#but i guess they only saw the shape of the hole where the compliments they wanted should've gone

[seedsofwinter]

It's actually really difficult to be both a good writer and a good storyteller. (I am not one of those people who is both *at all*.) Sure, you can work on your writing skills, and you can learn more about storytelling craft. But damn, I just don't understand people who naturally have endless stories to tell, understand narrative promise, play with expectations in a fun and satisfying way, leave you wanting more AND whose prose and characterization feel effortless. Kudos, a million kudos.

[oceantornadoo]

Please I just want to say I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK HUHBBDEUBYUVTYVTUOVY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you could come up with anything more on the Simon Riley Cut-bulk-the-bird-said-she-liked-me-big-thing I will be your servant forever.

tw: body talk (i headcanon simon as someone who shops in the big & tall section so i think his clothes would fit the body type of every reader. if you shop in that same section, imagine him being MORE bigger and taller than you. mans is 6'4 fr)

--

(a few months later)

simon almost ripped the shirt off his body in frustration. another piece of clothing he had outgrown. he added it to the pile of clothes that he couldn't fit anymore. sleeves too tight, stomach pushing out the fabric. sure he was still in shape, could pass the military physical easily, but he was no longer the lean 22-year-old he once was, muscles now hidden under layers of fat. and he hated it.

there was a knock at the door. still a little pissed off, he opened it with more force than necessary, grunting out "what." before even looking down at who knocked. just his luck, it was you, the one person he tried to be nice to.

"what's got you so grumpy?" you smiled up at him, all sugar and spice. you loved simon's growls, the social anxiety and introvertedness he hid under irritation. it just made it more valuable whenever he laughed at one of your god-awful puns or let you lay on his shoulder. you were never second-guessing if he liked you, mostly because he hated everyone else.

"sorry, didn't see it was you. was jus' doing some spring cleaning." you laughed, a tinkling sound that transitioned into a snort. he loved your insane laughter, a real sound of joy. you peered around his large torso and spotted the pile of clothes on his bed. "doing a big donation, simon?" it was always a punch to the gut to hear his name come out of your mouth, laced with sarcasm and cheek. ever since he told you you could say it in private with him a month ago, you never stopped using it. "somethin' like that. clothes piss me off." you huffed, pushing past him easily as he let you into his room. he closed the door behind you, trying to calm his heart rate as he saw you, here, in his space. like you were his too.

"what did the poor fabric do to you?" you sorted through the clothes, seeing nothing wrong with most. they were all practical clothes, but none had noticeable holes or wear. he mumbled something, too low for you to catch it. "say that again?" he scratched his head and looked away, almost meek. "said they don't fit." ah, there was the problem. "that's okay. just means your muscles are too big." you tried to give a compliment, anything to get rid of the storms in his eyes. "nah. 've gotten fat." you put the shirt you were holding down with force, stomping over to where he had now taken a seat at his spare chair. you stepped between his legs, which opened easily for you. you gripped his chin and turned it towards you, forcing eye contact. "so what? just means you've been eating well, simon. nothing wrong with that."

he looked down, almost reminding you of a kicked puppy. "you don't care?" you weren't dating, yet, but you two had some sort of a romantic understanding. some acknowledgement of there being more, an exclusive connection between you two. "no. i like my men big. like when you can throw me around." he barked out a laugh, surprised at your admission. you smiled back, satisfied. getting a laugh out of him was 80% of the battle. "and these clothes are still good for something." his eyes were on you again, questioning.

you walked back to the bed, full of confidence now. turning to face him, you slowly grabbed the hem of your shirt, untucking it from your tactical pants. he wasn't wearing his mask, so you could see his mouth physically drop at the action. ever so slowly, you raised your arms, bringing your shirt with you. you tossed the shirt aside, standing in front of him with only your bra and pants on. his eyes were dark with desire and he made a move to stand up, but you commanded him with a sharp "sit." like a loyal guard dog, he lowered himself back into his chair, complete captivated.

turning back to the bed, you grabbed one of his outgrown sweatshirts and put it on. it smelled like him, that masculine scent tinged with the cologne he sometimes wore. "see?" you gestured to the sweatshirt, too big on you. "you just gave me a bunch of free clothes." he grunted, still fixated on the sweatshirt. his lack of response made you nervous. "what?" you asked. "give us a spin." you spun slowly, trying not to smile too much. god, the things this man does to you.

"'like seeing my last name on you."

now whose jaw was dropping?

[buttterknifeee]

Sisters- Teen Titans x Aquagirl Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You don't get along well with your own siblings, but maybe you'll get along well with Starfire's super-cool, definitely-not-evil sister!

Pairings: Platonic! Starfire x reader

Word Count: 3575

A/N: Hey guys!!! Sorry for posting this so late I just did this one a lot slower lol. Unfortunately, school's starting soon so I won't be able to write as often. I'm still working on 2 fics so keep that in mind if you want to request!

Carnivals were the best invention in the world, you decided. The rides, the food, the games, and you only get to enjoy it a few times a year. So when the carnival does come to visit, you always make sure to enjoy it as much as you can.

“Don’t you just lovvvveee carnivals?” You say, walking next to Raven.

“Well, Beast Boy and Cyborg have been trying to win an animal from a single game for the past hour and Robin and Starfire are probably making out on the ferris wheel, so not as much as you.” she says, staring straight ahead. The others had paired up and set off when you first entered the carnival, so that left you with Raven. And as much as you love Raven, you love her in a “meditating/book club” way, not a “fun adventure” way. You approached the two boys as they finally won their carnival game prize.

“Told you we’d win a prize” Beast Boy grinned at Raven, holding a toy chicken to her face.

“A giant chicken. I must be the luckiest girl in the world.” She said sarcastically.

Suddenly, Robin jumped in front of the four of you.

“Titans! Trouble!” He yelled, standing up from a crouching position.

“Where’s Starfire?” Cyborg asked.

“That's the trouble,” Robin said, then promptly took off. The four of you followed him close behind. He brings the four of you to a dock, where you finally see the “trouble” Robin was talking about. Starfire was being chased by a flying, squid-like space robot with tentacles and everything. She flies past the five of you, the flying machine doing the same.

“Who’s her new best friend?” Beast Boy asks, staring at the scene before you.

“Don’t know, but I can’t wait to meet him,” Robin said.

Starfire hid behind you as the flying machine continued to follow her. Beast Boy turned into an alligator and tried to attack the robotic squid, but missed. You tried to hit it with jets of water, but it bounced off of its exterior. Raven threw a hot dog cart at the machine with her telekinesis, but it simply tore straight through the cart. Cyborg grabbed onto the tentacles and strained as the machine tried to get away.

“Don't know what you did to make this thing mad, Star, but it couldn't hurt to apologize!” Cyborg yelled, trying to keep a grip on the tentacles.

“I am… sorry?” Starfire apologizes confusingly, taking shelter behind a grimacing Robin.

Cyborg loses grip on the mysterious space squid as Robin jumps forward. He hits the machine hard with his staff and it falls into the water. A moment of silence falls onto the six of you.

“So, did we just win?” Beast Boy asked.

His answer came in the form of the machine crashing through the floor and back into the sky. Robin jumps onto it.

“Don’t see an OFF switch,” He yells. “Guess I’ll have to make one!” He punches into the side of the machine. The machine goes haywire, and Robin jumps off of it before it flies crazily into the sky and blows up. Since there were already fireworks, any regular citizens could have easily mistaken it for one of the big finals. You turned your attention to Starfire.

“Starfire, are you alright?” you ask. She nodded with a small smile.

“Whatever that thing was, it can’t hurt you now.” Robin said, now next to her again.

Starfire frowned. “But… why did it wish to hurt me at all?”

.

You found yourself back in the tower after such an eventful night. Despite being attacked by some alien machine, Starfire seemed to be in a cheery mood.

“I shall thank you for my rescue by reciting the Poem of Gratitude, all six thousand verses.” She said, a giant smile on her face. You and the others stopped dead in your tracks, not excited for how the rest of the night will seem to go.

“I think ‘thank you’ cuts it,” You say.

Suddenly, you hear a voice. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.” The voice belonged to a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Starfire. She had long, black hair, and wore a black outfit similar to Starfire, except hers had more metal components. The mystery girl continued.

“When we were little, I was always rescuing Starfire.”

“Sister!” Starfire squealed, running to hug her. Starfire’s sister smiled, holding up a necklace with a large green gem as the pendant.

“A Centauri Moon Diamond?? Where did you get-”

“On the Centauri Moons of course.” the sister said, fastening the necklace around Starfire’s neck. “Oh look, it matches your eyes.” Starfire smiled brightly. You remember that you’ve been staring at the two of them interacting when she turns to the five of you.

“I wish to introduce my big sister,” Starfire said. Her sister stepped in front of her.

“Blackfire,” she said. “ And since Star told me all about the Titans in her transmissions, let me guess.” She walks over to Cyborg.

“Cyborg,” She guessed correctly.

“Pleased to meet you little lady,” Cyborg says, holding out his hand. She takes it and you hear the sound of metal bending. Cyborg holds up his hand, now bent out of shape.

“Little lady, big handshake. Well alright!” he says with a smile. Blackfire moves on.

“Raven. I like that gemstone on your Ajna chakra,” Blackfire says.

“You know about chakras?” Raven asked, mildly impressed.

“I got way into meditation on Altara Prime.” She says casually. She then turned to you.

“Aquagirl. Oh my god your outfit is soooo cute! And your hair, how do you get it so healthy?” She said, clasping your hands. Her voice was nothing like Starfire’s; it was much smoother, and more confident, not to mention she had the American accent down.

“Mix of coconut oil, avocado, and a cabinet full of hair ointments” you wink.

“You’ll have to give me tips.” she winked back.

She continued her introductions, finally getting to Robin. She was all over him, complimenting his outfit, calling his mask ‘mysterious’, etc. You saw Starfire steaming with anger, even if she didn’t show it. She intercepted them as Blackfire got close to his face.

“So beloved sister, what brings you to Earth?” Starfire asks, an annoyed grin spread across her face.

“I was in the quadrant. Thought I'd see if Earthlings like to party.” She said, hopping onto the couch. “Besides, I needed a rest. Nearly got sucked into a black hole on the way here.” Immediately, the three boys rushed over to her, the three of you girls still behind them. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the three teens crowding around Blackfire.

“Black hole?”

“No way!”

“Cool”

You could feel Blackfire’s smirk as she began her story.

“Okay. I’m cruising through Draconis Nebula and-”

Starfire interrupted. “Sister! That nebula is full of black holes! You know travel there is forbidden.” The four teens on the couch stared at her.

“Most fun things in life are. Now be a sweetie and bring me one of those sodas I've heard so much about.” Blackfire waved at her and turned back to the boys. You heard her continue the story, but all you could focus on was Starfire grumbling towards the fridge. You look at Raven; your way of saying Ill go after her.

You find Starfire taking a soda can out of the fridge, talking to herself.

“Starfire?” you ask. She flinches at your approach, almost dropping the soda in her hand.

“Oh! Aquagirl. You have caught me off guard, my apologies,” she rubs her neck, blushing.

“You alright? You seemed a little worked up back there,” you say as the teen straightened herself up.

“Oh it's nothing, it's just that…” she sighed, closing the refrigerator. “My sister has always acted in such a way that can cause me to feel… annoyed.”

“Oh well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m always here.” She hugs you, still holding the can of soda.

“Thank you my friend”

.

The next day, You were sitting in your room. Starfire barged in while you were rubbing the water from your head with your towel.

“Oh hey Starfire! What's up?” you smile, putting the towel onto your bed.

“Aquagirl! Have you seen Blackfire?” she asked. You noticed that she seemed distressed, but decided to answer her question first.

“Oh! We just went surfing! She crushed those waves!” You say, reminiscing. She was surprisingly good at surfing, especially since she told you it was her first time. Starfire frowned.

“Oh. alright.” you frowned back at her answer.

“Well, I think she might be with Robin right now. Is everything alright?” you ask. Her face turns bright red at the mention of Robin’s name.

“N- I mean, yes! Everything is alright. I must go.” She slammed the door before you could say anything. You wanted to go after her, but you figured since she left so quickly, she's probably not in the mood to talk. You went about your day, still a little worried about her.

.

Nighttime fell, and you sat on the couch with the other Titans, relaxing after an uneventful day. Starfire skipped in holding popcorn, candy, and a bunch of CDs.

“Friends! I invite you to join me in the togetherness of a stay-home movie night. I bring you popcorn and non-cotton candies. Tell me, what sort of movie shall we view?”

“Action,” said Robin.

“Romance!” you cheered.

“Comedy.” spat Beast Boy.

“Sci-fi” Cyborg offered.

“Horror.” Raven said flatly. Starfire drops her goodies.

“Perhaps a double feature?” she asked.

“Forget the flicks, kids.” You looked up to see Blackfire, now dressed in Starfire’s clothes. “We’re going out!”

“We are? Where did you- How did you-” Starfire stuttered, obviously confused by her sister’s new look.

“Heard about a party downtown,” Blackfire continued, ignoring her sister. “Cool crowd, hot music”

“Sound’s nice!” you say.

“Yeah!” Beast Boy agrees.

“I’m in!” Cyborg says.

“Why not?” Robin smiles. Raven kept looking at her book.

“And it's in an abandoned warehouse,” Blackfire adds. Raven looked up from her book, her way of saying that she's in. You all began to leave. You noticed Starfire still standing where she was, looking a bit sadder.

“Starfire? you coming?” you asked, walking by her.

“Oh um, I guess I will go,” she said, hanging her head a bit. You looked at her but she didn’t meet your eyes. Maybe she’s tired, you thought, walking to catch up with the other titans.

.

You entered the party, taking in the colorful lights and dancing teens. You followed Blackfire onto the dance floor, who seemed to already be dancing.

“Step aside Earthlings, the queen of the galaxy has arrived!” she cheered, swaying her hips with the other teens. She looks at the rest of you, a smirk on her face.

“Now don't tell me you big tough superheroes are afraid of a little dancing.” she says, beckoning you to do so. The boys joined in, and you noticed that Raven left the dance floor with a boy. The only people who weren’t dancing were you and Starfire. Starfire looked scared, she was clutching her new necklace, and you swore that she said something about shovels. You came up to her and took her hand.

“Let’s go Starfire, I think you need some air.” you say, leading her to the stairwell.

You sat next to her on the roof, both awkwardly silent.

“So, what's wrong?” you finally say.

“It’s my sister again,” she sighs. “It feels as though she has stolen you all from me, and I don’t know how to keep that from happening.”

“Hey. we’ll always be your friends, just as you’ll be ours. And she didn’t steal us from you, we just thought she was cool and all-” you were cut off by a yell from the part below.

“YO A.G.!!! YOU GOTTA COME DOWN HERE!!!” Cyborg yelled. You looked at the direction of the sound and then back at Starfire, who was staring at the ground.

“Oh- uh they probably need me, I’ll be right back,” You say, rubbing her arm. “HANG ON I'LL BE THERE IN A SEC!”

You race down to the dance floor and see Cyborg dancing.

“YO THEY’RE TOTALLY PLAYING YOUR SONG!” he yelled. Ugh I should get back to Starfire but they are totally playing my song, you thought. You look at Cyborg again, who was waving at you to join him. You see Robin next to you and pull him aside.

“Hey Aquagirl! Where’s Starfire?” He asked. You cross your arms.

“She’s upstairs on the roof. Listen, she’s super down in the dumps right now, I think you should talk to her.” You say. He nods and leaves, heading towards the stairs. You sigh as you go back to join your other friends. You bump into Blackfire, who was now sporting a neon pink wig.

“Um, nice wig,” you say.

“Thanks hot stuff. Where’s Robin? I saw you with him earlier.” She asked, still dancing. You weren’t sure if it was the best idea to tell her.

“He’s uhhhhhhh….” you try to stall.

“... with Starfire.” she finishes. You turn to see her staring through the glass roof, where you could see Robin and Starfire sitting together. She turns to the rest of you.

“One sec guys!” She winks. Less than a minute goes by and she reappears with Robin. You make eye contact; he seemed annoyed by being back here.

“We HAVE to dance to this song!” she says, starting to dance again next to Robin. He steps away from her.

“Sorry, but I’m going to check on Starfire again.” Robin says, heading to the stairwell again. Blackfire follows him, trying to get him to return, leaving you with Cyborg and Beast Boy. They continue to dance and you roll your eyes.

Suddenly, you notice Starfire fighting something. You squint at her location, then realize that what she's attacking is one of the robots from yesterday. You look at the two boys who’ve quite literally been dancing the whole time.

“Cyborg! Beast Boy! Starfire’s in trouble!” You yell, already running towards the exit. Suddenly, another of those robots appears out of nowhere.

“What the- AHHHHH!!!!” you scream as the robot latches onto you and drags you away. The two boys try to follow you but a third robot attacks them, leaving you to still be stuck in the clutches of the space robot. You see Raven hanging out with the boy from earlier (they’d be a cute couple huh) and she spots you. She flies after you, flinging two robots towards the machine as you finally break free. Starfire crashes into the room through the ceiling and lands in the crates, Cyborg and Beast Boy still taking on the other robot.

All three of the robots start chasing Starfire, and she flies around the room trying to lose them. Cyborg knocks into them and lays some punches, you trying to short circuit them by spraying them with water. One of the robots hits Cyborg, sending him flying into a wall. Another one sends Starfire flying into a different wall, and she lands in a dumpster. You run to the hole in the wall to find the aliens trying to bring the whole dumpster into the air. You were about to try to strike them when you saw a flash- the flash of a birdarang. It cuts into the arms of the robot and drops the container. Robin joins the rest of you.

“Titans Go!” Robin yells, but Blackfire flies out in front of you. In a matter of seconds she demolished all three robots. You all surrounded her as she stood victoriously.

“Aw yeah! Good times!”

“Nice shot, Tex!”

“Very nice.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“How did you know where to hit them?” Robin asked.

“Lucky guess,” Blackfire shrugged. Cyborg stepped forward.

“We could use luck like that,” he said. “Maybe you oughta join the team.”

“Me? A teen titan?” Blackfire asked, obviously flattered. You couldn’t help but notice Starfire looking away, a defeated look on her face. I should talk to her again, you decided.

.

You and Robin found Starfire standing on the roof of the Titans Tower. You found out that you both had the idea of finishing up your conversations, but it seemed that Starfire had different plans. You reach her as she floats into the air.

“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” Robin asked, causing her to whip around to face the two of you.

“A little rude if you ask me,” you tried to joke, but she didn’t laugh. Her head hanging, she slowly landed back on the roof, taking off the backpack she was wearing.

“Aquagirl, Robin, I- '' She began, but was cut off by the sound of a spaceship coming towards you. One of the aliens on board unleashes its arm, which is a tentacle much like one of the robot’s, and slashes you and Robin, sending you both to the ground. It then wraps around Starfire, pulling her into the ship.

Robin runs towards the screaming Starfire and jumps from the roof and towards the ship. You watch in horror as he misses, and begins the fall towards the ground. The ship continues its ascent into the air.

“ROBIN!” you scream, running towards the edge of the Tower’s roof. You can do this, you can do this, you can-

You focused hard, and raised your arms above you. A geyser of water shoots up from the shore and catches Robin. You raised the geyser up towards the hull of the spaceship, allowing the Boy Wonder to grab onto the bottom and make his way up. Seeing that he made it safely on board, you dropped the geyser of water.

You fell to your knees, breathing heavily. You haven’t made such a strong geyser in, well, never! Your vision was blurring as Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Raven all rushed onto the roof.

“Aquagirl! What happened?” Cyborg asked, helping you up.

“Starfire… Spaceship… Robin… I helped…” you huffed, pointing towards the spaceship, which was now far away from the tower.

“We gotta catch up to them. But how?” Beast Boy said, staring at the silhouette in the distance.

“Follow my lead.” Raven said, grabbing on to Beast Boy and Cyborg, who was holding into you. You watched as she made a dark portal in front of you. She pulled the three of you through it and you found yourself in the outskirts of the city, next to mountains and a river. You see Starfire and Robin up ahead, in front of a now toppled over spaceship.

“Starfire! Robin!” Beast Boy yelled as you caught up to them.

“Are you alright?” Cyborg asked. Suddenly, you see two aliens emerge from the shipwreck.

“Titans! Get ready!” he said, assuming a fighting stance, which you follow. You wait tensely as the aliens approach you.

“In the name of the Grand Centauri Empire, you are all under arrest.” one of the aliens says, showing off a professional looking police badge. You stare at it. If they're police, why are they arresting us? And why are we fighting them?

“Uh… you can’t be the good guys. We’re the good guys.” Beast Boy says, just as confused as you are.

“And we are the Centauri Police,” the second alien repeats.

“The Tamaranean girl is a liar and a thief.” the first police alien says, pointing at Starfire. “She's committed high crimes throughout the entire Centauri system.”

“I have never even been to the Centauri moons!” Starfire pleaded.

Suddenly everything clicked. The necklace, the events at the carnival, the events at the party. All evidence seemed to have pointed to Starfire, but they actually pointed at another person.

“But I know someone who has.” you and Robin say at the same time. You look at each other, obviously aware of who the other was thinking.

Blackfire.

.

Robin took off Starfire’s necklace for her and threw it aside. He faced the police aliens.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong girl. Where’s Blackfire?” Robin says. Before any of the other Titans could answer, you saw a figure flying through the sky.

“That Bitch!” you yelled, watching Blackfire make an escape.

“Don’t worry Star, she won't get away with this,” Robin says to Starfire, but her eyes are already glowing.

“No she will not!” she yells, and shoots off into the sky. You couldn’t see much, but there were flashes of bright green and purple in the sky. The Centauri police calmly rebalanced their ship and restarted it, its engine humming to life.

You then watched as they proceeded to fly up into the sky and capture Blackfire, similar to how they initially captured Starfire, and fly off into the night. You stared dumbfounded.

"What just happened?"

.

The next morning, you stood in front of the kitchen, making pancakes with Cyborg.

“Crazy what happened last night, huh?” you yawned, watching the pancakes sizzle on the stove.

“No kidding,” he said. “She would’ve made a great addition to the team, except for the intergalactic-criminal part.” You laughed, flipping the rest of the pancakes.

You climbed up to the roof, finding Robin and Starfire sitting together. God they’re probably being cheesy together you thought. You cleared your throat, the two of them jumping at your presence.

“Hey you two,” you winked. “Breakfast is ready!!!”

[oneyeartoparty]

The brothers react to discovering they’re MC’s biggest fear

Wow the last few weeks have been hectic for me. Been feeling incredibly alone and don’t have anyone to talk to and found out I need surgery which will happen sometime soon. I’m glad to have gotten to motivation to get this out for you guys. I’ve a request coming next so keep an eye out. This one is based on how MC has been through so much and what if this affected MC greater than they realized? I hope you all enjoy this =)

WARNING: This react has spoilers for all of Obey Me up to Chapter 60

This story contains: Blood, mentions of death/murder, traumatic experiences.

Lucifer

Lucifer is cautious as he enters the room the bogeyman is hiding in with MC in tow.  Few things scare him, but what does are things he’d rather MC not know about.

Still, above all else he wants MC to be safe. If that means they find out something about him he’d rather them not know about, then so be it. Their safety and happiness are his priority.

As the bogeyman before them begins to warp its shape, he puts up his guard. With their combined power, Lucifer is sure the bogeyman, no matter which form it takes will be a triviality to deal with.

MC is too consumed by fear to see the shock and guilt consume Lucifer as, surprisingly, the bogeyman turns into him.

“Did you think you wouldn’t face consequences for your actions, MC? You’ve broken so many rules, interfered so much, that it's time you paid for your insolence with your pathetic human life!”

The real Lucifer was quick to banish his fake as it pounced on them. With it gone, he focused his full attention on MC, who was completely still, gazing at where the bogeyman once was.

He knelt, taking their hands in his own, rubbing them gently to slowly calm MC down. He told them he was sorry he’d scared them so badly. He would do whatever it took to fix his horrible mistake.

With a kiss to the back of their hand, he promised for as long as MC loved him, he would never do something to make them so scared again.

Mammon

Mammon was already terrified at the thought of facing the bogeyman again. Even a fake Lucifer was terrifying, and it was something he didn’t ever want to see again.

Still, with some gentle coaxing from MC, he followed them to face down the bogeyman. Once they enter the room, he moves behind MC to hide, while simultaneously bragging about how unafraid he is.

A rumbling begins that causes Mammon to jump. He sinks behind MC, awaiting the appearance of Lucifer, but to his surprise, nothing happens.

At first, Mammon is ecstatic! They’d easily banished the bogeyman without a scratch or scare. He is soon brought back to reality when he hears MC’s panicked cries.

“Mammon? Mammon can you hear me? Please don’t leave me again. Lucifer said you’d look after me and I’m confused and scared. Please come back, I won’t be annoying anymore. Please.”

At that moment Mammon comes to the horrible realisation that his abandonment of MC during their first few weeks in the Devildom when he saw them as nothing more than a burden had taken its toll.

He hugs them desperately, telling MC over and over that he is here and that if they wish it, he will never leave their side again. He tells MC that he’s sorry and that he loves them.

From then on, Mammon sticks to MC like glue. No matter where they go, he’ll follow unless they say otherwise. He promises to always be there to make sure they know they’re adored and never, ever alone.

Leviathan

It takes a lot of convincing to get Levi to accompany MC to confront the bogeyman, but he decides to go because the thought of MC going alone is something far worse than a fake, albeit horrifying copy of Lucifer.

Instead of Lucifer, however, what appears is another version of him in his demonic form. It looks furious, its tail flicking back and forth, knocking over lamps, leaving holes in the wall and smashing the window.

Levi though it would target him. After all MC had protection right? But it became clear and the creature turned to MC, its rage only increasing as it began to shout at the scared human.

“YOU CHEATED MC! I’M THE BIGGEST TSL FAN, NO ONE CAN BEAT ME IN A TSL QUIZ WITHOUT CHEATING!”

His copy keeping screaming at MC, looking ready to pounce at any moment. The real Levi for his part wanted to scuttle out of the room and forget what had happened. But he was spurred on by his love and need to protect MC.

Using his considerable power, he banished the bogeyman, the false version of him fading with a shrill shriek, leaving only MC cowering in fear.

Levi rushed to them, hugging them, peppering them with kisses (something that will later bring a blush to his face) and promising them he’ll never do anything to make them that scared again.

He keeps his word and is also careful to manage his temper when it comes to his passions while MC is around. He also does his best to work with them to help them overcome their fear.

Satan

Satan isn’t fearful of the bogeyman as he entered the room with MC. He wants the creature gone, especially after it scared his brothers so badly. Upsetting his brothers like that is not something he will let go of so easily.

He wonders what the creature will become when they encounter it. He doesn’t have any fears, at least any he will admit to himself, and MC has the blessing of Luke. Would it even be able to do anything against them at all?

As the door closed behind them the creature begins to morph. Satan decides to take this moment to banish it, wanting to be rid of it before it caused them problems. He pauses though when what appears before him is none other than himself in demon form.

“How DARE you compare me to Lucifer MC! How foolish I was to expect anything more from a sniveling, weak human. Now you’ll pay fo-.”

Before the copy has a chance to do anything more, Satan acts, banishing the creature from sight to some distant unknown realm.

The threat gone, he turned his attention to MC. They were still as stone, still scared of the image of him. Guilt floods him, and he rushes to MC, profusely apologising and begging them to forgive him. He has done so much damage to his love that he can’t forgive himself until MC is happy again.

Being the Avatar of Wrath, he will always have an angry side, but he does his best to calm down and refrain from getting out of control while MC is around. He also becomes far more affectionate, often snuggling with them as he reads them stories or watching cat documentaries.

Asmodeus

Asmo is worried about how ugly the bogeyman will make him. He knows that his greatest fear is being ugly, and it brings him genuine fear thinking of all the horrible, ugly versions of him the bogeyman could conjure.

The form the creature creates is of him, but he’s his normal, beautiful and dazzling self. He thinks it’s a trick for a moment, and he waits for the form to shift. Instead, it speaks, looking directly at MC.

“Why would I love someone like you? I’m perfection incarnate. You’re my plaything, someone I’ll discard like the rest. Don’t think my affectionate words are anything more than sweet nothings.”

Asmo turned to MC, who was now backed against the wall, their hand covering their face, but doing nothing to hide their sobs.

Asmo rarely becomes as enraged as he did at that moment. He isn’t one to not get angry, but true rage from his is rare. With all the fury and power he can muster he summons a portal and forces the bogeyman through, sending it somewhere it will never return from.

With the bogeyman gone, he turns his attention to MC. He approaches them slowly, moving beside them. He isn’t sure how to proceed. His heart is aching at seeing MC so upset and he wants them to smile that beautiful smile again.

He starts to name each and every part of MC and why he loves it so much. From their nose to their toes, he doesn’t stop until MC is smiling again.

From then on he showers them with affection and love. Every morning starts with a compliment and a loving kiss, and he always makes sure MC knows he couldn’t live without them.

Beelzebub

Beel enters the room first, wanting to shield MC from anything the bogeyman might decide to do. He’ll gladly endure whichever one of his fears the creatures summons if it means MC stays safe.

Despite his effort, as the bogeyman warps its form, what appears is him in his demon form. This form is angry, its stomach loudly growling also drowning out the angry words being spoken by the creature.

“WHY DID YOU EAT MY PUDDING, MC? THAT WAS MY PUDDING AND YOU’VE GONE AND EATEN IT. NOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSE TO EAT?!?”

As the creature screamed and shouted the sounds of shattering plates and crumbling brick echoed around, though nothing in the room was touched.

MC was terrified, backing away until their back touched the wall, too overtaken with fear to move any further.

Not wanting MC to suffer any longer Beel focused on banishing the creature. Focusing his power, the creating began losing shape. It fought him, but eventually, it faded from sight, banished back to where it had come from.

After the bogeyman is defeated, Beel approached MC. They’ve calmed down now the bogeyman is gone, but it has affected them. He apologises for allowing his hunger to overtake him so much that it caused them to fear him so much.

He gently hugs them, promising he’ll do whatever he can to help them overcome their fear and to never let his hunger overtake him so badly again, two promises he seals with a kiss.

Belphegor

Deep down Belphie knows what he’ll see if the bogeyman targets him and shows him his greatest fear. But he doesn’t want to admit it. The reality of admitting it is too much for him.

He accompanies MC regardless. He knows that together they can overcome whatever is waiting for them.

But Belphie didn’t fully realise exactly what the bogeyman would become. It began to take shape the moment the door shut behind them, forming into him in his demon form, fresh blood dripping from his hands and tail and splattered all over his clothing.

“Guess you are just a stupid human, huh? Falling for my silly trick you deserve to suffer and die like this.”

MC is petrified, begging him to not hurt them. It was MC’s fear that inadvertently spurred on their magic, banishing the creature without them realising.

With the bogeyman gone, Belphie could only stare at MC. He didn’t realise how much what he had done hurt them, and now that he did, he feared no matter what he did he would only make it worse.

Everyone waiting outside bursts through the door after hearing MC’s cries, and goes over to comfort them. Belphie decides to leave and return to the mansion and begins avoiding MC, thinking it better he stayed away.

It takes MC approaching him with Beel for him to talk with him, rather than leave the room. They talk and both agree to work together and heal so they can move forward, starting their journey with a hug and a kiss.

[incoherentbabblings]

87 + 95 timsteph fluff please

FLUFF.

Thank you for being so patient whilst I worked on this one!

Birthday Ask Game

87. “You’re so adorable.” + 95. “Come cuddle.”

Tim was wrapped up on the sofa, nothing more than a bleary face peering out from a thick duvet. Stephanie moved around him, herself wearing a woollen hat, gloves, scarf, and one of Tim’s thick sweatshirts. The heating was broken, and it wouldn’t be until the evening that an engineer could get the apartment to fix what had snapped. Tim had tried, muttering that he was more than capable, only to realise he did not have the parts necessary to do the job. Stephanie had snorted, and asked that they let the professional do their job.

Tim was glaring at the six empty mugs on the coffee table. He couldn’t justify making a fourth hot drink, his insides and bladder could not take it.

His girlfriend collapsed in the armchair nearby, throwing balls of wool to the floor, and, to Tim’s surprise, began to knit.

He watched her make a slipknot, cast on thread, then set to work. She did so in the quiet, only the humming of the refrigerator behind them filling the silence. She had a small smile on her face as she worked, and occasionally looked over to a notepad on the table, scribbled notes with maths and measurements and fractions laid out. Her fingers moved quickly, though every now and then she sighed, and methodically unpicked what must have been about half an hour’s worth of work. Tim tried to focus on his own book but found watching her much more relaxing.

“What are you making?” he asked. He deliberately kept his voice low, unwilling to disrupt the feeling of peace. Her smile widened, pearly teeth showing.

“Guess.”

He peered at the shape she had created thus far. A circle, like a hole for a neck. The wool she was using was grey, but there was also some red and white in there too.

“Sweater?” he guessed. She made an affirmative noise and held it up so he could better see. Tim sighed. “You’re so clever.”

She giggled. “And you’re a flirt.”

“Not flattery, believe me. I couldn’t do that.”

She rolled her eyes, as if Tim were the golden standard for cleverness. “You could if you were taught,” she argued back. “I taught myself. So could you. I could show you, if you wanted sometime too.”

Tim grumbled, saddened that she didn’t take the compliment. He began to retreat further into his cocoon of warmth, when Stephanie spoke again, her smile having turned into a playful smirk. “There’s a curse you know. On couples who knit sweaters.”

“What? Seriously?”

Stephanie’s smirk became impossibly mischievous. “Yahuh. The sweater curse. Anyone who makes a sweater for their significant other will have their relationship end after it has been completed and received. Sometimes even before.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Who’s the sweater for, Steph?”

“Who do you think dumbo?” she had the nerve to laugh.

An awkward pause, then, “Is this a roundabout way of telling me you want to break up?”

Violet eyes rolled so dramatically Tim could have sworn Stephanie saw the back of her own skull. “That depends on you, really.”

“Me?” he asked, giddy in an anxious and confused sort of way.

“There’s no such thing as a curse,” she explained, endlessly looping and knitting and knotting. “The couples break up because the recipient doesn’t understand how many hours goes into something like this, and is they aren’t suitably grateful. They never asked for it in the first place; maybe the design is really cringe; it’s putting unnecessary pressure on the recipient to be grateful for a gift they never wanted. Maybe the knitter is trying to desperately save a failing relationship through a big act of love. The sweater… the knitting… it’s just the final straw. A lack of communication and a whole lot of wasted yarn.”

Tim stared at Stephanie’s expression, trying to see if anything of what she spoke of was valid within their own relationship. He’d thought things were going well, broken boiler aside. She was only smiling, cheeks red from the cold and a blush that made her look very inviting.

“So why…” he enquired.

“Because curses aren’t real,” she stated simply. “And I think I know what you like. And this winter is gonna be a rough one. And you can never have too many sweaters. And you’ve liked everything else I’ve made you before. Your wallet?”

“Still impressed by your leather craftsmanship there.”

She nodded approvingly. “And I made you one of you shirts for work.”

“Mmhmm.”

There was a whole lot of bragging power in that. A smug slightly waspish sort of sentiment that was used against the most judgemental of work colleagues.

My girlfriend made me this shirt. What has your partner done for you recently? Brought home some flowers? Oh, how quaint.

“So, this is just something else I want to do for you. Makes me feel productive, if nothing else. See the pattern? Be sure you like it.”

She reached across for her notes – which Tim only then saw was a grid rather than lined paper – and flipped to the correct page, holding up in front of her face for Tim to inspect.

He immediately grinned. “I like it.”

Her tanned face appeared from behind the coloured pattern, craning her neck. “Yeah?”

“No curse here,” he stated.

She set the pages down. “No. Just a lot of love. And the need to keep my fingers warm.”

“You’re so adorable.”

Whistling a sharp sound, Stephanie returned to her work. “Well, that’s not patronising.”

“Come cuddle.”

The duvet wiggled invitingly, Tim’s smug face teasingly smiling at her. Narrowing her eyes, she continued to knit.

“No, no. You want to bring the curse down after all? Gotta keep working.”

“Wanna snuggle,” he muttered, clambering to his feet.

“No, Tim.” The white cloud moved over to where she was, and she squealed, laughing and squirming. “Tim!”

He practically fell on top of her, clambering in her lap and wrapping her up inside their bedsheets. It smelled like him and was very warm. They fumbled around for a bit, straddling and trying to get the pointy needles out from the cocoon and away from Tim’s stomach. He got what wanted though, Stephanie wrapped her arms around his middle, and pressed her face into his chest.

“You’re only getting away with this,” she complained, ignoring his smug face, “’cause you don’t know how our plumbing works. If our radiators were working you’d be getting nothing.”

He kissed the crown of her head over and over, nuzzling in tight.

“Sure, sure. Still, thank you. For cuddles and sweater both.”

He felt her cheeks warm, even through his thick hoodie.

“…You’re welcome.”

[songsformonkeys]

A Tiny Piece of the World Called Home - (Ezra x reader) chapter 2

pairing: Ezra x reader

summary: "Just like the first of the Terras, Icarus had precisely one moon. It was a desolate and barren place, gray rocks and dust as far as the eye could see. It was cold and unwelcoming and you felt a certain kinship to it. It wasn't a hostile place but it gave you nothing for free. For as long as you could remember, you had wanted to go there."

Reader and Ezra end up as partners on a mining job and are forced to live together in close proximity on a small moon base.

rating: explicit

warnings: smut

notes: trying to post all my ao3 stories to tumblr as well so this isn’t a new story and some of you might have already read it. Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 2

While Ezra had been watching you from the very start, it was only now that you had started to actually watch him back. And the more you watched, the more details you discovered about your roommate and work partner. For example, he walked around barefoot in the base a disconcerting amount of time, he was ambidextrous, liked to take long showers, that sometimes left you without any hot water but with a strong urge to strangle him, and he snored when he slept on his stomach. That last bit you knew partly because Ezra liked to take a nap after lunch and partly because the small base offered very little in the way of privacy. You shared every living space and the only way to get away from each other was to hide in the bathroom. In the beginning, Ezra must have thought you suffered from terrible gastrointestinal problems considering how much time you'd spent in there.

Ezra had definitely noticed you watching, you had been able to tell by the way his mouth always curved into a smug smile when he caught your eyes lingering, but he hadn't said anything about it and so neither had you. Instead, the two of you danced around each other while Ezra kept up his usual out loud stream of consciousness.

“Do you enjoy art? I went to a museum once. Sculptures, paintings, VRs, soundscapes, and what have you. They had everything! Of course, I'd never been before so I had no idea. Anyway, I had just landed after a job and was looking for a way to spend my well-earned freedom. So I went. And let me tell you, Birdie, I came out of that establishment a changed man. Now, you know I'm a man of emotion, I ain't ashamed to admit that, but I wept like a small child in there. Did you ever get so moved by something that it consumes your whole being? It's part of the reason why I travel. I have the privilege of seeing the most wondrous of places. The majority of them try their very damned hardest to kill me but you have got to admit that there's a certain poetic beauty in that too. Something so beautiful doing their very best to keep people from seeing it...”

You had been tinkering with the temperature-settings on the water-boiler and had only half paid attention to what Ezra was saying. Something about arts and planets and wanting to kill him. You looked up when he went quiet. That was usually your cue to say something or hum or nod before he would continue but this time Ezra was watching you intently with the faintest of smiles on his lips. The scrutiny made you a little nervous and you wished you had listened more closely.

“...yes?” you guessed, hoping that it would be an appropriate response to what he'd just said. Ezra's smile widened and clearly seizing the opportunity of having your attention, he went on.

“Where's your favorite place in the world, Birdie?”

“Here,” you stated simply and returned your focus to the water boiler. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Ezra turn and look out through the window of your small base. He wouldn't get it. No one else had.

“It is quite a marvelous place to behold, isn't it? The planes and the ridges over on that horizon. Never the same, no matter where you turn your eye to. And I know you prefer the sunsets and they are grand indeed but for me, it's the sunrises that does it. Those first rays of sunlight make the whole planet look like it's covered in silver. Takes my breath away every morning.”

You had stopped again to just look at Ezra as he described the planet he was watching outside the window. There was a fondness to his face when he spoke and it tugged on your heartstrings like it was part of you that he was complimenting. As the light from outside hit his face you found yourself thinking that Ezra was quite a wondrous sight to behold too. Rough and rugged, sure, but there was a certain beauty to him. In profile, the curve of his nose and the uneven spikes of his hair reminded you of those very same ridges he'd mentioned just a moment ago. Sharp and jagged. And yet other parts of him seemed way too soft, in comparison. His eyes which, once he'd gotten over the initial apprehension of you, held a sort of kindness that you had not often seen. The scars on his back and torso, that almost glowed like white lines when he undressed in the evening, and told a story of a vulnerability that his usual larger-than-life persona did its best to cover up.

Ezra caught you looking at him and you quickly looked away.

If you happened to wake up an hour earlier the next morning, it was pure coincidence. And when Ezra handed you a cup of coffee and opened his mouth to, no doubt, claim otherwise you glared at him so hard that he raised his hands in surrender before closing his mouth again and pouring himself some coffee.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Mining Ander was hard work. Much harder than what most people assumed. They only saw the finished product and figured that the delicate ore must be mined in an equally delicate manner. What they always failed to take into consideration was the several feet of stone and rock that you had to drill through to even get close to the Ander.

The big mechanic drill helped but it was still a grueling work, and you loved it. You loved feeling the strain in your muscles and the way they ached after a long day of work. The smell of sweat in an air-tight suit was something you definitely could have done without, although it did make the fresh air back at the base seem all the sweeter.

Ezra was a hard worker too, which was something you appreciated about him. He never shied away from the strenuous work, despite his occasional verbal complaints about the working conditions, and a couple of hours into the workday his grunts over the comms became a familiar background noise.

You took turns manning the drill while the other person carried the discarded bits of rock away from the hole in the ground and over to the pile which had been growing steadily larger over the duration of your shift.

Most days you paused for lunch but there were days when neither of you wanted to pause what you were doing and you ended up working way too late. Those were the very few days when Ezra stayed mostly silent before it was time for bed. In the beginning, you had cherished those moments like nobody's business but as time went on you found yourself almost missing his steady stream of words and comments.

This particular day was shaping up to be one of those days. Lunch was supposed to have happened some time ago but just as you had been about to call for a break, Ezra had cheered and declared that he'd discovered something purple and gleaming. So instead of stopping, you doubled your efforts the get the ore out.

The eagerness to get to the Ander as quickly as possible might have been what did it. Ezra pushed the drill a little too hard into the ground and suddenly there was a loud snap and you started.

It felt like someone had cracked a whip against your lower leg and you yelped. The pain was followed almost immediately by a whooshing sound and you met Ezra's widening eyes before both of you looked down at the tear in your suit, where oxygen was rapidly leaking out.

“Fuck!” you cursed loudly and quickly crouched to press your hands against the hole on the fabric. Ezra hurriedly jumped down from the driver's seat of the drill and ran over to you.

“We need to get you inside,” he stated, unnecessarily, and you had half a mind to make a rude remark about him stating the obvious. But you held your tongue. Maybe the quick decrease in oxygen was making you soft.

Keeping both of your hands wrapped around your calf, to keep the pressure on the wound and the integrity of your suit, made it impossible to walk. Ezra realized this too and wasted no time picking you up and carrying you. You felt grateful for the decreased gravity since it allowed him to sprint back to the airlock in no time, despite carrying a fully grown person in his arms. Your helmets bumped together in an uneven rhythm as he ran. You listened to his sharp breaths as he ran. They were faster than usual and you didn't think it was from the effort of carrying you. He was worried, you realized and you felt a bit touched that he cared this much. It was a bit excessive, of course. This wasn't the first injury you'd suffered during your shifts on the moon. There was plenty enough oxygen in the suit to get you back to the base and plenty enough blood in your body so that even if he'd sliced your whole leg of you were pretty sure you would have been fine. And since you very much felt your leg still being attached, there wasn't really any cause for alarm. You told Ezra as much but he didn't slow down and you could tell that he didn't quite trust your abilities to medically assess yourself.

“Let me remind you that it took you almost a full day to confess that you'd cut yourself on the kitchen knife when we first got here,” Ezra reminded you, and fine, that was a somewhat fair point but you hadn't known him back then and in your defense, you probably would have been fine even if he hadn't discovered the cut and forced you to let him redress it. You said nothing more. If he wanted to run himself tired for no reason then he was, by all means, welcome to do so.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Once inside, he set you down and instructed you to strip. For once in your life, you did what you were told without arguing and as Ezra rummaged around in one of the cupboards for a medkit, you shrugged out of your spacesuit. Your lower leg and foot felt wet and as you pulled it out of the leg of the suit you winced with pain. There was more blood than you had anticipated and you suddenly felt a little light-headed. You weren't afraid of blood but you weren't exposed to bloody injuries all that often either and you preferred your own body parts without them.

You wiggled out of your pants as well and flopped down on a chair. Ezra had struck gold with his search and returned to your side a second later. You gripped his shoulder as he knelt in front of you. A warning for him not to set his knee down in the small puddle of blood that had formed on the floor in front of you. Ezra not only missed the warning but also interpreted your gesture in a completely different manner.

“Don't you worry, Little Bird,” he assured you, as if you were the one who needed comforting, “We'll have you patched up and in tip-top condition again in no time.” He began wiping the skin around the wound clean. You winced a little in anticipation of the pain that never really came. Ezra's hands were surprisingly gentle as he cleaned away the blood. Ezra always surprised you with that. For some reason you always expected him to be rough, but he never was. Whether he was preparing food, reading one your books that he'd stolen or helping you into your suit every morning, he always did everything with a gentleness like he was handling something precious.

His brow was furrowed as he worked, though more from concentration than from worry, you noted and was pleased that he seemed to have reached the same conclusion that you had on the way to the base; that there was no immediate danger to your life. Once he'd cleaned the blood away it turned out that the cut wasn't very deep at all. It was about three inches long but shallow enough that Ezra could simply tape it shut before sealing it with a big anti-bacterial bandaid. He wiped your blood from his hands as best he could and let out a slow breath.

“You gave me quite a fright there, Little Bird,” he confessed and looked up from where he was still sitting at your feet. One of his arms was resting against your bare leg.

“I told you I would be fine,” you reminded him.

“Well, you down-play things and therefore are not to be trusted on matters like this.”

“I do not!” you protested. Ezra cleared his throat and held up his index finger to begin counting.

“It's just a short walk from here, Ezra. Took us three hours. I just nicked my finger. I cleaned that wound too and I'm fairly certain I saw bone. The coffee is a little bit hot. I couldn't taste anything for two days afterwards. I'm not that cold. Your lips matched the Ander... do you wish for me to continue? Because I've got more examples if you need 'em, Birdie”

You were watching Ezra with indignation and coughed out a laugh. You could hardly be held responsible for him taking every comment you made quite so literally.

“Says the man who exaggerates just about everything,” you countered

Ezra raised his eyebrows in confusion, as if this was the most preposterous accusation he'd ever heard. You were pretty sure he was faking it but you still took the bite.

“You beg me to shoot you every afternoon when I wake you up from your nap. You almost cry every time we strike Ander and how many times have you had the finest meal of your life since you got here?”

Ezra shook his head but you could see the small smile he was trying to hide.

“I am an appreciative man, Birdie. What can I say...” he said with a shrug and yes, he was definitely trying to rile you up.

“Well, appreciate this,” you said and jokingly flipped him off.

“I would appreciate every last part of you if you weren't so damn stubborn.”

You opened your mouth to toss another semi-insult back at him before the words fully registered, making you blink and stutter out a “W-what?” instead.

“I believe you heard me perfectly well,” Ezra answered, holding his ground. You felt your cheeks flush from the boldness of his comment. Even if he didn't realize how unprofessional that joke was, you certainly did and you were at a loss for words. Your usually so sharp tongue had, for once and with the worst timing, failed you. Every witty retort you began to come up with were instantly interrupted by mental images of Ezra making good on the comment he'd made. So what if you had entertained the thought previously? You and he were two people stuck in a small space which allowed little or no room for any sort of release in that department. The mind was bound to go a little crazy after a while. It had happened with previous work partners too. And it was understood by everyone that it wasn't anything to act or even comment upon. Understood by everyone except Ezra that was.

“You have been watching me. There are many things about you which are subtle, but that has not been one of them,” he said. There was something curious in his eyes as he watched you. He was searching your face for any indication whether he was reading the situation right or not. You weren't sure at all what expression you face did show but you were quite certain it wasn't disgust or revulsion, partly because those weren't the emotions you were actually feeling right now but more importantly because you were 100% certain that Ezra would have backed off if he'd detected any aversion on your part. And Ezra remained firmly where he was, on his knees in front of you, looking up at your face with a look on his face that you vaguely recognized.

You had gotten quite good at reading Ezra during your time on the base. This look was something you'd only seen in fleeting glances when he thought you weren't looking and when you both undressed for bed in the evenings. It was a look you hadn't quite been able to read. But now he was looking you dead in the eye and it was clear as day; Ezra wanted you. The realization made heat pool low in your stomach and if truth were to be told, you wanted Ezra too. Had for a while, now that you allowed yourself to admit it.

“I have,” you admitted and Ezra let out a breath you hadn't noticed he was holding.

“And did all that watching reward you with any new insights, Little Bird?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter and placing his other hand on your thigh. Your skin felt like it was buzzing where his hand was resting. His thumb began rubbing small circles against the skin of the inside of your thigh, just above the knee. It felt wonderful but was nowhere near enough and if Ezra was gonna give another monologue right now, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to handle it.

“For Kevva's sake, Ezra, can we save this conversation for later and just... do something!” You weren't necessarily proud of the shrill note of desperation to your voice but a dangerous smile spread across Ezra's face and his grip on you tightened. In a torturously slow movement, he pushed your legs further apart and you had to grip the edge of your seat hard to keep yourself from yanking him forward. He moved closer, hands running up the outside of your thighs, and he leaned down to place a kiss halfway up your thigh. Then another one, slightly higher. Then, because he was Ezra and of course he just couldn't help himself, he stopped and looked up at you.

“I must confess that thoughts of this have crossed my mind more than once,” he said, voice rough like sandpaper and utterly delicious. But there were so many better things for that mouth to be doing right now, other than talking.

“Ezra, please,” you groaned, more out of frustration than arousal, but from the smile Ezra gave you he definitely interpreted it as the latter. You didn't care because it had the intended effect regardless and a moment later Ezra's mouth was back on your skin, kissing its way higher and higher up on your thigh.

When his lips finally brushed, feather-light, over the fabric of your underwear it almost had you shooting off your chair. Luckily Ezra had anticipated this and his hands were now firmly placed on your hips, holding you in place. Your first instinct had been to close your legs, the jolt of sensation almost being too much, but Ezra's broad shoulders made that impossible and as he pressed his lips against the fabric a second time at was all you could do to hold back the needy whimpers that threatened to spill out with every breath. Ezra glanced up at you and you could feel the bastard smiling against you.

He pulled back and you were ready to make loud complaints about this lousy decision before you realized that he'd only pulled back in order to get you out of your underwear. You let him slide the piece of clothing down your legs then yelped a little in surprise as he promptly lifted both your legs and hooked them over his shoulders. Any comments on the manhandling died in your throat a moment later when his mouth found its way back to the prize and he licked a broad stripe across your folds. It had been quite some time since anyone had touched you in this way. Maybe that was it, or maybe it was just that Ezra really knew what he was doing, but as his mouth continued to explore, alternating between licking and kissing and sucking, your entire body felt like it was shaking. Your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the chair and your breaths escaped you in ragged huffs of air, mingled with the occasional whimpers that you had given up on holding back. The vocal feedback only seemed to encourage Ezra and he doubled his efforts.

It was too much and not enough at the same time. You felt like you would slap him if he stopped but, at the same time, you weren't sure you could handle this much longer. All your higher brain functioning had gone out the window and flown off into space. Your whole world had narrowed down to the sensations of your body and, even more specifically, the place between your legs where Ezra's clever tongue had all your nerve-endings going off like fireworks. And Ezra showed no signs of stopping until he'd made you come apart completely. Something which was rapidly approaching.

You tried warning him, managed to grip his forearm and push a little while stuttering out his name, but he only held you tighter and flicked his tongue over your clit in a way that turned the last vowel of his name into a cry of pleasure as you came. Ezra continued his ministrations and his tongue carried you through the pulsating waves of your orgasm.

When he finally pulled back and met your gaze, you were speechless. Ezra, true to form, was the first to comment.

“You truly are a vision like this, Birdie,” he said with awe in his voice and you gave him a weak laugh. Vision, you suspected, was hardly the most fitting description for you right now. Mess, more likely. You could feel how flushed your cheeks were and your lips must be bitten raw by this point. But Ezra was watching you with a mix of lust and wonder and as his gaze wandered lower he looked like he was ready for another round. You suspected that you might actually die this time if he did.

So, on legs that felt like jelly, you slid off the chair and onto his lap. The taped wound on your calf smarted but Ezra caught you before your knees slammed against the floor. His breath hitched in his throat as your weight pressed against the hardness in his pants and his hips bucked slightly, seemingly out of their own accord.

You wrapped your arms around Ezra's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue and lips and you greedily licked into his mouth, wanting to taste more, taste him. Rolling your hips against him earned you another stuttered breath and a moan from Ezra. He mumbled something against your lips and you had every intention of ignoring it in favor of continued kissing but Ezra pulled back and broke the kiss. You made a noise of complaint, which made him laugh.

“Sincerest apologies, Little Bird, but if I am to make good on my promise to appreciate every part of you we are going to have to pace ourselves, just a fraction...”

You were about to protest. To hell with pacing yourselves when you had Ezra's mouth only inches from yours! Perhaps sensing your usual stubbornness and unwillingness to cooperate returning, Ezra played dirty and reached down to press the tip of his finger gently against your opening.

“Fuck...” you shuddered, unsure if the next word was gonna be you, me or just fuck in general.

“That is what I am arguing for here, beautiful. But you and I are both still way too dressed for what I'm hoping comes next and, for the sake of your knees and my back, perhaps we could relocate ourselves to the relative comfort of my bed?”

As much as it pained you to admit, Ezra did have a point and, in a move that required more energy and coordination that it usually did, you climbed off him and stood up. Ezra got to his feet as well. He took your hand and kissed each of your fingers softly in a way that somehow felt more intimate than the place he'd been kissing a minute or two ago.

“Allow me to take you to bed?” he asked, even though you were under the impression that this had already been established as the next destination. You nodded impatiently and pushed him slowly backwards towards the bedroom.

“Take me to the bed or the kitchen table or back to the floor, Ezra. I don't care, I just... I just need you.”

Ezra's eyes darkened with lust and a moment later he was the one dragging you towards the beds. The two of you stopped just before you crashed onto Ezra's bunk, realizing that undressing might be a slightly easier endeavor before you were both tangled up on the small bed.

Ezra was quicker getting to your clothes than you were at getting to his and he pulled your shirt and then your sports bra over your head and tossed it to the side. You were fully naked now, while he was still fully dressed, if a little disheveled-looking. The contrast made you feel all the more undressed. Ezra watched you, with that same appreciation as before.

“I have imagined this. What you would look like... so gorgeous. Even in that spacesuit, you managed to drive me up the walls crazy. Can barely keep my hands off you,” he mumbled.

“So how about you don't,” you suggested. You were more than ready for this, it was just Ezra that needed to get with the program. He didn't need to compliment and woo you. He just needed to touch you.

You reached for his shirt, made quick work of getting rid of it before you made equally quick work of his pants and underwear. Now you were both naked and you took a moment to appreciate the newly revealed areas of skin. Ezra twitched as if it had been your hands and not your eyes which were caressing his body. You took a step closer.

“I want you to fuck me, Ezra,” you stated, perhaps a tad too matter-of-factly but Ezra made a noise that could only be described as a growl and crashed your mouths together again. Without the layers of clothes between you, your hands were free to roam and you tried touching every bit of skin that you could reach, slowly circling lower and lower, towards where you knew he wanted your touch the most. Ezra was giving as good as he was getting and when it was his impatience's turn to take hold, he grabbed your ass and pulled you fully against himself with a moan. You pushed him back and finally onto the bed. He laid down and watched, with almost pitch-black eyes, as you crawled on top of him and straddled his thighs.

He began talking again, nothing coherent this time, and you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him. Ezra seized the opportunity to grab your hips and pull you a little higher. You both moaned into each other's mouths as your folds dragged along his length.

“In me,” you whispered and Ezra reached down to position himself against your opening. In the slowest pace you could bring yourself to, you began lowering yourself onto him. Ezra's eyes looked like they were about to roll back in their sockets and he said your name, followed by a whole string of curses, some of which you had never heard before.

You stilled for a moment once he was fully inside you, letting yourself adjust slightly to the sensation, then you rose up to let him slide almost all the way out before lowering yourself again. The pace was much slower than what either of you wanted but if he was feeling anywhere near as needy for more as you did, then it would be worth it.

It seemed that he was because the very next thing out of Ezra's mouth was a begging plea.

“Please, Birdie,” he said and he sounded wrecked. You took pity on him, both for his sake and for your own. You couldn't handle this slow pace for a second longer either. Speeding up, you heard the relief in Ezra's breathing and he placed his hands on your hips again to help guide you into a quicker pace.

The sensation wasn't quite as overwhelming when you were the one in control but you could still feel your pleasure building every time Ezra slid back into you. His moans were becoming more and more ragged and you weren't sure how much longer he was gonna last. Just as you were about to ask, he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you down for a kiss. The move gave him a little more leverage to move his hips and you gasped as he snapped his hips up, making him hit a whole new spot inside you. He did it again. And again. And you had to take back the thought you'd just had about the sensation not being overwhelming. You met his thrusts as best you could, your rhythm becoming more and more sloppy the closer the two of you got to climax.

In the end, you cracked first. Pushed over the edge by the surprise of Ezra latching onto the skin of your neck and sucking, hard enough to leave a mark. As your second orgasm rushed through you, you felt Ezra follow and he moaned loudly as he came, still inside you. He continued thrusting a few more times before he slowed down to a stop.

The stillness that followed, as you had untangled slightly before pulling each other close again, was interrupted only by your panting breaths...and of course...

“If I were to die now, I'd die a happy and content man,” Ezra mumbled, his hand drawing patterns against your back.

“Dying now would be a breach of contract,” you informed him, with a small smile, “We still have a fifth of our rotation left before we're heading back for Icarus.”

“Only a fifth?” Ezra asked and you watched his brow furrow as he did the math.

“'fraid so.”

Ezra turned and gave you a devilish grin

“Then I propose we attempt to make the very most of that fifth, or what do say, Birdie?”

As his hand trailed lower, you couldn't help but nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @yespolkadotkitty​ @agirllovespancakes​ @beccaplaying @pedropascalito​ @ohpedromypedro​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @knittingqueen13​ @pedropascallion​ @scarlettvonsass @heatherbel​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @larakasser​ @fromthedeskoftheraven​ @seawhisperer​ @mourningbirds1​ @alwaysbethewest​ @thegreenkid​ @pajamasecrets

[baby-grayson]

Sweet Enigma: Part 2

Word Count: 2918 

Tag List: @wheezeatmedolans​ @styles-dolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @evergreendolan​ @baby-turtles​ @dolanstacoma​ @not-gbd​ @graysavant​ @someonetogray​ @dolansficsandpics​ @ batgirl099 @voguekristens 

Grayson’s eyes shifted from his seat in Kate’s car to his front door. His mouth folded into a tight ball, while he huffed out of his nose. His weak sinus responded by triggering a cough that filled the space of Kate’s car.

She winced and gave him a sideways glance from the driver’s side, “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

Grayson nodded and cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down, thankful to see that he was no longer wet—although he was highly disheveled. He pushed the passenger side door open and convinced his legs to walk toward his front door.

For a moment, he second guessed whether his key would open his own front door. Something about his house made it seem like foreign territory, like it belonged to another version of Grayson with much different priorities than the one that walked over that threshold.

Almost immediately, Grayson was faced with the tall, looming, svelte figure of Calvin Maddox.

Calvin Maddox was a slim shouldered, lengthy man with perfectly kept white hair: who walked with all the power, elegance, and traditionalism that came with having old money. Maddox had inherited a fortune from his bloodline: he maintained his money via his status as a Real Estate Tycoon in the deep South. Up until the night before, Calvin had liked Grayson. He had looked forward to being his father-in-law one day. Calvin would have never uttered this out loud in front of his family, but he even favored Grayson over his current son-in-law, Sherry’s sister Coral’s husband, Jackson White.

In that moment, Calvin’s steely blue eyes were forged with hatred and detest while he looked down his nose at Grayson while he made his way through the front door. Calvin’s figure reminded Grayson of a wolf, as the older man prowled his way across the living room and silently stepped in front of Grayson’s path. For a second, Grayson could have sworn he saw the man snarl at him.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Calvin’s Southern accent was thick and slathered with a calm anger, “Walking through that door, like nothing ever happened.” Grayson’s pupils trembled in his eyes as Calvin crossed his arms.

“I-uh,” Grayson stammered, “I just wanted to get a few things. I’m uh—I’m sorry—I am but—I’m not looking for a problem.” Grayson held out his palms in from of him, taking in a few shaky breaths. Calvin stepped toward Grayson, keeping his arms crossed. “You know my daughter wasn’t looking for a problem when she agreed to be your wife. But now I’m wondering if that’s really the case, son.” In the past year, Calvin had started calling Grayson ‘son’, in act of Southern hospitality. Usually, Grayson found it comforting; on that day, the word was charged with antagonistic energy.

Grayson gulped down, feeling his heart pound from deep within his chest. He opened his mouth to say something but found his entire mouth was dry, with his tongue hanging heavy against his palette.

“Now,” Calvin took another step toward Grayson. He narrowed his eyes at Grayson before continuing, “You want to tell me what happened last night Grayson.” Calvin took another step toward Grayson, leaving only a few inches of space between them, “Or are we going to have a problem?”

Grayson went blank, staring up at the older man with wide eyes and shallow breaths. His tongue flopped inside of his mouth, failing to create anything that could become coherent words. His bottom lip trembled as he tried to find a response that could face the moment.

From inside the house, behind the pair, a few footsteps came sauntering through the hallway.

“Hey,” Ethan’s voice was low and calm, “What’s going on out here?”

Grayson’s eyes immediately found Ethan’s: a pair of unsure, nervous eyes meeting an identical pair laced with assurance and relief.

Calvin did not shift from his position in front of Grayson. “Nothing Ethan,” he looked over his shoulder to find Ethan standing in an identical position: crossed arms and steely eyes. Calvin dropped his hands at his sides and stepped back from Grayson’s personal space, “Just asking your brother if he could explain why he decided to break my baby girl’s heart last night.” Grayson gulped again. He saw an accomplished look wash through Calvin’s eyes for a moment.

Calvin looked down, surprised to see Ethan place a hand on his shoulder, “I think my brother will talk, when he’s ready to talk.”

Grayson’s mouth fell into a tight line and he pushed his shoulders back: trying to feign confidence. Ethan patted Calvin’s shoulder chummily, nearly mocking the tension of the moment, “C’mon Calvin, I think you should eat something.” Grayson was extremely grateful to see Ethan lead the man away coolly. Finally alone in the room, Grayson breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t aware of it at the time, but Ethan had made excuses for Grayson’s disappearance the night before. In the weeks prior, Ethan had noticed his brother’s confidence slowly fade into a squirrelfish demeaner: he knew it was just a matter of time until Grayson’s façade broke. Ethan was shocked that Grayson chose his own engagement party to accept his inner qualms. Ethan wrote it off as another example of Grayson being the dumber twin.

From the car, Kate pulled down the sun visor in her car to inspect herself in the mirror. While Grayson mentally sparred with Calvin Maddox in the house, Kate discovered a few stress pimples forming between her temple and her left eye. She sighed and bored holes into the front door with her eyes, silently begging Grayson to come back as quickly as possible. She looked back in the mirror to recognize the under-eye bags and frizzy, unkept hair that came as a consolation prize with being a third-year doctoral student.

Grayson’s steps were hurried and frantic as he raced to his own bedroom: barely recognizing it under the hoards of overturned drawers and bags laying out the room. In a manic fit, Sherry had scoured and destroyed everything she could get her hands on, in a mad effort to understand where Grayson had gone and why he would want to leave her. Grayson’s heart stopped for a second, but his mind emphasized the importance of haste.

Moving quickly, he grabbed his orange, leather, Louis Vuitton duffel bag from the top shelf of his closet. He shuffled through piles of clothing to find the few pieces he though he would need in the coming days. He didn’t pay attention to the shoes he grabbed from his closet, putting whatever he found first in the bag. He was looking down at the bag, taking an inventory of what he had packed when the door to his on-suite bathroom slowly opened with a painful screech on its hinges.

In the door frame, was the image of Grayson’s exhausted, angry, and frenzied fiancé.

Sherry Kerrigan Maddox was drawn into the world with womanly curves and a Cheshire Cat smile. She knew nothing except for the high-class, debutante life of a Southern heiress. She grew up trailing her mother and sister at high-profile events: wearing big hats, drinking sweet iced tea, and laughing politely at the jokes of the country’s richest southern dynasties.

Sherry spent most of her teenage life away from her mother and father, attending a private boarding school with her older sister, Coral. Unlike Coral, Sherry never did particularly well in school. The only subject she was ever mildly interested in was French, which she learned to speak with superb proficiency, something that came in handy with her future modeling career. Once, Sherry had cried when she was handed a math test. Her teacher, who had just graduated from college, excused Sherry from taking the test in an act of kindness, not wanting to subject a young girl to public emotional strife. When the board of Sherry’s private school found out, they threated Sherry with suspension on the order of disobedience and violating the academic validity code. A cool word and hot money from Calvin Maddox promised that the teacher would be let go from the school, while his daughter could continue to happily doodle in her notebooks and forget about Algebra.

She was, objectively, beautiful. Her round face was complimented with full cheeks and a soft jawline. Her blue eyes were wide but almond shaped: inherently sensual. She wore a strong, arched brow: the brunette color of which exposed her as a fake blonde. But her hair was a gorgeous golden hue, always sitting exactly perfectly on her head. Sherry Maddox knew, quite well, that lipstick lasted longer, but always preferred to wear gloss, because it was more fun.

Her voice was choked with waves of torment, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Every muscle in Grayson’s body stiffened. In a deep place, he knew this conversation was coming he just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He swallowed hard, meeting his lips together in a flat pout. He let out a hard breath as Sherry spoke again, “What are you doing here?” Grayson didn’t turn to face her, “Sherry-I-“ “NO!” Her usual Southern elegance was gone from her presence, replaced with the unhinged pain of a woman with a broken heart, “You don’t get to say my name! You don’t get to just,” she motioned her arms in the air, “waltz in here!”

Grayson stammered and turned to find Sherry with tears in her eyes, shaking a pointed finger at him. He closed his mouth.

“So?” Her voice held a sharp edge, “You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” She gritted her teeth, “You leave me there. Alone.  In front of everyone. And you can’t even apologize.”

Grayson exhaled; his jaw shook in the attempt at finding something to say. He signed, “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know—I” Sherry interrupted him, “You? You embarrassed me? You humiliated me? You left me to explain to TMZ and Page6 why you weren’t there? You left me there to listen to Ethan’s pathetic excuses for you?” She sneered at him, “You must think I’m really stupid.”

Grayson reached an arm behind him, placing it on his duffel bag. He silently wished that he could run away, and leave this moment frozen for a more prepared Grayson to handle. “I don’t think that Sherry. I just –I need time.” His eyes pleaded with her; his heart felt like it was being plucked at by a thousand angry, clawed birds.

Sherry laughed: a cold laugh without an ounce of humor in her face. “You need time?” Her voice was vicious. “You need? Wow. We’re talking about what you need. What about what I need? What about the fact that I needed you last night? Thought didn’t cross your mind did it?”

Grayson’s face folded into a pained position, “I’m sorry Sherry. I really am. I—We—I can’t do this anymore.” In one swift motion, Grayson picked up his duffel bag and headed for the door. He tried to block out the sounds of Sherry’s cries and screams.

Making his way to Kate’s car, Grayson’s internal structure was panged with guilt. His mind tremored with the realization of the gravity of his actions.

Grayson landed in Kate’s passenger seat in a hectic, distressed position. Kate silently wished she had suggested that Grayson call Ethan to collect his things. Grayson turned to face her; a distraught form of inner terror palpable in his eyes.

His voice was low, “We’re really doing this.”

She gave him a sideways glance, “You’re really doing this.”

Grayson’s mouth flatlined. His jaw locked with tension and guilt. He thought back to Sherry, peering at the front door through the car window, he turned to face Kate.

The wounds in his heart burned when she said, “I’m not the one who needs a second chance because I treated you right the first time.”

The car ride to Kate’s apartment was silent except for the gentle buzz of her engine. She parked on the street and didn’t say a word to Grayson as she exited the car.

With her keys dangling in her hand, she quickly marched up the stairs and through her front door. Her energy was fluxed by the sight of Wesley in her living room. “Hey,” his voice was heavy with concern, “I texted you. I thought we were going for breakfast this morning?” His big brown eyes were weighed down with his care for her.

Kate’s mouth went dry as he tongues floundered for a moment, “Sorry—I must have forgotten. You know how things have been lately, I’ve been working more than I’ve been breathing.” Her words mushed together, making her sentence sound like one over-extended syllable.

Wesley stood up and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You doing alright Katie? I’ve been worried about you but this—this isn’t like you.” He gently thumbed her clavicle, “Maybe you should put work down for a little bit.”

Kate shook her head quickly, “No-I mean yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I am going to do. I was going to call you. I’m leaving. For now. To go to..Philly! I’m going to spend time with my mom in Philly.” She nodded enthusiastically, trying to fake a smile.

Wesley seemed satisfied with this answer, as his eyes lost some of their murk, “Good. I’m happy for you. When are you leaving?” “Today!” Kate’s answer came a bit too fast and too loud.

Wesley furrowed his brow, “And when are you getting back? Maybe we can take a weekend together before you go back to work?”

“I’m not sure,” Kate gave a weak shrug, “I didn’t book my return ticket yet.” She sucked in her top lip, “I was going to wait—for the weather. Wouldn’t want to book a ticket during a snowstorm.” Wesley placed a gentle kiss on her head, “Say hi to your mom for me. And remember, I’m a phone call away.” Kate’s own heart betrayed her as her pulse quickened under Wesley’s lips, “Will do.” She sighed in relief when she stepped away and headed for the door, “Enjoy your trip. Love you Katie.” “Love y-“ Wesley shut the front door and she did not finish.

Kate was emotionally uncomfortable. Not from lying to Wesley because this was not the first time she had lied to him. She was uncomfortable with how nearly comfortable she was in this dialogue.

She shifted her emotions to a distant place in her mind, deciding to struggle with them later. She worked methodically to pack a backpack with the clothes and toiletries she would need for the trip. At the bottom of her closet, she pulled out a shoebox with the two t-shirts and one pair of sweatpants she was left with after breaking up with Grayson. She included the pieces in her backpack, figuring this was as good a chance as any to give them back to him.

Hustling out of her door, she looked down to see her school bag thrown against the floor. She picked it up, her research in the back of her mind. With two backpacks and a jacket slung over her shoulder, she made her way to Grayson in her car outside.

Kate shoved her things in the back seat, next to Grayson’s duffel bag. With a huff, she dropped herself in the driver’s seat and turned to face Grayson.

He started first, “I’m sorry.” He spoke quickly, “I’m so sorry. I know I’m dragging you into this when you don’t deserve to be here. I should have never assumed that you would even be remotely interested in trying to—” Kate held up a finger to his lips. “This is my decision too.” Her voice was steady, the opposite of his frenzied tone. Grayson shook his head, his mouth felt sparks under her slender finger. “You’re not responsible for sorting through my emotions.” She looked at him, a serene balance in her eyes. She spoke with a confidence, “If I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t be here.”

[smegdwarf]

But Who Could Love Me? (Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 16

Warnings: Implied stuff I guess 👀

Summary: Basically giving Rimmer the love he deserves :P

With Lister, Kryten and Cat running round to get things ready for an impromptu celebration party, it allowed you and Rimmer to spend some time alone with no interruptions ...well apart from the odd scutter running into the door by accident.

“I still can’t believe I passed that exam” Rimmer mumbled between kisses as he laid gently over you.

“Well you better believe it officer!” You smiled as your fingertips gently caressed the hair at the back of his neck.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you” Rimmer’s eyes met yours as he leant into kiss you again.

“Hey all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy” You replied as you wrapped your arms round his shoulders.

“And I will be as long I’m with you” Rimmer spoke softly as he fell to your side “Becoming an officer is bonus and I’m grateful ...but all I’ve ever really needed is you”

“Ok who are you? And what have you done with my Arnold?” You teased as he chuckled.

“I am your Arnold!” Rimmer smiled as he draped his arm across your waist, his eyes taking in every detail of you as you laid beside him.

“Oh darling I know” You turned to face him, your noses almost touching “We should probably think about getting ready?”

“But this is a much better way to celebrate!” Rimmer’s voice was soft and sweet as he placed his finger under your chin, leaning in to kiss you “Don’t you think?”

“You know I’d love to stay here” You smiled, your hand on his chest “But we need to get ready”

You grabbed your dressing gown as you got up, aware of Rimmer’s eyes on you as you put it on.

“Enjoying the show?” You smirked as you turned to face him, tying the string around your middle.

“Maybe...” Rimmer smiled sweetly “I can’t help it”

“Do I have to pull you out of that bed?” You raised your eyebrow as he chuckled.

“Alright I’m getting up” Rimmer replied as he clicked his fingers, immediately changing into his uniform “I’m ready”

“You’re not really going in your uniform are you?” You smiled.

“What are you wearing?” Rimmer’s asked.

“Ah you’ll see but first” You smirked “Hol, can you give Rimmer his smart clothes please?”

Within seconds of asking, Rimmer was standing in front of you in his suit, the same suit he wore on your first proper date.

“Do I have to wear this?” Rimmer grumbled.

“Hold on ...take off the jacket” You spoke softly as he did as you asked.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see” You smiled as you began rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows “There you go, I made it a bit more smart casual”

Rimmer looked himself up and down, not totally sure what you had done he walked over to the bed to sit down, with his back to you as he sorted out his shoes. Just as you clicked your fingers to change yourself he tried to turn round and sneak a peek.

“Don’t look yet!” You smiled as he grumbled.

“Ooh why not?” He pretended to sulk.

“I’m not ready yet!” You replied, sorting out your hair.

“But all you had to do was click your fingers?” Rimmer was getting impatient.

“It’s not just the outfit you know?” You laughed as he tutted with a shake of his head.

“Can I look yet?” Rimmer asked once more.

“Hold on” You replied as you applied a coat of red to your lips with a pop “Ok now you can look!”

“Finally” Rimmer teased as he turned round, breath catching in his throat as he saw you “You never fail to take my breath away”

“Well you’re a hologram, you don’t...” You came to a stop as Rimmer tugged at your hips.

“You know what I mean” Rimmer spoke quietly, you could tell he was already trying to undress you with his eyes “You look beautiful”

“And you look handsome” You smiled “I know what your eyes are doing!”

“Damn” He chuckled “Was it that obvious?”

“Well as it is you, I’ll let you off” You spoke softly.

“Are you sure we can’t stay here?” Rimmer smirked as you shook your head with a laugh.

“You need to get your hormones sorted!” You replied resting your hands on his chest.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t want to go again?” Rimmer bit his lip as he smiled.

“Something tells me I’m gonna have a lot of fun at this party” You spoke quietly as Rimmer tried to understand what you were hinting at.

“I’m not sure I understand” Rimmer replied as you slowly lowered your hands, stopping at the waist of his trousers “You little tease!”

“Well let’s just say you’re not ruining my lipstick just yet” You gave him a wink before walking to the door.

“That’s not fair?” Rimmer called after you.

“Life’s not fair darling!” You smiled as you walked ahead of him down the corridor “And stop looking at my bum!”

Rimmer laughed as he followed on after you along the corridor, he knew he shouldn’t stare but he honestly couldn’t help it, for as long as he existed he’d never stop watching as you left a room and admiring every single part of you ...no matter how flustered and frustrated in a certain way you might make him. With you, for the first time in his entire existence, he was living.

“Ta-dah” Lister stood with his arms open wide as he presented the officers club that he and Cat had spent the afternoon decking out.

“Hey nice job lads!” You complimented them as they grinned while Rimmer stood beside you dumbstruck trying to take it all in ...that this was for him ...that everyone was being nice to him ...even if it was extremely challenging for some crew members.

“Only the best for our new officer” Lister grinned.

“Hey Lady bud scrubs up good” Cat smiled, sliding over to you as you heard a low grumble from Rimmer.

“Tongues in mouths please, tonight is about Arnie not me” You looked at both Cat and Lister.

“Can we start drinking now?” Cat grumbled, clearly for him it was an excuse for a piss up.

“Hol! Start the music” Lister commanded as music flowed through the room.

“I see Holly dressed up for the occasion too” Rimmer pointed out the floating head on the screen with a bow tie.

“What? And miss out on a good time?” Holly questioned as he started dancing.

“Yes Hol!” Lister cheered him on as he grabbed a can of lager from the table.

“Where’s Krytes?” You noticed the rubber head shaped hole in the room.

“He’ll be here soon” Lister chugged his drink “Come on let’s have fun!”

An hour or so into the party and Rimmer had already resided to a chair as he watched the rest of the crew gradually get more drunk and more dumb ...which for some was impressive.

“Hey what are you doing over here?” You smiled placing your hands on his shoulders.

“I’m just not really a party person” Rimmer smiled back.

“Come on, dance with me?” You asked but you knew the answer “The boys are ...as Lister would say ...nicely drunk ...they won’t make fun of you”

“I’d rather they were absolutely twatted”  Rimmer chuckled as you sat on his lap, wrapping your arms gently round his shoulders “How much have you had to drink?”

“Believe it or not, nothing!” You laughed as Rimmer’s arms rest comfortably at the bottom of your back “You’ve danced with me before?”

“I know but that was just the two of us” Rimmer smiled as you leant in to kiss him “Hello!”

“Hey!” You lingered close as you both looked at each other.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to ruin your lipstick?” Rimmer kept his voice low enough just for you to hear it.

“Ah that got your interest?” You spoke quietly as Rimmer smiled, looking down at what little space there was left between you.

“You know if you carry on we’ll have to leave?”

“Well we wouldn’t want that now would we?” You replied as you both giggled through kisses.

“Oi Oi, what’s this funny business?” Lister stumbled over bringing the two of you to a halt.

“We’ll continue this later” You whispered in Rimmer’s ear, making sure to cover your mouth with your hand so Lister couldn’t attempt to lip read.

“Whatever it is, you can say it in front of me?” Lister slurred as Rimmer’s cheeks and ears turned pink.

“Where is that bog bot?” Rimmer asked as Kryten came in, trolley rolling in front of him as if he was serving Lister his dinner “What are you doing?”

“I would’ve been here sooner but I was getting this cleaned up for you sir” Kryten rambled as he handed Rimmer a cloth wrapped gift.

“Cleaned up?” Rimmer looked at the cloth bundle in his hand.

“Well open it then?” You smiled sweetly as you stood up from his lap to give him space.

It was then that Rimmer had noticed the music had stopped and that everyone had gathered round him. Slightly overwhelmed he opened the cloth to reveal his new insignia.

“To Rimmer!” Lister raised his glass as everyone grabbed their drinks and followed.

“To Rimmer!” Everyone echoed as Rimmer’s cheeks turned red, he wasn’t used to the attention.

“We might not get on most of the time but we wouldn’t change ya” Lister smiled at Rimmer “Congratulations man!”

“Thanks Listy” Rimmer replied.

“Hey bud, we don’t get on and we probably never will but you’ve already proved me wrong once” Cat grinned, insincere as always “Congrats bud!”

“Thank you ...I think” Rimmer chuckled as everyone laughed, sincere emotional moments like this very rarely happened on the dwarf and nobody really knew how to deal with them.

“Arnie, I’m gonna keep this short and sweet and save the soppy one for later, so Cat and Lister don’t hit me” You smiled as you sat back down on Rimmer’s lap but before you could continue speaking Lister spoke up.

“Let’s get the party rolling again shall we?” Lister cheered as him and Cat went back to drinking themselves goofy.

“Nevermind then” You sighed as Rimmer looked at you a little sad.

“Here Kryten can you look after this for me?” Rimmer handed his new insignia back over to Kryten.

“Of course sir” Kryten replied before scurrying off to put it in a safe place.

“Where were we?” Rimmer smiled at you sweetly as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Congratulations darling!” You spoke softly as you leant in to kiss him “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you but you know I couldn’t have done it without you” Rimmer tilted his head slightly to look at you as you caressed his cheek.

“Oh come on, this is the one time everything is about you and you won’t accept it?” You smiled as Rimmer shrugged.

“I’m a changed man?” He chuckled as you laughed.

“No you’re not, the arrogant self centered person was an act, you’ve always been sweet and considerate really” You delicately brushed back his curls.

“Only for you darling!” Rimmer smiled sweetly “I never thought in all my years as a human and 3 million into deep space as a hologram that I would have a beautiful girlfriend or be an officer and here I am with both thanks to you”

“They say the best things are worth waiting for and I think you’ve waited long enough” You replied as he took your hand in his “You deserve it all Arnie, you deserve to be happy”

“As long as I have you I will be” He brought your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss “I love you darling”

“I love you too” You spoke softly as you leant into his ear “Shall we go?”

Rimmer’s reaction was enough of an answer as he lifted you from his lap before standing up himself, his hands on your waist as he leant down to kiss you.

“Let’s go!” He smiled as you took his hand in yours and walked him out of the room, looking round to make sure nobody saw you.

Giggling and messing around like lovesick teenagers as you made your way down the corridor towards the lift.

“Well get in then!” You smiled as Rimmer raised his eyebrow.

“Ladies first!” He gestured to the lift sarcastically as you gave him a tut and a shake of your head “What?”

“Come on” You smirked as you held his tie in your hand before using it to pull him in the lift with you.

As soon as the doors to the lift shut his hands were on you, tugging at your hips to bring you as close to him as possible, placing your hands on his chest as you kissed. The kisses were soft but passionate as he held you against him, the closer the two of you got to the floor of your quarters the heavier the atmosphere got.

“You could at least try and wait till we get to my quarters?” You teased.

“You know I’m hopeless around you!” Rimmer laughed softly as you reached the door, his hands still glued to your waist as he gently pushed you in, kisses growing more passionate as you reached the bed, feeling the mattress tap the back of your legs as you fell down “I think I might’ve got too carried away”

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes focused on your mouth as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Your lip is bleeding a little” Rimmer looked at you worried.

“Hey it’s ok, it’s worth it” You smiled as Rimmer laughed before leaning back down and continuing from where you left off.

[duhragonball]

Gohan for the character ask!

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: I think the main appeal of Gohan is that he’s constantly being pulled in two directions.   You can interpret those two opposing forces however you please: Saiyan vs. Earthling, Chi-Chi vs. Goku, fighter vs. scholar, etc.   But I think it’s a pretty relatable dilemma.  

What’s also relatable is that Gohan tries to blaze his own trail, even as he works hard to satisfy everyone’s expectations of him.   The moral of his story is that it’s not always easy to find your own path.  It sounds liberating, but it also means you’re on your own.  

Why I don’t: Very early on, I was frustrated with Gohan being such a major player in DBZ when it didn’t seem like he was qualified for the role.    It took me a while to recognize how important his “hidden” power was to the story.   That, and the fact that the good guys usually only ever involved him in a battle because they had no other options.   I think it’s interesting that Gohan maintains such a low profile during the Androids/Cell arc, so when he finally gets tapped to fight Cell at the end, it’s treated like a huge plot twist.   It’s ironic, because Gohan was so instrumental in defeating Vegeta, and if he had beaten Frieza on Namek, I don’t think anyone would have been shocked.   As it is, he was built up to be the guy who would beat Majin Buu, and everyone’s still mad that he lost. 

For a time, I was frustrated that Gohan was technically the strongest character at the end of the Buu Saga, even though Goku was the main guy.    It just felt wrong somehow, and I’ve seen enough “Mystic Gohan vs. SSJ3 Goku” threads on the internet to know that a lot of people used denial to cope with it.  

None of this really made me dislike the character, though.   I think most of the hand-wringing about Gohan is just a side-effect of that tug-of-war he’s been in his whole life.  Some fans want to see him kick ass, some want to see him settle down and be a student/family man/scholar.    Super tried to play it both ways by having Gohan be out of shape and then suddenly get good after a crash course with Piccolo.   It seemed like half the fans were happy to see that and half were upset.    Personally, I liked that approach better than how they handled him in GT, where he dressed like a nerd in church but could still throw down with Vegeta.   He used SSJ1 the whole time, so what happened to the Elder Kai power up?    GT just shrugged and hoped no one would care.   

For my part, I think it makes sense for Gohan to try to balance fighting and academia and family life.   Team Four Star made a lot of hay out of the idea that Gohan hates fighting, full stop, but I don’t totally buy that.  Gohan may not enjoy fighting for his life, or killing people, but I think he’s cool sparring with his family, for example.  But he can’t just throw himself into it like the others, so he’s got to train hard to keep up, and then he has to work hard at his ill-defined job, and then he has to be a good parent.   That’s the character.   Goku can be carefree, but Gohan has a lot of responsibilities. 

I do sort of wish they would focus on that balancing act, since that’s what Gohan’s all about.  Super only did it long enough to spackle over a plot hole.   “Frieza beat him in one hit, so how’s he going to do any good in the Tournament of Power?   Oh, Piccolo worked him over for a while, so he’s back in shape now.”    It’s not enough, and I think this is why some fans argue over the dilemma instead of appreciating the dilemma.   It’s a feature, not a bug.

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

Gohan just dismantling Cell is the standard by which I judge all wrestling grudges.    The reason WWE sucks is that they’ll have the bad guy Perfect Cell all over the place for months, and then they fuck up the part where the good guy is supposed to turn SSJ2 and dole out sweet, sweet consequences.    If all you know how to do is the first half of the formula, then... well, I’m cancelling my WWE Network subscription, I guess.  I forgot where this analogy was heading.  

Point is, Gohan’s an awesome moment factory.   Take a look.

You can’t go wrong.

Favorite season/movie: Cell Games, let’s be honest.  

Favorite line: When he calls Super Buu a r-- hahaha, no.   I’m actually thinking of the part in the Funimation dub when Cell starts to panic.    In Japan, the narrator explains Cell’s fear, and in Latin America it was meme fuel, but in the U.S., Gohan reminds Cell that he warned him about this. 

“What are you so afraid of Cell? Isn't this what you wanted? I warned you! I told you what would happen if you pushed me too far! But you didn't listen! You forced me to awaken my hidden power! And now that you've seen it, you're afraid...because you know that I'm going to destroy you!” 

It’s a brilliant bit of work, because you can’t see Gohan’s face in the shot, so he can be the one to point out what the narrator says in all the other versions.   They all compliment each other so well.    I cannot emphasize enough how grateful I am for Brickshitting Cell.  

Favorite outfit:

It’s a tough call, but Casual Friday Great Saiyaman is a killer look, and one of the few Gohan outfits that isn’t based on some other thing.   Let’s be real because I am keeping it real: Videl only wanted to unmask Great Saiyaman because she saw his outfit and could not stop thinking about how hot he’d look if he ditched the helmet and cape and wore sunglasses instead.   

OTP: Videl.   Well, Gohan and Videl.    Godel?   Vihan?   None of these sound right.   He should stick with the lady he made a baby with, is what I’m saying.

Brotp: Krillin literally calls him bro throughout the Namek arc, so I think this one wins by default.   On the other hand, Goten is literally Gohan’s brother, so I guess that can’t be ignored.  

Personally, I think of Piccolo more as a brother figure to Gohan than a father figure, since he’s only a few years older than him, so maybe that’s my answer, but whatever. 

Head Canon: I think Gohan is disillusioned with outer space after having traveled to another planet and finding only death and horror.   It’s kind of tragic that this is a kid who should be totally into space and spaceships and he should be telling space facts to everyone who will listen, but that probably stopped being fun after Namek.  

Unpopular opinion: He was never going to be the main character of DBZ.   I think even Toei was hoping for some sort of torch-passing thing, but it never materialized, and Gohan only took the reins because Goku was too dead or Vegeta was too evil to do it instead.   And Gohan never really wanted to be the main character anyway.    I look at him and see a guy who’s totally happy to be the overlooked son of this pop culture phenomenon.    He sees his dad’s parade float and he’s just super-thrilled to see his dad in baloon form.    There’s no sense of “If only I was better at this, and then I could have my own parade baloon!”  That’s Vegeta.   

A wish: Pay Bruce Faulconer whatever he wants and use “Gohan Fights Frieza” in the next anime where Gohan kicks somebody’s ass.    Also, make a new anime where Gohan kicks somebody’s ass.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: You know, one of these years, some official DBZ story is going to be made where they decide to “get serious” and have Gohan say a bunch of “cathartic” stuff to Goku, calling him a terrible father or some other horseshit.    Like how DC brought back Jason Todd just to have him bitch at what a crappy parent Batman is.    Again, I hope I’m safely cremated before that happens, but so many pompous dopes are gonna gush about a hacky moment like that, and go on their YouTube vlogs to say “it’s about time!”    

5 words to best describe them: Gohan Fights Frieza Dot mp3.

My nickname for them: I... don’t really have one?   Do people nickname fictional characters?   I didn’t know that was a thing.

[animaniachan]

Happy Belated April Fools!: A3! Camel Tenma Imagine

…yes, you’ve read the title right

…no, i don’t have that kind of fetish

…but also yes, i’ve also just wrote a 1.5k+ words imagine on a camel (in reality this took me about a week to fully figure out how to camel)

i would like to point out that none of this would’ve happened if not for the lovely @currywaifu for dragging me down into this hell. 99.9% of the credit for this imagine goes to you even though i am the one who wrote it. so i figured that since i’m already here, ima drag all of you down here with me ;)))

on that note, i would be opening imagine requests for this blog very soon but dear god not about tsundere animals, this is not in any way indicative of how the future writing projects on this blog are going to go…maybe.

anyways, prepare yourselves and enjoy…i guess

ao3 version: here

NIGHTMARE FUEL WARNING

—

“Mm…” your previous drowsy eyes were forced open to the bright sunlight beaming down at you. “...Where the hell am I and what am I doing here?” you glanced around, confusion clearly littered in your hues. What you are witnessing before you is a vast, open field of vibrant green with not much more to offer other than some lonely trees spread out in the distance.

You had no recollection whatsoever about your current situation. The last vivid memory you had was your visit with your celebrity, carrot-head boyfriend at the Mankai Dorms since today was the one time when he actually had a day off. “Seriously...where the hell is this place…?” Since there’s no point in simply standing around like an idiot, you’ve decided to explore this vast pool of greenery, hoping to discover at least some sort of clue.

However, your hopes to discover anything quickly dissipated as the field seemed like it was stretching infinitely with no clear signs of an end. It was at that moment that an indescribable sense of despair took control of your entire being and you hopelessly collapsed onto the green cushion below you.

In contrast to the beautiful scenery around you, your mood was like a wilted flower as you slowly scrunched your knees up and buried your head into them. You know that the waterworks would kick in very soon while your only wish at this point was to leave this mysterious hellhole so you can see your boyfriend again and jump into this arm for comfort and finally STOP this god forsaking nudging sensation on your head and, and…

Hm? Nudging?

You suddenly realized the gentle yet weighted sensation that would periodically brush against your head was not just your imagination playing tricks on you and was very real. Relief began filling in your wounds of despair as just the thought of another individual being here with you is more than enough comfort. You swiftly glanced up to the source of the contact in hopes of finally receiving the information you’ve been desiring for all this time.

However, the second you did so, all the thoughts that previously occupied your mind was sucked into a boundless black hole. The world seemed to stop flowing around you as you were met with the most gorgeous amethyst hues you’ve ever witnessed in your life. The sharp gazes pierced through you like arrows and it was then you noticed the long lashes that complemented those perfectly-shaped eyes. With a breath hitched in the middle of your throat,  you can’t help but be completely mesmerized by those crystal clear hues. Incidentally, at the same time, a strong sense of nostalgia emerged from the depth of you, they reminded you of someone, almost as if you’ve stared into the exact same hues before...somewhere…

At that point, you were so deep in thought that it resulted in you simply staring blankly back at the intense amethyst gaze. It wasn’t until you saw that they eventually broke contact with your own hues in a very awkward and uncomfortable fashion that you’ve realized you’ve been staring for much too longer than you had originally anticipated.

“Ah— I’m so sorry! That was very rude of me to stare! The truth is, I have no idea where this place is and was hoping that you could help me—” desperately trying to redeem yourself from the previous rudeness displayed, you bowed hectically like a maniac while asking for forgiveness. It wasn’t until you’ve glanced up again how large the figure of the individual actually was. The first to come into view was their abnormally long yet muscular legs, then it proceeded to a very broad yet protruding back, lastly you traced their body line all the way up to their long neck before finally receding back to those gorgeous amethysts which stood out amongst the pool of orange. “...What?”

T-This is what you think it is...or is it? As dumbfounded as you are by your recent discovery, your brain cells have somehow managed to process the identity of the individual before you. 

This is...a camel, right? What the hell is a camel doing in the middle of a meadow!? 

In contrast to your actual feelings, the orange beast seemed to think of your reaction to his figure a form of compliment, evident by how it arrogantly puffed its chest out and gave a good ol’ proud huff in response.

...I wasn’t praising you, that was all shock, you proud idiot… The phrase that floated into your mind was all too familiar since it was your go-to response to the occasional idiocy of a certain carrot-head actor. “I swear...just when I started to get hopeful again...why?” Today has been an emotional rollercoaster and just when you thought you’ve already made it down the first slope, there seemed to be an even larger second slope ahead. The dam that had previously managed to contain your tears previously broke down once again. Sorrowful sobs continuously escaped your lips and refused to cease as you vigorously tried to wipe away your tears.

However, what you didn’t realize was the flustered look the camel gave after seeing you suddenly resolve into tears as if it’s trying to say, “why did you suddenly start crying!? You were just fine a minute ago!” Your sudden outburst of emotions managed to put this camel into a panic frenzy as it desperately looked around as if attempting to find a source of comfort to calm you down. Though, its efforts were futile as the lack of resources around you could be comparable to a barren wasteland.

All that it can do now is look down hopelessly at your slumped state while having a mental battle with itself about the next course of action. Then, after having seemingly arrived at a viable solution, resolution flickered in its glittering amethyst orbs. After letting out a huffing sigh, the majestic orange beast lowered its lengthy neck to eye-level with you and leaned in as gentle as it can muster to be to not so much lick, but instead offer a gentle peck to your teary eyes with its furry snout.

Completely caught off guard by the action that is absolutely unbefitting of a camel, your overwhelming emotions came to a halt as you stared back at the animal, mouth agape. “You...what are you…?”

“Mrrorahhh…” To your question, the camel simply responded with incomprehensible camel noises. Of course, it was a camel, what did you even expect. However, somewhere, you felt, its emotions came through.

“Are you...perhaps telling me to stop crying?”

“Mrrorahh.” Once again, the camel cried as if to confirm your inquiry.

“Hehe, thanks. You’re right, crying’s not going to change anything,” honestly, you couldn’t believe that you were just comforted by a camel as you wiped away the last of the tears that streaked down your face. “You’re surprisingly a very smart and kind camel eh? There, there, thanks again.” Without thinking, you reached out and gave a few loving strokes on the animal’s head. Though, the second you’ve done so you felt it tense and freeze in place like a statue. Uh-oh, did I somehow offend it by petting it? Wait, can you even offend a camel in the first place? Oh god, whatever you do, just please don’t eat me… “S-sorry, I kind of just instinctively did that- huh?”

Of course, you’ve brought up your guards as soon as you detected the camel’s odd actions since you didn’t know and didn’t want to know what it could do to you if it went off a rampage. However, what happened next managed to send all common sense you’ve come to know in your life down a limitless black hole.

What you’ve witnessed was the animal before you once again averting those brilliant purples away from your own though this time, a deep shade of rosy pink was dyed across its entire face. T-This...this is what I think it is right? I never knew that camels were even capable of blushing… So you do learn something new everyday…

“Pfft...hahaha! What is this? You’re so adorable! Oh my god, I can’t- my stomach hurts!”

In response to your maniac laughter, the very same one you would use to make fun of a certain actor, you could’ve sworn the camel gave you a glare that suggested, “what the hell is so funny and don’t call me adorable!”

“Ahahaha...ha...you know, even though you’re a camel, you remind me a lot, like a lot of someone I know.” The camel whipped its gaze back towards you again at your nonchalant comment. It narrowed its perfectly shaped eyes and offered you the gentlest and kindest gaze as if it understood your words. And in response, as much as you hate to admit it, your heart definitely skipped a beat under those warm and kind eyes. What is this feeling…?

“-i, [Name], -ake up!”

No, this is a camel! There’s no way that I’m being captivated by a camel-!

“Wake up!”

Besides, even if I did feel this way, there’s no chance in hell since I already have Tenm-

“[NAME]!!”

Your eyes shot open almost as quickly as your body which basically catapulted upwards and resulted in painful contact with whatever it was that lurked above you. “Ow!”

“OW! What was that all about!?”

“Eh? Tenma…?” The first thing that descended in your field of vision was your orange-haired, multi-talented actor, and extreme tsundere boyfriend who was now holding his forehead in pain from the lovely headbutt that you’ve just offered him. Still not registering the full extent of the situation, you glanced around your surroundings in a daze before realizing that you’re in Tenma and Yuki’s room of the Mankai Dorm and that you’re currently laying on Tenma’s bed.

“Geez… I don’t know what to be more baffled by, the hardness of your head or the fact that you can fall asleep in a duration of a phone call.”

Ahh...so that’s what it is…

The second the puzzle pieces clicked into place, a new resolution was formed inside of you as you wordlessly leaped off your boyfriend’s bed and made your way out of his room.

“Oi, [Name], where are you going?” Not used to not hearing a familiar comeback from you, Tenma began to get worried as he hurriedly followed after your footsteps.

Meanwhile, your silent search finally came to an end as you found the one and only you were looking for in the living room, “hey, Tsuzuru-san?”

“Mm? What’s the matter, [Name]?”

“I have a request for the script of the next summer troupe show,” you stoically stated just as Tenma finally caught up to you.

“Oh? Well, let’s hear it.”

“...can you please cast Tenma as a camel for his next performance?”

“...huh?”

“WHY!?”

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Taboo Attachment

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: Demon AU, Arranged Marriage?, Copious amounts of fluff, Logically impossible tween stupidity, Incredibly dense adult Y/n, Jungkook’s a bit of an ass oops

Warning(s): Minor violence towards the end

Words: 18k 

Summary: Young innocence and an unhealthily stupid-lack of common sense lead to you accidentally summoning a demon on your 13th birthday. Somehow agreeing and forming some contract with the said demon, they disappear and so does your memory of it. 10 years later and finally financially stable enough to start college, you wake up with an ash-grey ring in your right ring finger. Despite your efforts, the ring will absolutely not come off. Now, all of a sudden your demon returns and apparently 13-year-old you got yourself engaged to this demon man.

----

a/n: WOWIE I finally finished this monster LOL. It only took me months of procrastination (and several compliments from Cam lmao). Pls love Demon Jimin, he just wants to get married

----

@angeltothecore @jong-yixing @geekybookworm1993 @hobi-sunshineee @skytime092 @gingerpeachtae

-XXX-

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?  

The demon perched in the shadows of your bathroom as he sat on the top of your glass shower door that was firmly shut.  His spiraled horns breaching his skull as they pointed towards the heavens they will never belong.  His black hair hovered over his crimson-dulled eyes as his fangs remained hidden behind his frown.  His skin was grey and a thin, barbed ended tail sung and tapping your shower door ever so lightly that you didn’t even take notice. His skin darkened to a pitch, coal-black at his elbows to his hands and from his knees to his feet.  Wearing only a cloak tied around his waist that hung loosely off his shoulders, he almost growled.  

Why had he suddenly been summoned to a little fucking girl’s bathroom that was pitch black dark and covered in scented candles that made his nose burn? His claws black hand covered his nose and mouth, the scent of ‘Autumn Leaves’ absolutely nauseating. His single ash-grey ring was oddly warm against his skin. 

Your scent was young, as your body was fragile and tiny.  No older than 13 he guessed.  It had been a while since he had seen a human, much less a human child.  Wearing a tacky nightgown in the ugliest shade of yellow he had ever seen and socks up to your knee that hid under the length of your gown.  Your hair was a mess like you just rolled out of bed.  It was just barely brushing your shoulders with its short length. 

You held what looked like a well worn down container of lipstick that you had used to scribble on the mirror in front of you. A lame excuse of a spell circle he saw in the uneven shapes and symbols.  Lighting your candles on either side of the sink and even on the toilet tower. Was this some stupid prank?  Were you a demon in disguise here to just jerk him around with your stupid little half-ass summoning? 

You dropped the lipstick into the sink’s bowl as you squeaked and covered your mouth, quickly looking at the closed bathroom door.  The demon’s head followed and watched as nothing happened.  His barbed tail whipped as you let out a sigh of relief.  You trotted to the door, locking it and flinching with the lock clicked almost too loud.  Like it would wake up your parents.  

The demon sat perched cupped his cheek in one of his hands, the other still cutting the smell of the candles off from his nose.  He almost chuckled.  Performing a summoning in secret at balls-ass o’clock behind mommy and daddy’s backs and your just now locking the door? God, children were so stupid. 

The demon almost spoke up, but he remained silent.  Obviously, you didn’t know you had already rudely awoken him from his slumber and dragged him here in his sleeping robe.  You were completely clueless to the horned and fanged beast right under your nose- rather right above your puny little head. 

When you left your sink cabinet, the demon peered some other objects in the sink’s bowl.  There was a silver bowl, looking cheap and used like it came right out of your mother’s baking cabinet (it did). Inside the bowl was all sorts of objects that different demon’s could possibly fancy.  

A cheapy made and obviously fake stone knife with hardly any edge or point on it.  A salt shaker filled with salt with the holed top taped up so none would escape its glass spice prison. A doll that looked like a 45-year-old bling hag and sewed it together for someone she hated.  It was too much like a cheap version of a voodoo doll, but hell if you knew that when you decided to add it to your treasure bowl.  

The demon also noticed a piece of printer paper taped onto the sink’s countertop.  Squinting his red eyes to get a better look at the words so far from him, he read your language of course as well as what he could assume was Latin.  He’s heard it enough as he silently ran the words through his head.  

He sat straighter on top of your shower door as he shrugged.  Well, he had to give you some credit for trying.  Of course, the summoning did work, he wasn’t something he really needed to stick around for.  This demon- he- was a demon used in trade summoning.  Summoning that only need to take place when the summoner will exchange something with the demon in return.  Naturally, it wouldn’t be a true demon bargain unless there were a few rules the summoner would be forced to obey. 

For example, the list of names he had stolen the souls of and dragged them down with him into hell was still growing.  He had a pretty hefty track record of always giving his client what they wanted, as well as always securing their soul in life and of course in death.  He’s done trades of service and of objects, he wasn’t picky.  Work and work and with how long he’s been at it, it was all very dull. 

Perhaps that’s why he stuck around watching this clueless, stupid teenager barely at puberty floundering around at 3 AM.  You were something quite unique to the demon’s interest.  

He watched you cup your chin as you scanned the paper that held the spell you chanted to get him here.  He wondered if you even knew what kind of demon you were summoning or if you were just doing this blind for God-knows-what reason.  

Human’s get more interesting with each stupid generation, he thought to himself as he let out another swish of his tail. Perhaps he should introduce himself he thought as he grinned to himself.  His fangs showing as he swung his tail to hit the glass of your shower door, finally getting your attention as you turned around and made eye contact with your demon.

-XXX-

It was your 13th birthday as you woke up to the dreary cloudy sky outside.  You sat in your bed, yawning and looking outside in a daze.  You had to go to school today and you wished your parents would let you stay home since it was your birthday.  It’s not like you had anyone to spend it with other than your parents.  

You were only 13.  The effects of puberty and social norms hitting you like a nuclear bomb.  If you weren’t dressed in what was popular, you didn’t leave your house.  You bought all the ‘very in’ school bags and pencils and books.  You read on all the stupid gossip about celebrities and feigned a ‘starstruck’ crush on some over the top male teen idol.  

Only 13 and you were desperate to have some sort of connection with someone.  You hadn’t had many friends when you were younger.  Too much of a tomboy and when you were in the 4th grade, someone accused you of feeding the class pet- a hamster- something bad that made it very sick and it eventually died.  You knew it wasn’t you, but no one listened and the teacher scolded you.  Everyone avoided you after that. 

Of course, your mother and father were very generous people and treated you well, but when they worked all the time it wasn’t the same as what a friend would be.  Their companionship was appreciated, but not what you craved.  

Life was tough to a 13-year-old middle schooler.  You just huffed as you flopped back on your bed, wanting to go back to bed when your mother knocked on your door, telling you to get up and get ready.  

She always took you to school when she left for work in the morning.  Though, you had to walk home.  You didn’t have the guts to ride the bus.  It was too cramped and putting yourself in a tiny space where everyone was forced to ignore you or snicker behind the stupid, uncomfortable leather seats wasn’t worth the hassle. 

At least no one knew it was your birthday and you could go through the day normally.  You pulled on your jacket, some t-shirt with a bigshot band and your jeans as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your bag with all your completed homework inside.  

Going downstairs, saying hello and receiving a warm happy birthday message from your parents, you loaded into your mother’s car and soon was staring at the neighborhood zoomed passed your eyes out the window.  You watched people walk in groups or lots of kids waiting for their bus.  Jealous, you closed your eyes and just wished the day would end.  

It was in your history class that your teacher, instead of actually teaching today, turned on some random movie about a person who summoned a demon.  The protagonist and this demon go on some sort of trip to achieve some goal, but you zoned it out as the solution to your solitude was right in front of you. 

If you couldn’t make friends, you could just summon one!  The rest of the day was filled with you sneaking your phone out in class and researching all sorts of demon summonings.  You were confused by everything you read.  Some articles didn’t take themselves seriously, others took themselves very seriously and some just contradicted what you read on a different site.  

You came home in a rush and went to your room to read up more, even renting a book about demons from your school’s library.  You were desperate and impatient, so you would cram as much knowledge in your brain as you could.  You would be performing this summoning tonight, be it hell or high water. 

Going to bed early and telling your parents' goodnight, you fell asleep before groggily waking up at the alarm you set for 2:45 AM.  Trudging around your room, you grabbed the paper spell you printed before you tiptoed around your dark and quiet house.  Loading up a bowl with all sorts of things you read about before going to your bathroom and shutting the door.  The nightlight plugged into the wall was flicked off by you as you lit your candles and then began.  

You panicked as you dropped your mother’s lipstick into the sick and ran to the door to lock it after making sure it was still absolutely silent in your house.  Your bathroom was quite away from your parent’s room, so it wasn’t logical they’d hear you anyways.  

You sighed as you walked to reread your paper.  Maybe you chanted the spell wrong?  You obviously weren’t very well versed in Latin. You were ready to maybe give it another go or give up when you nearly screamed at the bang behind you.  Something hit your shower door and you whipped around.  

Nothing was behind the glass, but when you looked up, you locked eyes with someone.  No, something?  It wasn’t human by any stretch.  They hid well in the darkness, almost unseeable, but their glowing red eyes blinking made solid proof they were in fact there.  

You heard whatever it was chuckle lightly before they jumped off your shower door and back into the shower itself.  You saw their blurry silhouette stand behind the glass door.  They were tall and you could see the outline of their horns stretching above their head. A vague shadow of something whipping around behind them was also visible in the dark room that your eyes had grown accustomed to. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you stepped forward cautiously and grabbed the small handle of your magnetic shower door and lightly pulled it open.  A small click of the magnetic detaching and the whine of the door as you slowly opened it.  Revealing the grey-skinned demon in front of your large, teenage eyes. 

You actually did it.  You legitimately summoned a demon.  Like, a real one?  He looked authentic enough at least.  Not some trick of the mind or some dream your desperate wants threw together in your head.  No, he had to be real.  He was almost terrifyingly so. 

“Good evening,” he slurred to you.  His voice was low and almost felt like it slithered like a snake.  Smooth and unwavering like a single tone. “It’s not every night I get little one’s summoning me,” he coaxed.  A shiver ran up your spine at his voice again. 

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you held your hands together in front of your chest.  The reality of the entire situation not sinking in.  You had a demon you summoned in your bathroom at 3 AM after your birthday. 

The demon chuckled as he folded his hands behind his back, putting on the most innocent smile he could muster.  Children were so fragile.  He couldn’t have you go and faint with his overwhelming presence and with how hard he could hear your heart beating, it could very well happen.  

“What is your name dear?” He sang to you.  You gulped.  You remembered reading that if a demon asks your name, you must insist they tell you their first.  You opened your mouth to ask him his in proper demon etiquette, but your throat was too dry.  Swallowing and opening and closing your mouth as a way to make sure your lips still worked, you tried again.  

“What’s-” you fumbled but regained your voice with a clearing of your throat.  “What’s your name?” You mimicked his question back to him.  He just smiled.  

“So,” he began, obviously not going to tell you his name so easily, “you know the bare minimum of demon introduction at the very least.  I’m impressed a little sprout like you can even handle summoning a demon with my power.”  If he wasn’t a demon that looked like he could rip out your kidney and eat it like some creepypasta character, you would get mad at him for repeatedly calling you little.  

He cocked his head at you, remaining his charade of innocence as you remained silent.  Why was it always the children who remained so shell shocked at something they were expecting to happen?  Sure, adults were too, but they were at least capable of screaming or throwing a fit or something.  Children just stop functioning.  

��Dear?” He tried again.  You just shook your head. 

“You first,” you were stubborn at least.  He tutted his brow up as he unclasped his hands behind his back and placed them on his hips.  His unearthly long claws catching your eye and making you swallow.  With those, he really could rip out your kidney if he wanted to.  

Tapping those dangerous fingers on his lips that seemed to be stuck in a permanent smirk, he finally put his hand back down.  Letting it hang past his slim waist and playfully drumming his fingers against his thigh. 

“Which name would you prefer, little one?” His voice teased.  He has pulled you along with a game of guesses, not willing to answer you easily.  He did have many names to be fair.  From slurs of his world to nicknames, to his demon name and his original name before his demonic ways came to fruition.  The demon moved to saunter far too graciously to your sink, placing his rear on the top of the counter and crossing his legs. “Did you not know my name despite you summoning me?  That’s far too clumsy- for a child to make mistakes like that.” 

He moved one hand, a clawed finger pointed at your heart.  “Any other demon met with such an incompetent summoner would tear out your heart as payment.” He watched you visibly gulp again.  Your hair stood up on end on your arm as your back held the best straight posture of your young life. 

You shook your head.  “I just wanted-” you cut yourself off.  The demon arched a dark brow at you as he brought his hand back to rest lazily over his lap.  Your voice turned shaky, fluttering with uncertainty and a sense of what he could almost call desperation.  As if you were trying to plead with him to sympathize with you. 

Demons could not feel sympathy.  If they did, it would be a weakness and the first step to an attachment.  That was the last thing any demon wanted. To become attached to anyone or anything. 

“You just wanted what, child?” The demon’s voice changed.  Altering just a bit.  An undertone like a second voice layering over his original velvet voice.  Like static or a low buzzing hum in the background. 

You looked down at your feet covered in socks on your tiled bathroom floor.  “I just wanted someone to talk to,” you pathetically whispered. 

Your sporadic new-teenage hormones made you tear up. You sniffled as the demon lifted his hand from his lap and used it to push back his hair, making some of it stand up every which way.  You sniffled again as you held your burning tears.  The demon only looked at you confused. 

This human child wanted someone to talk to so she summoned a demon? He thought to himself.  You were the embodiment of a pathetic and lonely child. “Just go find some other rugrats to scuffle with.  Don’t drag us demons into it,” his layered voice told you. 

“No one likes me though,” you told him back.  “Everyone thinks I’m mean and I try really hard to fit in, but- they just make fun of me.” The demon held a scoff back from escaping him.  So, you really were a child.  Trying to twist who you are to benefit those around you just for a chance of some sort of connection to another. 

“Is your wish then to have a companion? Someone who will stay at your side and never waver? To fill that lonely void?” The demon pointed to your heart once more.  Your heart that desired- craved- a connection.  You found yourself nodding in agreement.  A smile wormed its way onto the demon’s face.  “Little one, I am a demon of trades.  Do you know what that means?” You shook your head no.  “It means, I’ll give you anything you ask of me, but I must get something back from you in return.” 

You grew nervous. What could a demon want from you?  Rather, what could you possibly even give demon?  You were 13 for Christ's sake (hah)! The demon stared at you and felt something ripple in his chest.  He smirked.  He held his hand out, opening his palm from the finger he pointed and flipped it so his palm faced upward towards the ceiling and the shut-off bathroom light.  

“I’ll give you what you want,” he started- gaining your attention. “What I ask in return is simple.”  You opened your mouth but shut it again.  You just shook your head. 

“But, I still don’t know your name,” you whispered with a small scruff sound to your voice. 

The demon chuckled again.  If what he felt was indeed what he thought and if he were to follow through with this deal, then this deal would be his last.  He’s had his fun with his world and he was bored anyway.  

“My name- to you only, little one- is Jimin.”  His name resonated with you in some way.  You said it, testing it and he felt a jolt in his chest, making him laugh.  You looked at him with a confused, almost judgemental, stare.  “Don’t give me that look,” he jokingly said. 

“What was it you wanted from me, Jimin? You never told me.”

Jimin held up two of his fingers.  “I must first know your name back, don’t you think that’s fair?” He smiled, his black lips curling almost innocently. 

“Oh, um.  Y/n, it’s Y/n.”  You gave it to him easily now.  He nodded.  The name was suited to fit you.  Jimin’s hand was still outstretched to you.  “What’s the second thing then?” 

“Your hand,” he answered simply. “I desire your hand.”  You easily gave it.  Placing your puny hand in his black, clawed palm.  His fingers curled around your hand easily engulfing it.  “I am centuries old, but even I have rules. You’re far too young yet.” He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as a symbol of him flashed over your skin before it faded.  The mark was now gone and he smiled, knowing the spell was still there.  “Our deal is complete, though it will take a long time for it to be carried out.  You’ll have to be a strong girl until then.” 

He gently dropped your hand and stood up from the sink and bent down to your eye level. His dark red eyes looked into your wide, childish ones.  He could only imagine how they could mature and grow over time in your life.  He chuckled as he smiled at you.  

“Your soul now officially belongs to me.  Don’t forget that, little Y/n.” 

You bolted away in bed the next morning when your alarm went off.  6:30 AM and supposed to be getting ready for school.  Had it all been a dream?  You flung your covers off, kicking your legs free and ran to the bathroom.  It was empty and clean of any demon summoning evidence. 

No smeared lipstick on the mirror.  No scented candles or your bowl of items in the sink.  No evidence of you ever meeting the demon named Jimin.  You held and looked at the hand he took and kissed as you went back to your room. Flopping ungracefully on your bed.  

“It was only a dream,” you told yourself dejectedly.  And, like a dream, you gradually forgot all about Jimin.  Never aware of the swishing barbed tail and a pair of red eyes checking on you from time to time. Not noticing even every year on your birthday when those eyes glowed the brightest. 

-XXX-

“Yeah, I know mom.  Yes- I know.  I’m 23 now, I think I can survive if you're not here on my birthday.  Stay home with day and relax for once.  Listen, I just got to work, I’ve gotta go.  Yeah, I love you too.  Bye, mom.” You cut the call that was playing through the speakers of your car as your music automatically resumed playing once the call disconnected. 

You could really blame your mother for fretting over your birthday.  She’d seen 22 of them and on number 23 she wouldn’t be there.  You had moved out after slaving away at 3 jobs to get enough money to get an apartment and finally start college.  Stable enough to get on your feet was all you really wanted to be at this point.  And to take the burden of all your problems off your parents.  They needed their own time at such an age. 

Your miserable days in middle school remained and that negative strength lasted all the way into and even through your high school career.  You still felt bitter, but you didn’t let it bother you anymore.  You engrossed yourself in books and studying, ignoring those around you who tried to get under your skin.  The only reason you turned down a scholarship offered to you was so you could stay at home a few years before taking another step forward. 

Always better to practice the art of adulthood with more experienced adults at your left and right. Besides, going into college immediately after high school was something forced on young people by society.  It wasn't the be-all, end-all.  Waiting wouldn’t hurt you or anyone else for that matter. 

Pulling into your parking space and hopping out of your car, you waltzing into your workplace.  Greeted by the manager of the local coffee shop where you barista at along with her and her son, Seokjin.  He wasn’t much of a coffee maker, but he kills it with his job with all the pastries.  He was 4 years older than you and in his last year of college.  Aiming for a simple bachelor's degree, he just wanted to get a better paying job to support himself and his mother. He and his mom live together and she’s told you before that she will never chase him out.  

Seokjin’s father passed away years ago, and he felt so guilty anytime he had to leave for a long time.  He knew his mother wasn’t alone per se, but he did love her.  So, he spent his free time in the shop or at home with her.  He’s even taken her on some ‘dates’ where he just spoils her completely rotten.  

The close-knit family of 2 absolutely warmed your heart. 

Besides, with a face like Seokjin’s, you never have to worry about business.  IN fact, ever since he started working alongside his mother, there hasn’t been a slow easy-going day.  A blessing for revenue and paychecks, but a curse for your lack of free time. 

There isn’t much different today than usual.  A rush in the morning, a slow break between 10 and noon and then the lunch rush hits.  After that, it’s all hit and miss on when it will pick up.  You were removing your apron and releasing your hair from the too-tight ponytail you created this morning when your manager approached you. 

“You’ve started college, yes?  How is it?” She was like some aunt of yours as she slotting into your life.  Seokjin fitting right in as an annoying cousin role as he walked into the conversation, the counter free of customers until that front counter bell should ring. 

“Yup.  I started last week.  Orientation was a bit boring, and of course, all the syllabi seems a bit unnecessary, but it’s moving along.  We actually start classes tomorrow.”  You smiled as the three of you talked.  Soon, that bell rung before your manager rushed off, taking it before Seokjin could.  He stood around, talking to you a bit longer. 

“I’m in your college,” he told you with a hand on his head.  You knew this already, but he wasn’t someone you expected to really run into.  He was quite popular.  “Hunt me down if you need anything, you’ve got my number.”  He smiled.  

“Mr. Popular running to my beck and call, how charming.”  He moved his hand from your head as he cupped his chin.  

“What can I say, my existence itself is charming.”  You playfully rolled your eyes as you hang your apron up on the hook with your hand above it.  “Seriously, it can be a bit overwhelming and I am pretty smart.  If you have trouble, let me know.  I can even tutor you some time if you need it.”  He told you as you patted his shoulder and nodded.  He worried and you appreciated it.  

When you walked into your apartment that night, something felt wrong.  You didn’t know what, but it just didn’t seem normal?  You looked around and nothing was off and no one was here obviously.  Maybe you were just psyching yourself out before classes tomorrow.  

You plopped yourself on your couch as you closed your eyes, kicked your head back as you breathed.  It was strange as you opened your eyes and looked at your right hand.  It felt odd, a tingling sensation floating over and around it.  Your finger felt numb as you opened and closed your fist.  You just shook your head as you got up and went to take a shower.  Maybe that would make you feel better. 

You jolted awake with a heavy breath and a couch at nearly 3 AM.  You panted as you pushed your bangs back, feeling a small sheen layer of sweat there.  You felt like you just had a nightmare, but you couldn’t remember.  Your chest was tight as you dropped your hand back to your mattress as you sit sat up.  

Something felt tight around your ring finger on your right hand, and with it being too dark, you used your left hand to feel around it.  It felt like a ring was strapped onto your finger?  The ring was thin, metal and flat.  It was warm like you had been wearing it for a long time or someone else had been before you.  You knew it wasn’t yours, you didn’t own many rings.  

Confused, you tried tugging it off, but it wouldn’t budge.  Light panic sat in your chest as you twisted and pulled, trying to get the ring off.  It wasn’t as if it would move and your finger was too thick to take it off, no.  It just wouldn’t move period.  It would twist in place, but it would not move up or down your finger.  Like it was bound on or something. 

You sighed as your tugging game was put on hold from your growing panic. You decided to forget it and you’d deal with it in the morning.  Tugging your blanket up to lay back down and tuck yourself back in, something felt weighed down on your blanket.  Tugging again, you stretched your foot and something was sitting at the foot of your bed, weighing your blanket down.  

You were scared to move.  Slowly grabbing your phone you flipped the flashlight on and looked at the foot of your bed.  You screamed as you scurried up your mattress against the headboard, dropping your phone in your haste.  

Picking it back up you held it as you sat, knees up against your chest as you pushed yourself against eh headboard the best you could.  Sitting as far as you could from that thing at the end of your bed. 

“Who are you?!” You screeched as they rolled their eyes.  Red eyes, grey skin, black shirt and pants with a tail and horns.  Who was this?!  He didn’t even look human, but you were trying to convince yourself that some freaky cosplayer broke into your house.  You did know that there were a group of some weird-ass people who read some internet interactive novel online from some posts you’ve read on social media.  Maybe it was one of them? 

There wasn’t a speck of color on the intruder.  Be it skin or clothes.  His shirt was buttoned and tucked into his pitch pants and he was shoeless, his black feet tucked under his cross legs.  His tail barbed and swaying behind him as he smirked.  His fangs were the only white thing on him.  Even the ‘whites’ of his eyes were black surrounding his red iris. 

“Human memories really are the most unreliable thing in the universe,” he spoke as you screamed again.  He covered his ears as he grimaced. He stood on your mattress, his feet pushing into the covers as he walked over to you and bent his knees to squat to your level.  

He looked into your eyes and something almost sparked in you.  Like a recollection of something you’ve seen before, but can’t place your finger on it.  He watched as your eyes searched is own, now quiet as you tried to remember something.  He smiled as he saw the confusion in your human eyes.  

You moved to look at his tail behind him as you gasped, almost screaming again.  He quickly pushed his hand over your mouth, not wanting to hear another scream that pierced his ears.  “We’ll talk in the morning, little one,” he smirked as he saw your eyes widen as you took in a shaky breath through your nose.  

You shook your head, knowing there was no way you’d be able to sleep with this demon in your home.  Your eyes darted around as he rolled his eyes and covered your mouth just for a moment.  Just long enough to push his black lips onto your pink ones.  You gasped as you closed your eyes, bracing yourself as he was unusually calm. 

You felt your strength leaves you bit by bit as you soon relaxed and your tightly scrunched eyes eased up when you passed out.  Slumping back, the demon held you and straighten your body out before pulling the covers over you and getting off your bed.  Walking around your room and looking at your bags of books and notebooks, going through your style of clothing and all the small amount of jewelry you owned.  

He looked over his shoulder before he smiled and joined you on your bed.  Laying on the free side of it as he watched your sleep.  “You grew up, just like I thought you would,” he whispered. 

-XXX-

You stirred as you took a breath through your nose at what you could assume was early in the morning.  You were still tired, and half tempted to forget it and go back to sleep.  Even keeping your eyes closed, very close to just deciding sleep was worth it.  

You had a distinct feeling something happened, or maybe you had some weird-ass dream last night.  You felt more tired than you should for sleeping as much as you did.  You breathed heavy when you felt a weight on your chest.  The mattress around you was pushing down like something was on the mattress beside you.  

Cracking open your eyes, you took a moment to process the grey figure looking down at you.  Feet perched on either side of your arms, crouching and resting his arms on his bent knees, Jimin stared down at you.  You blinked up to him, processing like a slow running computer before you shot up, shoving him in the chest and flinging him onto the floor. You scrambled out of the opposite side of your bed, throwing your covers onto his head to buy you some time as you run for your bedroom door.  

You screamed when your blanket hit your back in a giant wad.  Knocking you forward, you whipped around.  Jimin was stood up, brushing off his arms and glaring at you.  He looked so different in the daytime as you could see him clearly instead of standing in the shadows. 

“You are the rudest human I’ve ever met.  I can’t believe you threw a fucking blanket on me like I’d get stumped like some stupid dog,” he grumbled as he rubbed his head. “You could’ve damaged my neck, brat.”  You inched towards your door, still wanting to at least leave your room, Jimin just walked over to you, standing in front of your door.  

“I- uh,” you looked at him.  Pointing at him then, your bed, before you groaned and started pacing back and forth.  Jimin watched your pacing as he sighed and sat down, crossing his legs in front of your door.  He pushed his clawed hand into his grey cheek as he looked bored.  You suddenly stopped and looked down at him from across the room.  “You... You’re not a human?”  

Jimin looked at his claws, waving them teasingly waving them around as he then gestured to the spiraled horns on his head.  Not to mention the barbed tail swishing around behind him like it had a mind of his own. “I think the skin color could speak for itself, but if you still have doubts, take a look at the fucking bones out of my forehead and devil’s tail.”  

You stopped and marched over to him.  Dropping to your knees you grabbed his cheeks between your fingers and pulled.  Stretching his skin before letting go.  You moved to quickly open his eyes wide and looked at his red eyes.  You tugged on his hair, flicked his horns and opened his mouth to look at his fangs.  He growled in annoyance as you poked and prodded at him.  “HEY!” He shouted when you tugged on his tail.  

“How are you real?!  I thought you were a dream!” You panicked.  

“Well, that sounds like a personal problem to me,” he smirked as his tail whipped around in a teasing, almost spunky manner.  

“I was 13! What do you even want?” He pointed to your hand, more specifically to the ash grey ring you had completely forgotten about from last night.  You looked at it.  “This?” You showed it, trying to take it off once again.  Groaning and making quite the embarrassing amount of effort to try and remove it.  

“It’s not coming off.  I charmed it so it’s stuck there unless I remove it,” Jimin told you, closing his eyes as if he just told you the most obvious fact in the world.  Like how ladybugs are black and red.  “Have you forgotten what our deal was?”  He asked. 

“I… I wanted a friend back then.  So, you told me to give you my-” you stopped and looked at the ring on your finger, “-hand.”  Jimin cracked open his eyes as he reached over and grabbed your ringed right hand, holding it close to his mouth.  

That same symbol he marked under your skin 10 years ago showing up for a split second, like a pulse and making you gasp.  Kissing your hand again, he looked at you.  “You should always catch wind of double meanings in any and all demon contracts, sweetheart.  Even if you were young, you did agree.” 

“You tricked me! I was a kid!”  Jimin shrugged.  

“It's my job.  You should be honored that you were my final assignment.” 

“Final- what?” 

“Do you know, attachment to clients is a taboo in the demonic society. Any sign of attachment is dealt with immediate termination of the contract.  Though, there are some who decide to indulge in the attachment and decide that one job is more important than any other possible future ones.” 

You sat in front of him as he still held your hand in his own.  Dressed in a black suit with his dull gray skin and completely unnatural- well, everything.  

“I formed my final contract 10 years ago at 3 AM to a silly, lonely little girl.  You, Y/n, became my attachment. We’re officially engaged, sweetheart.” 

-XXX-

“You haven’t been at work for three days because you were too busy getting engaged?!” You covered your ears as you roll your eyes at Seokjin’s initial reaction to your big news.  Three days ago, when Jimin showed up in your apartment, you called your manager if there was any way you could possibly get the next few days off.  You didn’t want to tell her the situation but promised to when you came back in.  She was understanding enough and now, fast forward to now.  Seokjin grabbed your shoulders, shaking you around. “How come you didn’t tell me?! I would’ve filmed it or something, you didn’t even tell me you had a boyfriend!” 

You shook his hands off your shoulders as you straighten out your sleeves he crumpled up on your shoulders. “Look, what I do in my personal life really doesn’t matter, does it?” You told him as he just crossed his arms and pouted. You chuckled at him as his mother came around the corner, wiping her wet hands on her apron.  

“What’s all this fuss about back here?” She questioned with a smile at seeing you and Seokjin back to your antics.  It was almost too calm without you here for him to pick on.  

“Oh, I was telling Seokjin here about why I had been gone, ma’am,” you told her with a smile.  You then thought for a moment, she didn’t actually know yet.  “I actually got engaged,” you told her with a nervous laugh and rubbing the back of your head.  

In full honesty, after sitting down and talking it all out with the demon who is now your betrothed, even if you didn’t want to get married to him you had no choice.  A contract with a demon is eternal binding and you would have to carry out your end of the bargain.  As such, just as Jimin promised you all those years ago, you wouldn’t have to worry about every being lonely. So, in turn, you were his now.  

He explained everything to you.  He told you back when you made that contract, that when he told you he ‘wanted your hand’ he was asking for your hand in marriage.  He told you he purposely said it like that so your stupid teenage self wouldn’t actually understand the double meaning.  He explained how he watched you grow up and was there on every birthday, but you never saw him.  

It actually almost embarrassed you how he had been there the whole time.  He even admitted to being the tiniest bit jealous of all the boyfriends and girlfriends you’ve been in a relationship with before.  He pouted when he brought up the fact that one past boyfriend was an obvious scumbucket of a man and claimed your ‘taste in human men was severely lacking’.  He earned a kick in his shin for that one. 

Jimin truly acted like he was attracted to you in all honesty.  It’s only been three days, but he was as chivalrous as a proper gentleman.  Not something one would expect from such a terrifying demon who literally hides in the corner when it’s too bright in the room at 6 in the morning.  He isn’t a fan of morning sunlight, too bright and frankly from his whole appearance, it wasn’t shocking to learn this.  

And because of his appearance, you had a little pitch fit before you left for work.  Absolutely forbidding him from leaving the apartment because if anyone saw him, they’d probably call the cops or shoot him. Horns, bare feet, grey and black skin, he would stand out like a sore thumb.  

Seokjin’s mother gasped as he grabbed your hands, shaking them up and down as she got as giddy as a teenager at the young romance blossoming from your engagement.  

“That’s absolutely lovely, sweetpea!”  He chuckled as she placed her worn, old hand on her cheek.  Her wedding ring from her late husband still in prime condition as she still did love him so much.  She was alright staying widowed; and with Seokjin, she didn’t seek another romance in her age because she wasn’t lonely.  “I remember when my husband proposed to me.  He had this elaborate plan all set up in the park we met at, but it rained right in the middle of it!  It was clumsy, but so was he,” you smiled as she fawned over the memories of her youth. 

She held your hand and looked at your grey ring place firmly on your finger.  “It is quite the unique ring for a proposal,” she chuckled.  She didn’t seem to dislike it though.  In most people’s eyes, if you told them this grey and the simplistic metallic ring was your engagement ring, they’d probably start to berate Jimin for not ‘buying’ a more glamorous ring.  However, when Jimin told you that this was the ring he’s had his entire demonic life and how much it meant to him, you felt almost proud that he gave it up for you. 

Jimin was crafty, already charming his way into your heart after just a few days.  You found it unfair because you weren’t all that desirable in your own eyes, yet here he was giving up life long possessions and sticking them on you and treating you like a legitimate fiancee. 

“You’ll have to let us meet him. You’re practically family, sweetie!”  You smiled, nervously laughing as you nodded.  You scratched your cheek as you thought to yourself about how you would keep Jimin under house arrest for the rest of your life.  “Does your mother know?  I’m sure she’s just thrilled her little daughter is growing up!” 

“Yeah, she knows.  She nearly blew a gasket when I told her.  I thought she was going to march all the way down here to interview him, but she just spoke to him over the phone and all was good,” you told your manager.  Keeping the fact that the whole ordeal took nearly 3 hours to yourself. “She’s happy for me in the long run,” you said as you were also relieved of that fact.  

Your parents knew that you didn’t have people beside you growing up, so hearing you’re engaged and set to marry at some point when you just started college was a shock.  But, they seemed to support you in your path you’re setting and you couldn’t be more thankful. 

“He’s not a shy fellow, is he?” You shook your head.  

“Oh, not at all.  In fact, he’s very outgoing and is always trying to find a way to get out of the house,” you weren’t lying.  He’s been cooped up in that house of yours for three days, all he complains about if wanting to go out. You won’t even let him out at night where he can hide in the shadows without being seen. 

“Does Mr. Right have a name, or what?” Seokjin cut in with crossed arms and a furrowed brow.  “If I don’t get a face and a name within the next 48 hours, I will be forced to confine you here until he shows himself.”  You and his mother looked at him as his face gave away that he was almost dead serious. 

“What are you? My older brother?  Sorry, but I’m an only child,” you told him as he rolled his eyes.  “His name is Jimin,” you told him.  

“Surname?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Of course it matters, woman!” In truth, you weren’t sure if Jimin even had a surname.  He was a demon, and he mentioned how many names he actually goes by.  So, you decided to skim around the question and finally dropped the topic altogether when it was opening time.  

Seokjin placed his two fingers in front of his eyes and proceeded to whip them towards you in a typical  ‘I’ll be watching’ fashion.  Making you shaking your head as you tied on your apron with the smallest smile on your face.  Maybe all those years of solitude were worth it in the end after all. 

-XXX-

“Jimin, you better still be in this apartment or else I’m gonna tie your tail into knots!” 

“So much as touch my tail and I will bite you. Don’t test me!” You heard him scream back at you as you smiled.  Shutting the door behind you and heeling off your shoes, you pulled your jacket off and walked into your living room where you tossed it onto the back of the couch.  

Jimin sat in a chair, reading one of your books as his tail whipped around behind him and curled inwards when he saw you.  The threat of you even touching it initially making him wince. 

“Jimin, are you reading a cookbook?” He shut the book and looked at the front, seeing some sort of dish covering the front of it with the bold letters of ‘COOKBOOK’ staring at him.  He looked back at you and nodded.  “Why?” 

“Because, since we’re going to be married and I’m living with you, I do need to learn how to live as a human.” That honestly surprised you. “Why is that so shocking to you?”  You shook your head, sitting on the couch.  Seeing him take this so seriously still throws you off and a part of you almost thought that when it actually happens, he’d rip your soul out or something.  He chuckles at you. “Don’t you worry, dear.  I won’t eat your heart or anything when we wed.” 

Dismissing his stupid words he knew you were suspecting, you started a new topic.  “My coworker and boss seemed glad that I was engaged.” 

“You told them?” He asked and you nodded. 

“Yeah, of course.  I had to, I’d been gone for three days.  I couldn’t just lie to them.” Jimin arched his brows.  “Okay, I could but it wouldn’t feel right.  They’re good people, so I wouldn’t.” There was a pause for a moment when you continued.  “They want to meet you actually.”

“I’m sure a lot of people do.  Your mother was hell-bent on a phone call, I’m half shocked she didn’t bust her way through the phone.” You sighed.  “I want to clarify something,” he said as you looked at him.  “If I didn’t look like this-” he gestured to his grey and clawed self, “- I could go out.  I could meet people you work with and your parents, right?” 

“Ideally, yes.  You can’t just walk outside looking like that.  You’d probably get killed or kidnapped and taken into the government for dissection or something.” He rolled his eyes.  “Why?” 

“No reason, just curious,” you shrugged it off as the rest of the day rolled around.  The next morning, you were up late and rushing to leave your apartment to get to class on time.  Driving over the speed limit and tapping in rage on your wheel when stupidly slow drivers got in front of you. You parked in a space that was far too far away from the door and ran.  Running into Seokjin somehow on the way there.  

He only laughed at you as he stuffed a donut hole in your mouth that you nearly choked on as you continued your sprint down the halls and soon slid into a seat in your university room.  The room was set up like a stadium, semi-circular and stairstep sitting arrangement. You phone that sits on your desk lit up with a silent message.  

You had gone out and got Jimin a phone so that he can at least have some form of communication with you. He was a demon, but he already acted human enough.  He was a quick learner and if he did look the part, one wouldn’t even think he was a demon at all.  Of course, even if you voiced to the whole campus your fiancee was a demon, no one would believe you.  

[Jimin] When do you get out of class today?

[You] Does it matter? 

[Jimin] Of course it does.  I want to show you something when you’re free today.

[You] Uh, alright?  I should be done around 3, so long as no lectures run long.

[Jimin] You got it.  I’ll see you at 3 in front of your campus then.

You stared at your phone’s screen.  Rereading what he said before your thumbs ran rapidly across your screen.  If texting was a sport, you were sure you probably would’ve just earned the gold medal. 

[You] You’ll what?!

[You] Jimin!  Answer me!!!  

[You] HEY.  JIMIN I SWEAR TO GOD

[Jimin] Don’t offend me

You rolled your eyes at his comment back.  Swearing to God in the case of a demon.  He always smacked your hand lightly when you said that to him, saying that swearing to something he didn’t believe in or rather didn’t like was just mean. It made sense since he was a child of Satan or something. 

Your day ticked by as slow as high-class torture.  Time was picking at your fingernails as you tapped your foot and scribbled notes in such a frenzied fashion you’d probably end up with a magnifying glass later trying to decipher your words like some archeologist on a dig. 

When your final lecture let out it was nearly a quarter past 3 in the afternoon.  You scrambled to shove your books and notes into your bag as you picked up the strap and slung it on your shoulder, whacking it into your back as you wince.  Taking off down the halls and skipping steps, half scared of tripping and tumbling to your doom down them. 

You sped past staff and students, a few of them telling you to watch what you're doing or to stop running completely, but you just waved in apology and continued your pace. Making it outside, you slumped against the flagpole by the main entrance doors as you huffed out of breath.  The sun was warm on the skin of your legs that were revealed because of your shorts.  Your jacket was all disheveled as your shirt that was once tucked was now no longer so. Your shoelaces had even come undone in your plight of speed to get outside. 

Looking around, you didn’t see a single grey demon walking around your front campus courtyard.  Sighing, you dropped your bag onto the ground with a huff and knelt to re-tie your shoe.  If you left campus fast enough, maybe Jimin wouldn’t come and cause a scene. 

You were unaware of the low murmur of small gossip circles on campus and leaving the building.  You were also unaware of the fact that fact of the murmur was coming towards you with his hand shoved into his pockets.  

Making it in front of you, you saw a shadow at your feet and beside you as you looked up.  The sun was too bright and blocked out the sight of who it was standing in front of you.  You squinted as the person- a man- chuckled and bent his knees to be eye level with you.  

You looked at him and he looked at you as he smiled.  Looking into his eyes, a deep brown, you narrowed your eyes in concentration.  You turned your head slowly, still keeping your eyes on him, as you opened your mouth in disbelief.  

“Excuse me, but um- you wouldn’t have to be…” you pointed at him as he chuckled again.  He looked to his left and right before he looked back into your eyes and you saw his brown flash to a black and red before reverting back.  You gasped.  This human man was- “Jimin?!” You screeched.  

Jimin laughed as he fell forward on you, knocking you onto your ass on the concrete that warmed your cheeks from the afternoon sunlight.  He continued to laugh and spill out his fits of giggles from his gut as he held your arms and put his forehead on your shoulder.  

Jimin looked human.  Lightly tanned skin, brown waved hair and brown eyes.  A pair of jeans with a white shirt and jean jacket that matched his pants.  His right ear had a long dangling earring pierced through it as his left had a small hoop.  His shoes were flat and black.  He had no horns, no fangs, no claws or tail.  His skin wasn’t grey and his hands weren’t black as coal.  He looked and sounded 100% human. 

“You’re reaction was so worth it!” He laughed as he finally composed himself.  You took notice of the murmur now, as it had slightly increased from small groups to larger cliques wondering what was happening.  Normally, this was dismissed by the campus students as another couple being overly touchy, but of course, you just couldn’t fly under the radar this one time. 

You lightly pushed Jimin up and off your shoulder as you looked around his face.  He was handsome as a human too.  Just as handsome as he is as a demon.  The sun highlighted and added to the persona he put on and made your face the slightest tint of red. Jimin’s playful smirk was replaced with a wide smile as he saw you blush. 

“W-when did you?” You just pointed at the whole of him. He grabbed your hand as he stood, pulling you up with him and straightening out your jacket for you.  Tugging on the ends and straightening out the shoulders.  He would’ve tucked your shirt in if you hadn’t of slapped his hands away from your stomach. 

“Ticklish are we?” He teased. 

“Just answer my question!” You whined.  He pinched at your cheek, cooing as you were tempted to pick your bag off the ground and swing it at him like a pro baseballer aiming for a home run. 

“I changed this morning.  It’s not permanent though.  I can change back whenever I want to.  If I look like this, I’m okay to go outside, right?” 

“I guess… I can’t argue with that?  I said not as a demon- but as a human, I can’t say no to you, can I.” He smiled as he bent down and grabbed your bag. “Ah, give me that, it’s got all my books in it.”  You reached for it as he just held it away from you, putting a hand on your stomach to keep you away from it.  “Jimin!” You whined again. 

“Let my first act as a human gentleman be carrying my fiance’s bag home, yeah?” You pouted as you crossed your arms.  

“Y/n!” You heard someone behind you call for you as you almost panicked at seeing Seokjin strutting towards you.  His bag on his hip and phone in his hand, headphones coiled around it, ready to be unwound and listened to. Jimin recognized him as you took the liberty of showing him photos of Seokjin, his mother and your parents to him.  He walked up to you and Jimin.  “I saw you running out of your class like a maniac, what was that about?” 

“Oh, well you see I was just…” you looked around for an excuse before you looked at Jimin.  “I was rushing out to meet my escort home!” You gestured to Jimin.  Seokjin looked down at him.  He stood taller than Jimin.  “Seokjin, you wanted to meet him, right?  My fiance?”  Seokjin looked at you, mouth open in awe as he looked back at Jimin. 

“This is your fiance?!” He accused, almost too loudly as you could see some people whispering and gasping that the gorgeous man in front of you was engaged to you of all people.  You shushed him. 

“Shut up!  Let’s go somewhere else and talk, Jesus.”  The three of you ended up at some burger joint not far from campus to talk.  Being greeted by the staff, you smiled and waved as you took the two men in tow to a booth.  Jimin slid in with you as he sat closer than you expected him to, your thigh touching his as Seokjin sat across the table. 

You three ordered something to drink and just a basket of fries to munch on.  Jimin didn’t exactly have money and you were kinda glad that Seokjin said he’d foot the bill of the fries and drinks.  You didn’t want to explain that Jimin was unemployed because he was a demon. 

“So, you’re Y/n’s guy?” Jimin nodded, reaching across the table for a handshake.  Seokjin meeting him in a firm greeting. 

“I’m Park Jimin, it’s a pleasure.’ You looked at him.  Park?  Did he decide that was going to be his surname?  It was popular, so you didn’t see the harm in his choice.  “You’re Seokjin, right? Y/n works with you and your mother.”  

Seokjin purses his lips in an impressive manner.  “You know me?” 

“Of course!  Y/n had talked about you and your mother quite a lot in the time I’ve known her.  She really enjoys working with you both.”  You thanked the staff member who placed your drinks and a basket of fries on the booth table as the two men talked back and forth.  You sipped at your drink, straw between your lips as you were actually impressed Jimin held such a casual conversation.  

You’ve been stressing over so much on what to do with Jimin when he was capable of dealing with all of it on his own.  He seemed to genuinely be trying to earn Seokjin’s favor for something.  Talking and acting so that Seokjin wouldn’t disapprove of him for some reason.  

He was acting so human.  Sweet and caring and kind.  He laughed at Seokjin’s stupid jokes you scoffed at and took interest in his favorite kind of pastries.  What to eat and where to eat it and told him about how he attended the same college as you and was set to graduate this year. 

Seokjin excused himself for a moment to go to the bathroom when Jimin sat back in his booth and tossed half a fry into his mouth. 

“Human food is actually way better than I remember it being,” he said as he ate the second half of the fry.  

“Jimin?” He looked at you when you called him.  “You- are you enjoying yourself?” You were curious is that smile on his face was real or if it was all an act because he was a demon contracted to marry you.  He smiled softly as he grabbed your hand, setting it on his lap. 

“I told you that I was attached to you, do you remember?” You nodded.  He told you that when he first showed up.  “It’s not easy for something like that to occur for my species. I won’t put up a facade around you, so don’t worry, okay?” You lowered your eyes as you nodded.  He smiled, his teeth showing as his cheeks pushed up his eyes.  He moved to kiss your cheek as you pushed on his shoulder for the sudden act of affection.  He laughed at you as he tried kissing your other cheek, you erupting into a fit of laughter at him. 

Seokjin stood behind the booth against the wall, watching the two of you from a distance.  He smiled seeing you happy and how Jimin was a good guy after all.  Open and kind like you said.  He nodded to himself. 

“I guess I can approve of him,” he said to himself as he made his way back to the booth. Sliding in and fake gagging at the PDA of the young couple.  

-XXX-

It was two days later when your first workday since Seokjin met Jimin came.  Jimin was stubbornly driving you to work (where he learned to drive you didn’t know).  He even had a license that was legitimate and he wouldn’t tell you at all how he got it.  Part of you almost believed he lived as a human the past year just to get accustomed to this kind of lifestyle.  When you told him that, he looked at you like you uncovered some big secret.  Of course, there was no way that was right… right?

“So, why are you driving me to work again?” You asked him as your purse sat in your lap as you were decked in your black slacks, white shirt, and non-slip shoes.  Boring work attire. While he sat in black jeans, heeled boots to boost his height (he was almost self-conscious of it) and a white shirt with a yellow flannel over it.  Looking rudely attractive. 

“I met Seokjin, now I want to meet your boss!” He cheered as he pulled into the turn lane, stopping before getting the all-clear from those trust traffic lights to proceed onwards.  “Besides, dropping you off means I get to pick you up and isn’t that just a husbandly thing to do?” 

“You’re not my husband?” 

“Not yet.  Which reminds me, I guess we need to actually plan a wedding?” 

“Yeah, with what money,” you scoffed.  

“Well, how about a courthouse wedding?  It’s way cheaper and way simpler.  Just dress in your Sunday best, show up with family and close friends only.  Get preached to, sign a paper, take some pictures and we walk out husband and wife,” he suggested with a small smile.  

Honestly speaking, a courthouse wedding didn’t sound too awful.  You wouldn’t need to get completely gussied up if you didn’t want to and it wouldn’t be some entire day deal.  A few hours and it would be done.  Plus it would be a life-saving act for your funds.  

“You don’t need to think about it right now,” Jimin interrupted your thoughts.  He reached across the middle console and grabbed your hand that rested on your bag.  He bounced it up and down in his palm as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.  “I’m not going anywhere, so take your time to think it over for yourself.  Be it for 3 months or 3 years, I’ll always be here.”  You nodded at him, missing the side look he gave you when your cheeks start glowing again. “Cute.” 

Your boss cried in joy as you entered the still unopened cafe with Jimin in tow, his hands in yours.  You watched her bounce around the counter and prance up to you both as Seokjin rounded the corner, a ziplock bag of frozen strawberries in his hand that was due to dethaw in some hot water in the back.  

“Oh, lover boy’s here,” he announced.  Jimin bowed to your boss as he introduced himself with a smile.  You told her that Jimin was the man who proposed to you and was the man you were soon going to marry.  

“My word, he’s stunning!  You’re a lucky woman, Y/n.”  You laughed at her excitement as Jimin disagreed. 

“No way! Y/n is way out of my league. If anything I'm the lucky one here!” He exclaimed and it sounded like he meant it.  That this wasn't all just a contracted marriage between human and demon. “I’m just happy I met her in the first place, now I get to marry her.  I’m definitely the luckiest.” He, finalized, your boss swooning at him as her own cheeks reddened. 

“You’re so fond.  I do hope you both make each other happy.”  Jimin nodded as he checked the watch on his wrist.  He nudged you lightly, gesturing to the time.  You squeaked as you unconsciously pecked him on the cheek and rushed behind the counter and into the back to clock in and strap on your apron.  Jimin chuckled at you as your boss stood around longer.  “Y/n is such a sweetheart,” she cooed.  

“Yes, she is,” Jimin agreed.  “She’s gone through a lot over her life, but I’m truly grateful that she somehow ended up at my side.” He bent down to get closer to the older woman and smiled at her, you on his brain.  “I’m going to make her happy for sure! But, I don’t actually know her favorite kind of pastry.  You don’t happen to know, do you?” 

“I do!  If you offer her one of my son’s cream puffs, she’s absolute putty in your hands' young man.” Jimin nodded.  

“Thank you very much!” He cheered.  He knew a lot about you, but not everything.  He desired to learn everything he could.  When he learned another fact about you or saw you smile or fumble around in a spaz, he could feel that attachment in his chest tighten.  The sensation was nameless and addicting.

-XXX-

It’s been 4 months since Jimin showed up declaring himself as your betrothed. Since then, he somehow managed to get a job as a receptionist at a small little spa not too far downtown.  With his looks as well as his sweet human personality, he was a catch.  You wondered how he ever qualified for any jobs at all with him being a demon prior to everything.  He flat out told you he lied and created fake documents of education and even past experience that you were 100% sure he didn’t have. 

You had to admit that you admired his studious attitude when it came down to his work though.  His ethic and willingness to learn and be trained so diligently was shocking for a demon.  He read on spa therapies from skincare to massages to manicures and pedicures.  From fact to fiction and when it came time to work on his own without a trainer, he did incredibly well.  

As a demon, he seemed to genuinely enjoy his work.  Plus, he often offers you shoulder massages when you're working it double-time between work and school.  You were probably the most grateful for that.  

His kindness continued to baffle you.  Even after all these months, the way he smiled and joked and actually seemed to care about the world around you didn’t make him seem like a demon at all.  You would often forget he wasn’t human, his origins slipping your mindscape until he would return to his grey-skinned, horned and clawed self. You remember him asking you if his real appearance ever bothered you. 

“Hey, Y/n?” Jimin had just walked into the apartment from work as you sat cross-legged on the floor in front of your coffee table in the living room.  Textbooks open and bookmarked, notebooks scribbled in and small doodles taking up space in any open corner when your concentration drifted off. You hummed at him as he moved to sit on the couch behind your back.  “You don’t mind if I look like a demon when I’m inside, do you?” 

You stopped your notes as you put your pencil down in the fold of the pages and turned at your hips to look at him behind you. 

“Do I mind if you look like a demon?”  He nodded.  “Jimin why would you care if I care if you look like that?” He was still in his human appearance as he looked almost timid.  Not making eye contact and looking worried like you would reject him if he looked devilish. 

“I just- I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”  Jimin is by far the most respectable demon you’ve ever met (even though he’s the only demon you’ve ever met). You rolled your eyes as you turned back to our notes, Jimin ready to complain when you finally answered him. 

“There’s no reason to be uncomfortable around you, human or demon.  It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you told him. “And it’s not like we’re on the ground floor, no one will see you from outside, just don’t go out on the balcony like that.” You looked outside the two tall, sliding glass doors to your small balcony on the 3rd floor.  “Besides, you’re pretty charming as a demon,” you tacked on.  You were scribbling more notes down, looking back and forth between your textbook and notes to make sure you were writing in the lines in legible writing.  

You felt Jimin moving behind you as he soon moved to slide off the couch to sit beside you.  He put his head on the table, looking at you with his grey skin and small spiraled horns pointing outwards away from his forehead. He smiled up at you as you moved to look down at him, his fangs as white as ever. 

“So, I’m charming?” His tail whipped around behind him as you just scoffed with a smile and went back to work.  He quickly sat up. “I learned this really cool massage trick at work, wanna see!” He offered as you stopped him from reaching out to touch you at all.  

“You will not attempt to massage anything with those hands. Last time you did, your stupid claws cut up my shoulders!”  

“I’ll shorten them then!” 

“What’s so funny?” Jimin, who sat across the middle console from you, asked.  You both were currently sat in your car, suitcases packed for the weekend on your way to your parent’s house.  After 4 months, they grew antsy on now actually meeting Jimin.  Despite talking to him on the phone or seeing him when you would video call your mother, an in-person meeting was well overdue. Jimin didn’t seem to mind, you were a bit worried though.  

You still weren’t sure how committed Jimin was in his role that 13-year-old you forced him in.  He’s easy to be with and he acts like the ever-charming fiance that he was, but that was all that you thought it was.  Him filling out his job and that made you nervous as you both got closer and closer to your destination.  Making your hands tighten on the steering wheel as you drove the roads most familiar to you. 

Jimin could smell your anxiety from a mile away, much less 2 feet apart in a confined space like your small car.  If you weren’t pressing your toe on the gas, he was sure you’d be bouncing your leg in anxiousness.  A habit he picked up on you did.  Instead, he watched your tighten and loosen just to retighten your hands around the steering wheel.  

He felt like he wasn’t doing enough.  He’s been beside you for 4 months and you still seemed distant in some ways.  You still didn’t feel comfortable enough for him to sleep next to you, so he was sleeping every night on your couch (at least it pulls out into a bed). He heard that you sometimes still had a choked throat each time you had to explain that he was engaged to you.  And you hadn’t brought up the topic of a wedding since the one day he talked to you about it when he took you to work for the first time. 

There was a lot of hesitation in your head and body it made him think he made possibly be doing something wrong. He knew that you were stuck in the thought that he was just working.  You were a job and that’s what you keep telling yourself, convincing yourself that you really didn’t matter to Jimin in the long run.  Despite him telling you time and time again that you were an attachment that was absolutely forbidden to him and his kind, you just couldn’t bring yourself to accept that.  

You, plain simple and uninteresting you.  You who waited two years for college and grew up alone.  You who had only started living alone in your 23rd year.  You who was so lonely as a child you summoned a demon just for someone to talk to and ended up bringing him into your small circle of loneliness.  

You were an anchor holding Jimin in place and you thought of that as a burden.  While that anchor that is you was something so important to Jimin.  He just had to figure out how to drill it into your head that you were a blessing to him.  Lucifer be damned, if you were an angel, he’d cut off his own horns and turn his back on his kind to be with you. 

He watched as you turned the car, hands overlapping on the wheel.  Bodies jostling on the road as the highway you drove on turned into the gravel of a backroad.  

“They're pretty far from town, a lot of open areas and not too much to do,” you started, talking a bit louder over the crunching and grumbling tires of your car going over the rock and gravel.  “But, we have a lot of land and a really neat garden and greenhouse my mom really likes to take care of.  I’m sure we can find something to do,” you told him.  

Jimin nodded.  He wasn’t worried.  If he was going to win you over, he’d have to start with the two who raised you. Winning your parents would be easy.  He had a feeling from the many conversations he had with your mother, that she wouldn’t be a hard obstacle.  Your father seemed a bit more skeptic. He had every reason to be, Jimin was a demon after all. 

“A city detox is good on a demon.  The fresh air so much better than breathing in all that city smog and smoke.  Plus, the country smells better.”  

“Yeah,” you laughed, “you have a point.”  The rest of the trip passed and soon you were pulling into your parent’s driveway, your mother who sat on the front porch, reading a book on the bench swing.  Setting it down, pages open and spine up, she stood as you turned off the car and waved to her from your windshield.

You couldn’t hear her, but she looked over her shoulder, shouting into the house that was behind her.  Presumably shouting to your father that you and your new fiance had finally arrived.  Jimin noticed you take your time unbuckling and working your way out of your car.  Getting out after you, he watched your mother descend the few steps of the old townhouse.  She was quick to hug you, embrace you returned with a smile. 

Jimin had briefly seen your mother before.  Whether it be from his routinely watches as a demon as you grew older, or through the crappy quality of your mother’s phone during a Skype call.  She was a familiar face nonetheless.  Just as he saw her, she was soon greeting him and waving him over from across the car. 

“Jimin, darling!”  She greeted enthusiastically.  Swooping the man into a hug he wasn’t expecting.  Patting her back lightly, she pulled away.  He truly wasn’t used to any physical contact aside from you. You were the only human he allowed to even come near him in so long.  Your mother examined jimin.  Tilting his chin up and down, walking around him and humming.  She was literally sizing him up and looking at every inch of him (not that there’s many). 

“Mom! Don’t be rude to my fiance!”  You screeched as she circled him like a hawk. You slapped your palm to your face when she turned to you with a small older woman giggle and a hearty thumbs up.  Like she approved of the demon you were going to wed.  Jimin laughed at both of your antics. 

“Let’s not dilly-dally.  Everyone inside, come on.”  Your mother rushed you both up to the steps, claiming to get your bags out of the trunk later on.  When Jimin entered, he found out how much the inside of your home looked so different in the daytime. The difference between your lit halls and the halls he knew when he visited at the dead of night was shocking to him. Then again, even as a demon, he never went and wandered around your house.  More like quick peeks here and there. 

You watched from the corner of your eyes at Jimin’s reaction to being in your home of 22 years in his human appearance.  He’s only ever been here as a demon.  It was obvious your mother had tidied up the best a mother could.  Probably also employing the help of your father for some tasks that were a bit more herculean.  The fact that the sofa had been moved in the living room was a dead give away for that.  

As awkward as the first fiance and parent meeting should be, it wasn’t at all.  Jimin slatted right in, sitting next to you on the couch.  When spoken to he’d listen well and managed to keep eye contact with your father.  Something he didn’t realize human men had problems with when meeting their significant other’s parents. He truly seemed engaged in all conversation and was all smiles and energy as he sat beside you.  His hand occasionally find yours to hold behind the cushion you held on your lap. 

The night, Jimin sat in the middle of your bed, legs crossed as you were in the bathroom changing.  Despite the time he’s seen your change (once he was sitting on the sink when you got out of the shower and got a look at the goods before you threw a hairdryer at him), you still grew embarrassed about changing with him boring holes into your back. 

He had relaxed his body.  His horns poking out of his head as his tail lay on the mattress.  His skin greyed out and claws extended.  When you entered the room, you let out a small shriek and slammed the door behind you, locking it.  You stomped across the room, pointing into his face. 

“You can’t just change back into a demon here!” Jimin nearly went cross eyes at your finger at his nose. 

“Why not?” He innocently asked, but the sly grin on his face gave away his teasing undertone.  You stood back up, arms crossed.  You huffed.  “Oh please, if anyone besides you came in, I’d just hide and let your parents believe I took a shower with you.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” 

“No, it’s not. Couples shower all the time together.” He cupped his chin in his palm as he watched your face flush.  Taking a shower with Jimin was completely out of the question.  For one, he’s a demon! Regardless of if you were going to end up with him as your husband or not, he was completely different and who knows what he’s packing.  His anatomy is obviously way different than yours, or another mans given his horns and tail.  

You shake your head, trying to disperse the thought of even beginning to imagine what or what isn’t hidden below his belt.  Jimin stood as you internally panicked and he hooked his finger under your chin, making your concentration break and force your attention on him. 

“It’s been 4 months, love,” he started.  “Yet, I’m still capable of making your blush like the dawn.” His fang peeked out of hips dark lips as he pulled them back into a grin.  His eyes lit up a lighter shade of red as the lights flicked out.  You looked up to the bowl covered ceiling light before Jimin pulled your eyes back to him.  “I’d appreciate it if you kept your eyes focused on me,” he bit.  

“Jimin?” He seemed more possessive than usual.  He was always someone who wanted attention, but at the moment he seemed more demanding for attention than usual.  He moved to bite onto the side of your cheek as you squeaked.  He let it go before he licked it.  

“I used up a lot of energy staying human all day.  I need to recharge.”  Jimin spent the next half hour lavishing you in kisses and holding you.  He’s done this before- becoming exhausted is something a demon needs treatment for when in the human realm. Whether it be human food, drink or affection.  Jimin would cling to you when it happened, unable to revert to his human form.  Jimin as his demon self would bask in your warmth until he grew better.  It was alright because his cold body kept your burning one in check throughout the whole process. 

-XXX-

After the weekend trip to your parents, you were relieved when both your mother and father decided not to veto Jimin- since they really couldn’t because of the contract.  Accepting him and your decision to marry him your mother was hot on the ‘when is the marriage’ bandwagon. 

Weeks later, Jimin had woken up before you had.  It was early in the morning as you slammed the top of your alarm clock to shut off the first- of many- signs to get up and ready for school. You had grown used to feeling the dip in your bed that Jimin claimed or at the very least having him looping his leg around yours. But, this morning it was empty.  

Sitting up, the sky had turned grey. Not yet allowing the colors of dawn to breach the black night sky.  Jimin not being seen by you in the bedroom, you rubbed your eyes before you crawled out of bed.  Wrapping your blanket around your shoulders as you left your room.  

He wasn’t in the bathroom- he was fond of early morning baths.  Not the kitchen and his shoes were still here so he hadn’t left.  You found him standing in front of the balcony window, just staring outside.  His barbed tail was hung low and his body seemed rigid as he stood like he was on edge.  Moving to his side, you saw him looking outside like he was looking at something he deemed dangerous. He hadn’t even realized you were beside him.  Looking at his hand, his claws were open and his fingers were tense like he was ready to tear through something. 

“Jimin?” You whispered as he blinked and swiveled to look down at you.  He saw your brow etched down and your small hands peeking out from under the blanket you held over your shoulders. “Are you alright?” You asked slowly as to not provoke anything out of him. 

“It’s nothing,” he told you before he looked back outside.  “I hope.” 

When you left for school, he was constantly texting you every half hour or sooner.  He was asking random questions, asking how you were- anything to get a conversation started.  You thought maybe he was feeling some sort of weird demon-y way; maybe they start to miss their attachments after a certain period of time.  You weren’t sure and every time you asked him about it, it brushed it off to changed the topic. 

Jimin called you the moment you told him you had left class and were on the way to work a swing shift at work.  Seokjin was busy studying for tests, so you had to pick up his slack; much to Jimin’s dismay. He stayed on the phone with you the entire ride to the cafe and refused to hang up until you had clocked on- even saying a quick hello to your boss before he hung up. 

Jimin was on edge all night.  He knew you were working, that you were busy but he couldn’t sit still.  Something he felt earlier that morning made his skin crawl.  A dark presence hung in the air in the city he had been living in as a human and he didn’t like how familiar it was.  

He beat himself up over not being able to convince you to stay in today.  Skipping one day of school wouldn’t be so hard to convince you of, but you would’ve fought him tooth and nail about work.  He knew that you were going in today no matter what, but now it was reaching nearly 10 PM and he was biting his nails. 

Being so tense that he couldn’t hold his human form and was stalking around the apartment fully demon.  Black and grey robe fluttering at his brisk steps back and forth, bare feet and black hands curling and uncurling.  His barbed tail whipped like a nail in annoyance as his fangs gnawed on his lips. 

He verbally hissed, his eyes glowing and narrowing in the dark apartment (he hadn’t turned the lights on since sunset).  He blended in with the dark and shadowed home of his when he heard rattled from the front door.  He moved to jump into the air, sticking to the top part of the wall above the front door.  Tucking his legs in to hide in the corner.  He snarled at the scent on the other side that was certainly not yours. Whoever was on the other side of that door, they weren’t some household company.  The scent he caught of them was too bloody. 

When the door unlatched, the clicking of the lock opening, Jimin bared his teeth.  When the door was opened and someone stepped inside, Jimin pushed from the ceiling’s corner and swung at the stranger.  Claws ready to tear into their skin, but even as fast as Jimin was- this person had moved just in time to avoid him.  Jimin skidded onto the floor, knees bent as he sat like a beast on attack mode.  

The door shut behind the intruder as Jimin used the darkness to stay hidden.  Only his eyes that burned red in the darkness could give him away.  Even so, they were so narrow in defense that seeing them would be difficult.  His ears twitched when he felt something come towards him, jumping back he heard a crash in front of him- where he was just sat.  

Whatever was in here was just like him- not human.  He looked to his left, his right and above him.  Nothing seemed off in the shadows.  Whoever was with him was no longer in front of him either.  He gasped lightly when he felt something directly behind him.  Finding himself in a back and forth scrap with something he couldn’t see became bothersome. 

He swung and hissed at what could only be another demon in his home.  Tail flicking, sending small thorns around him as a defense as he kept jumping from ceiling to floor to wall to avoid whatever was attacking him.  It came to a standstill when the attacker flicked the lights on.  Jimin flinched before he was jumping onto the coffee table away from a direct kick that could have knocked him right on his ass if he hadn’t moved fast enough. 

The apartment was a mess.  Cracks and scratch marks on the floors and tears in the living room furniture.  Curtains from the balcony windows were torn and hanging on just barely to their rods. Jimin hissed, his hair seemed to stand on end as he stared at the attacker in front of him.  Stood in a black cloak, hood pulled up and concealing their entire face.  

The human colored tone of his skin that showed in his hand that was freely sticking out from the sleeve of the robe gave away that whatever demon he was dealing with wasn’t so powerful they could shift properly yet.  Why would a demon who attacked another demon have human skin on, unless they couldn’t revert due to power struggles? 

Jimin remained sat on the table, legs up and ready to move if the need arose as the hooded demon in front of him remained still.  It was as if there were two statues in your living room and not too demons.  Finally, the hooded attacker moved to reach into his cloak, Jimin baring his teeth at the movement.  His face fell for a moment, his mouth opening with a drawn-out gasp when the hooded demon pulled from his cloak a black ring.  

Jimin’s black ring.  Your black ring.  

Instinctively, he flicked his tail once again, thorns shooting at the hooded demon.  “Where is she,” Jimin demanded in a growl.  His voice coming out in layers, like a distorted evil.  The hooded demon placed the ring back into his cloak. “That belongs to me!” He screeched, ready to tackle and possibly tear out the demon’s throat until they tossed their hood off their head.  His face was painted in instant anguish seeing someone he knew so well in front of him.  “J-Jungkook?” 

“I’d recommend not trying anything stupid, Jimin,”  Jungkook spoke as his face was as static as a TV screen.  Jimin was speechless, seeing off all demons possible his brother.  Jungkook and Jimin had grown up as demon’s together.  They weren’t related by any standard, but they were brothers of another kind.  Why did Jungkook have your ring, and why was he here?  Did he track Jimin down, if so why?  Jimin blinked as he looked down, running question after question in his head until Jungkook moved.  Jimin, flicked his head back up, seeing Jungkook pull something from the sleeves of his robe like a magic trick.  

Throwing it at Jimin, the horned demon caught it easily.  A scroll was tossed at him.  Jimin carefully held it, his claws threatening to puncture or tear the paper. 

“Burn it,” Jungkook spoke.  His voice was cold.  Jimin shook his head. 

“What?” Jimin looked at the scroll and how took in how warm it felt resting in his hand.  “What is this, Jungkook?” 

“Your contract with that human.”  Jimin looked at it.  The tied scroll was his contract with you.  “You’ve already broken and defied enough rules.  Coming to the human world and spending your time with a human woman, how can you stomach it all.”  Jungkook’s distaste for humans was overwhelming and Jimin could feel his hate roll off him in electric waves. 

“This has nothing to do with you,” Jimin told him.  Finally standing up and stepping off the table, Jimin held the scroll at his side, gripping it tightly.  Protectively keeping the scroll at his side with no intentions of burning it at all.  

“If you burn that scroll,” Jungkook started, pointing at it, “I’ll return the human here and you’ll return to your duties after your trial.  You won’t go unpunished for getting attached to something of this world.”  Jimin’s calmed face immediately flared back up in anger, moving in a swift step to grab Jungkook’s color.  He growled into his brother’s face.  

“Where the fuck did you take her,” Jimin seethed.  He asked no questions, only making demands.  Jungkook gripped Jimin’s wrist that held him around the collar, the two shaking with how much anger was in their veins.  For two very different reasons.  “Where is Y/n.  Tell me, Jungkook!”  He screamed, fangs growing as Jungkook’s eyes shifted to violet as Jimin’s wrist began to burn.  

Jungkook was a demon on toxins.  

Poison laced his blood allowing him to create poison at any given time from any part of his body he wished.  Jimin didn’t flinch even when his demon flesh burned under a dim green light that came from Jungkook’s hand.  Jimin shoved his brother back, examining his wrist.  Grey was shriveled up and charred only for a moment before JImin’s healing kicked in and his flesh began to reknit and become once more flawless. 

The two brothers stood glaring at each other.  Jungkook was angry at Jimin’s choices and Jimin livid at Y/n’s apparent kidnap. 

“I won’t ask again, Jungkook.  Where did you-” 

“Just forget about the human!”  Jungkook finally broke his static facade and twisted his face in anger, shouting at Jimin.  “Forget the human, return to being a demon and burn your contract with her.  I’ve already retrieved your ring and I’ll begin whipping her memory as well.”  

“What?!” 

Jungkook creased his brow.  “What’s that look. You look angry. You can’t care about humans, they’re just a past time.  So what if that human forgets you, just let it go and return with me back home.”  

“This is my home and you’re invading and stealing it away from me.”  Jimin seethed, his voice as toxic as Jungkook’s skin.  

“This is no home for a demon!”  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimin said voice calm in anger.  He shook his head, getting overloaded with too many emotions at once.  Claws and fangs growing longers and eyes flickering with unstable reds that bled out of the iris into his scleras.  Wind of his own began whipping around him, fluttering his silk demonic robes and his black hair.  His horns spiraled higher out of his forehead, growing as his tail grew longer and wrapped around his waist like a belt of thorns.  His grey skin began to completely blacken like his hands and feet.  

Jungkook took a small step backward.  He hadn’t seen his brother like this but once when Jungkook was the victim of some stupid social hierarchy demonic bullshit.  Jimin tore his tormentors apart and if Jungkook wasn’t careful, Jimin seemed like he wouldn’t hesitate to tear him apart next.  

He hadn’t changed in size, but when he stepped up to Jungkook and moved quick enough to clasp his hand around his brother’s throat, he seemed as high as a 50-ft building Jungkook was going to be dropped off of.  Jimin’s tongue was that of a snake, split at the end and his breath was visible as he forced Jungkook to take him to you.  

If Jungkook didn’t want to die, he’d listen to his older brother.  It was his own fault if he died tonight. 

-XXX-

You groaned and shivered before coughing.  You opened your eyes, confused as to when you fell asleep in the first place.  Flinching, you hissed in pain from the stinging on the side of your head.  Touching above your ear, you felt something wet that had matted your hair.  Pulling on it, you hissed again in pain.  Sitting up from your laying position on what felt like a wooden floor, you gasped when your head hit something above you. 

Reaching up, you felt nothing but wood above you too.  Starting to panic, you felt around you.  Nothing but wood on every side.  Above, left, right and below.  However, in front of you wasn’t wood, but instead iron bars.  It was dark in what you could only assume was the cage you found yourself waking up in.  Having no idea what was going on, you gasped when a cloth was ripping off the box, squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden light.  

You screamed, scurrying back to the back of your caged box from the face of a dog in front of the iron bars.  It wasn’t just a dog.  It had 4 pairs of eyes, completely black as it’s tail behind it was split into to.  Its teeth pushed past its chops like a sabertooth and its size was far above what a normal K9’s would be.  It was purely demonic.  

Demonic.  Then it all came back to you.  

Someone had suddenly collapsed outside of your work when you had just left.  Worried, you approached them and knelt to offer any kind of assistance.  Pulling out your phone to call the police or ambulance or whatever they needed, you squeaked when they suddenly grabbed your wrist.  They held your hand to their face.  They seemed to be examining your ring. 

“What a pleasant looking ring,” they slurred.  Their voice sounded of uncomfortable ringing.  

“My- uh, my fiance gave me this ring,” you whispered.  

“Fiance, huh?” You saw a smile grow on the person’s face. Something was wrong.  You yanked your hand, trying to free yourself before the person tightening their grip.  You yelped as your wrist began to burn.  Falling from your kneeling position to crumbling on your knees, you whined.  Looking up with tear blurred eyes, you gasped at the violet glow of the man’s eyes. 

“You’re a demon?” You saw his fangs in the wide, sick grin of his. 

“Correct,” he slurred before he hit you aside from the head and next you knew, you were in this cage.  

You breathed quick shallow breaths, demon dog growling at you and barking.  Making you pull your knees to yourself as much as you could.  Tucking yourself into the corner of your prison. 

You held your hands to your chest when you noticed you weren’t wearing Jimin’s ring.  You gasped, as a tear left your eye.  

“No,” you gasped lightly.  Looking around your cage and feeling around for that familiar metal you couldn’t remove.  Did that demon take it off you?  You couldn’t take it off, only a demon could.  You sputtered as you coughed again, working yourself up too much.  

You sat against the back of your cage when the demon dog’s attention shifted from you to something behind him for a moment before being grabbed from its scruff.  The demon dog whined and yelped as it was tossed aside and suddenly a loud crash sound from around you.  You didn't know what was going on, screaming and holding above your head just in case something crashed through your cage.  

Looking through the cage, you saw someone thrown onto the ground.  It was that demon you found outside that kidnapped you.  You were ready to start screaming at him, putting on a tough front of insults while you shook and hid your fear from him.  Demon’s enjoyed the thrill of fear, so you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. 

You stopped yourself though.  He looked beaten all to hell.  Throat punctured and rolls of blood pulsing out of his skin as he held around his neck and gasped.  He lay on his back, weakly attempting to keep pushing himself back and away from something.  You couldn’t see what he was so afraid of until it came into full view.  

It was like a black cloud of absolute evil.  It made your throat dry and sweat drip down your neck.  Something in that cloud was nothing short of the devil himself.  Pure black and growling, thorns around it and stalking the demon on the ground like a high predator.  Though it was demonic, you couldn’t help but think it was familiar. 

The demon’s tail flicked around his waist, pinning your abductor to the concrete floors- thorns as tough as metal as the concrete split like it was nothing.  Another step encroached on the kidnapping demon and you called out to it. The faded memories that were almost wiped clean restored in a clean swipe and burst of your voice.

“Jimin..!”  It was a weak call, that fizzled into a cough.  The black cloud of moved to snap it’s head around to see you.  Imprisoned in a small cage.  You crawled to the iron bars and reached out towards it, trying to grasp something of his.  The cloud moved and before you knew it, it was knelt at your bars, as you felt the black cloud wiz through your skin like mist.  The pure red eyes and more intimidating persona did nothing to hide the familiarity of Jimin you knew was under there.  “Do you recognize me?”  

You’d never seen him like this before.  He looked absolutely feral, but it was till Jimin and when he moved to grab your hand in his overly demonic one, you just smiled.  He knew who you were. 

“Y/n,” his voice was deep and two-toned like there were two people talking in unison.  “You are alright,” he seemed to sigh and calm down.  The black cloud began to fade like fog and his body began to revert back.  Horns and claws and fangs shrinking, his pitch skin dulling back into its grey, reeling back to only his hands and feet.  You watched his eyes revert back to their oval red in the iris only.  “Do you- do you remember who I am?” 

His eyes were downcast as he held your hand, voice shaky. You felt your chest burn as tears dripped from his eyes.  He let go of your hand to grab the iron bars that held you and ripped them clean out, throwing it aside with an ear-piercing echo of metal on the concrete floor.  

He pulled you from your cage as he fell to the floor.  You sat in front of him.  His head fell, ducking down to your stomach as he wept, holding onto your hand with enough grief to last him the rest of his prolonged lifetime.  You shed your own tears, laying over his back, basking in the presence of each other.  

You gasped when you noticed a shadow over Jimin’s back.  There stood your kidnapper, Jungkook and a knife of amethyst in his hand.  He was ready and willing to stab his brother in the back and you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth, his eyes of violet canceling your voice.  You tried pulling your hand from Jimin’s so you could shield him perhaps, but Jimin refused to release it.  

Swing his arm down aiming for his brother’s back, you couldn’t even scream.  Jimin remained motionless as his tears had stopped and he remained hunched over in your arms.  He had known his brother well and he knew that if Jungkook couldn’t bring him back, he’d settle for killing him. It wouldn’t work, however; Jimin was too smart and Jungkook too reckless.  

That’s how everything resulted in Jimin’s tail whipping at Jungkook’s arm and having him plunge the knife into his own stomach. You gasped when you saw the black blood pour over his lips as he fell to his knees behind his brother.  Jimin sat up, letting you go before he moved to kneel in front of his dying brother.  

“You killed yourself, Jungkook,” Jimin told him.  Searching around his robe for his ring that he had taken back into his possession. “You died for nothing.  I will not return and I will stay by Y/n until my life ends.  I will convert into a human if I must.  I will not leave her.”  He lowered his eyes, looking solemnly at his fallen brother he did love once.  “I love her too much,” he whispered in nothing short of pain. 

Jungkook’s last emotions before he died were nothing but hate.  Hate towards Jimin for falling for a human, for becoming attached to anything.  Hate towards you for bewitching his brother into something that was no longer selfish and instead selfless.  Hate towards himself for letting himself die as a result of attempting to kill his brother who had protected and raised him for centuries.  He hated and he hated until he turned to dust and vanished.  

Jimin looked over his shoulder at you. You looked confused and scared, as you should be- you were only human.  He looked at the rin in his palm before he put it in his pocket and helped you to stand weakly.  He held you to his chest, your knees not as strong as you wanted them to be.  

“Let’s go home,” he told you, wrapping you in his robe before he dissolved into the shadows, the lights of the concrete room he was in bursting and the light vanishes.  You were home before you knew it and Jimin was sitting you on your torn couch.  “Jungkook came here,” Jimin started as he sat on the ground in front of you.  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he choked.  

His lips felt chapped and stung, his breathing heavy and harsh.  

“I’ve contemplated leaving.” He pulled the scroll Jungkook gave to him and set it on your lap.  “That is the contact you formed with me,” you looked at it, holding it in your hands.  It felt heavy, like the burdens of a 13-year-old girl who was lonely and just wanted someone to be with her.  “I’ll let you make the decision.  Y/n, you can burn that scroll.  Tear it up and throw it out along with me- remove all the demonic pieces of your life I brought.  Or, you can choose to allow me to stay.” 

You sighed as you set the scroll aside, placing it on the couch cushions.  You grabbed Jimin by his horns and tilted his head up, shoving it with a bit too much force as his neck pinched.  You then picked the scroll back up and shoved it into his face.  

“You’re a demon of trades, right. Well, I’m making a trade right now,” you told him.  “I’ll give you back this scroll, the contract I made with you when I was just a kid.  In return, you give me back my damn engagement ring.”  Jimin blinked up at you.  

“What?” 

“Park Jimin, if you don’t become my husband like you promised and after you got me all wrapped around your demonic little finger, I’m going to be seriously pissed.”  You set the scroll on his head, his horns holding it up like a rack as he huffed and took it off his head into his hands again.  The warmth bringing him comfort.  “That’s my promise in your hands, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take your wife’s promise for granted.” 

Jimin tossed the scroll aside, reach up to grab the back of your neck and pull you down to meet his lips.  He breathed through his nose choppy breaths as he kept kissing you, sobbing almost as the relief of you allowing him to stay made him feel like he could float.  He felt more like a blessed angel than an engaged demon.  

Pulling away from you, he placed his ring back on your finger where it belongs.  The weight of its return made you sigh in content.  Jimin could feel his connection with it and you return and it was stronger than it was before.  

“You do know that I’m agreeing to this because I love you, right?” You asked.  You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.  The situation was terrifying, there was no sugar coating that.  Not to mention the knot on your head from when Jungkook hit you wouldn’t be healing any time soon.  But, that didn’t make you fear JImin or the consequences of who he was to you.  You needed him to know you choose to do this because it’s what you want, not what you fear.  

“Say, do you know what a bride of a demon is called?” Jimin asked as he moved to stand in front of your on the couch.  Leaning down to cage you to your spot with his arms on the back of the couch behind you.  You rose your brow.  “A demoness,” he slurred with a smirk.  Avoiding your question entirely as you frowned.  

“Someones getting better at dodging questions,” you accused.  

“Your human is rubbing off on me.” 

“Well, your demon is rubbing off on me!”  You retorted before he plopped himself down on your lap, trapping you entirely as his tail wrapping around your leg in his familiar, endearing habit.  

“I love you too, my little human taboo.” Your wedding was 2 months later as your demon husband-to-be stood waiting for you at the small courthouse alter. 

-END-

(tell me what you thought of this pls ily)

[belladonnabear]

Hawks X Reader: Bad Dog (Werewolf AU) (LEMON)

Happy Halloween!

Scenario: You encounter a strange but friendly werewolf named Keigo Takami.

Art Work Belong to Kadeart! Check Out Her Halloween Shop and Art! Links down below!

Shop: https://kadeart.bigcartel.com/

Tumblr:  https://kadeart.tumblr.com/

Your week was an absolute nightmare. Nothing seemed to go the way you wanted it to. From your parents forcing you to take a different major in university, to your boss making you stay overtime while not paying you for that extra time and finally you dumped your now ex-boyfriend for always trying to control what you wear. He wanted you to be presentable in front of his friends. No sweatshirts, no sweatpants, no slides and most certainly no graphic t-shirts with your favorite band on them. Even your supposed friends thought you looked ugly in regular clothes.

Everything in your life lately was so....controlling. Like you couldn’t breathe without asking someone for permission or you had to walk on eggshells with what you said or else you will be harassed for the next few weeks about the thing you said. You just needed a break and that’s exactly what you did.

You packed a weekend's worth of supplies for a camping trip. You used to take these kinds of trips with your grandfather before he passed away. It had been ages since you went camping and with all the stress threatening to give you a heart attack, it was for the best. Your cellphone would remain on silent mode, you would be all alone and you would just be surrounded by nature. It was going to be perfect.

The tent was all fixed up as you finished setting camp up. You were about eighty feet from the cliff where you could get a good view of both the sky and the trees below. Everything up here was so beautiful and lovely. You should just live up here forever. No nosey parents, no overbearing boss, no judgemental friends and no scummy ex-boyfriend who couldn’t even take no for an answer. From here, everything seemed perfect as the sun began to set. 

You began to grill the skewers for your Pineapple Habanero BBQ Chicken Kebabs when you heard a very distant howl. You could tell that it was a wolf but the howl could be ten miles away for all you know. Thankfully you had your knives, pepper spray and bear spray in case something like this were to happen. However, you weren’t going to let a lone wolf ruin your trip.

Eventually, night time came by as looked up at the stars. Mapping out the constellations in the sky and recounting their stories from what your grandfather used to tell you. It was times like this where you missed him deeply and wanted him right here. With a huff, you crawled into your tent to try to get some shut sleep. Snuggling against the soft wool blanket as you closed your eyes to sleep. 

About ten minutes later, you heard another howl but this one sounded much closer. It also sounded much more deeper than a normal wolf howl. You carefully grabbed a switchblade and pepper spray in your hands as you listened closely for any sounds. Then, a snort was heard from right beside your tent. You could feel yourself become petrified with fear. Something was right outside your tent and you could hear the crunching noise as it walked around your camp area. 

You then heard someone speak. “Damn it, I thought there was chicken nearby! Was I too late?”

That voice made you falter for a second. That was a person? Well what about the wolf howl you heard earlier? Were you hearing things? 

Carefully, you slowly zipped up the tent to get a peek at the stranger. He has feathery ash blond hair swept messily backwards with some of the front tufts sticking up in arcs above his head, notably thick eyelashes, and some faint stubble on his chin. His eyes are golden brown and rather triangular in shape, with two little black triangles just below his tear ducts, making his eyes somewhat resemble those of an animal. What really stood out however were the two fluffy ears on his head that matched his hair. And the big sweeping tail that resembled a wolf’s tail.

Suddenly, the man’s eyes darted to you and you quickly zipped the tent back up. Getting your pepper spray and switchblade up for defense. You could hear him coming closer and closer to the tent. Then, he was right in front of it. Then you heard a light tapping noise on the tent as if he was knocking on a door.

“Hellllloooooo? Anyone in here?” he mocked.

What did this strange man want with you? Why did he have animal like features on his body? 

“Look! Just go away! I don’t have anything!” you shouted.

“Sure you do. I can smell it clear as day. I want some chicken.” he responded casually.

You probably had the most dumbfounded expression on you right now. This....wolfman wanted the chicken you saved from earlier when you ate? Was he messing with you?

“I’m hungry. It’s not often I can eat some chicken. So how ‘bout it? I won’t bite.” he smirked mischievously.

You groaned at the lame joke but contemplated about what he said. Maybe if you gave him the chicken, he’ll leave you alone.But he could be doing this as a way to distract you before he eats you. Then again, if he wanted to eat you, wouldn’t he just do it now?

“Well?” he prodded.

“Hold on! I’ll get your chicken!” you sighed in aggravation.

“Thanks! You’re a real swell gal! By the way, I’m Keigo Takami! Friends call me Hawks sometimes! How ‘bout you?” he inquired.

Keigo was awfully chatty for someone who just showed up and demanded for chicken. You went through your cooler and brought out the tin foil chicken. Then opened the tent and shoved the chicken into his chest before zipping the tent back up. There was silence for a moment before he spoke again.

“It’s cold. Can you cook it up for me?” Keigo requested.

“You asked me for the chicken and I gave it to you!” you snapped.

“But cold chicken is gross! I want it to be hot and toasty! Please make some for me!” he whined.

You gritted your teeth. Now you weren’t scared of this man, you were annoyed that he was pestering you to make him some chicken. Whatever God existed, they were testing your patience. Unzipping the tent you poked your head out through it and grumbled.

“If I make you the chicken, will you leave me alone?” you questioned hotly.

“Sure! I haven’t had a home cooked meal in ages!” Keigo smiled.

Keigo’s eyes lit up at the prospect of you cooking him a meal and his tail wagged back and forth like an excited puppy. You cursed at yourself internally for thinking that he looked cute. All you wanted to do was sleep and here you were with his guy. 

You began to arrange the logs and wood shavings onto your fireplace to start with the cooking. Grabbing the kindling, you began gently pouring it on the wood as the man behind you watched carefully. Then with a fire stick, the camp fire began to spread as you grabbed some skewers for the chicken to start cooking up.

“Wow! You’re really handy! Say, I never did get your name!” Keigo reminded.

“It’s (Y/N).” you answered while putting the chicken on skewers.

“That’s a pretty name for beautiful girl like you!” he purred.

You blamed your red cheeks on the fire and not the compliment he just gave you.

“So whatcha doin’ out here? Not many humans come out here!” Keigo wondered.

You glanced at him as you saw his tail and ears once again. 

“And what exactly are you?” 

The question finally slipped.

“Oh! I’m a werewolf! I just couldn’t sleep! So I went for a walk and found you way out here by yourself.” Keigo explained.

Wait, he just admitted to you that he was a werewolf. He didn’t seem to be upset by this fact, he actually seemed quite happy.

“So you live out here by yourself?” you asked.

“Yup! I live about twenty miles away on the private property! Below the cliff is all my territory!” he beamed.

A part of you couldn’t believe what was happening. You were talking to a werewolf. A very talkative but handsome werewolf who didn’t seem to mind your presence at all. He looked quite delighted to actually have someone to talk to.

“So why are you out here?” he redirected the conversation back to his earlier question.

You looked at the fire and chicken while thinking about everything that’s happened so far. You didn’t know why you felt compelled to tell Keigo everything but venting your frustrations out wasn’t such a bad idea to you.

“Life sucks. People suck. I just want to escape from everyone. Even if it is for only two days.” you shrugged.

“Ah, people. Guessing they’ve all been a bunch of assholes to you?” he inquired.

“You have no idea! And it’s not just my parents, everyone’s been driving me crazy! My so called friends picking on me because of what I decide to wear!  Saying that I look like a slob who’s never going to get laid! My ex-boyfriend kept pressuring me to have sex with him but I kept turning him down! He couldn’t even kiss well! I can’t imagine how bad having sex with him would have been! He probably would have ended up putting it in the wrong hole! My boss would rather scold me for hours about what I did wrong, rather than try to give me hints on how to approve! And my parents keep wanting my life to work in favor of their life! I’m not even going to university for what I want to do! I’m doing what they want me to do! It’s just...so frustrating!” you ranted.

There was a moment of silence behind you before you heard chuckling. Keigo was trying to hold in his laughs as you glared at him. He waved his hands to try and appease you.

“N-N-No! I-It’s not you! I-It’s just...hahaha! You roasted them better than that fire on my chicken! You’re hilarious! Especially, that ex boyfriend of yours! When you said he would put it in the wrong hole! Hahahaha!” he laughed wildly.

You couldn’t help it, you laughed as well. His laugh was contagious and it’s been awhile since you had a real good genuine laugh. Eventually, though the meat was all cooked and you handed him the skewers to eat off of. His hands were pretty warm and they felt nice when you gave him the chicken. He began feasting on the chicken and his tail began wagging once more.

“This is really good! Like really damn good! I’m used to microwave meals! You really know your stuff (Y/N)!” he praised.

“Oh stop it!” you nudged him with your shoulder.

“Seriously! Wish I could do half as good as you! Where did you learn to cook like this?” Kego wondered.

“My...my grandfather. He passed away a few years ago and we used to go camping all the time. He loved it.” you admitted sadly.

Hawks ears dropped. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just miss those days when I had fun and was being restricted by everything and everyone.” you shake your head.

Keigo’s gaze then turned into a contemplative one. Like he was searching your eyes for a hidden answer you didn’t have. Then he spoke up.

“Okay....this might sound super crazy. But....would you like to stay with me?” he asked.

You stared at him in bewilderment and confusion. He offered for you stay with him? This had to be a prank. He was pulling your leg. 

“I know it’s crazy! But hey, I’m kind of lonely living out here in the forest by myself and you seem like you could use some better company! I know I’m a werewolf but I swear I’m not aggressive! I still have my human mind when I transform! It’s just I look different! I...I sound really insane! I get it! I really do! But...But if you want to get away from everything...there’s no where better to do it than here! I won’t charge you for rent or anything either! You’ll have an entire woodland area all to yourself!” Keigo offered.

You mulled over his words for a moment. You were planning on moving out from your “friends” apartment on Monday. Even though the last place you wanted to go was, back to your parents' house. Besides, university hasn’t started yet for you and you could quit your job as well. Plus, you highly doubt your ex-boyfriend would try to keep begging for you to come back to him if you lived all the way out here. 

You knew you had just met Keigo. You knew it sounded crazy. But at this point you were tired of being chained in everyone’s restraints and trying to meet all their expectations. You wanted freedom. 

“Alright, Takami. You convinced me to be your roommate.” you nodded.

His tail wagged excitedly and he jumped up on you like a happy dog whose owner just came home. However, Keigo realized what he did and backed off.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” he apologized.

This was going to be interesting.

~~

So about a month goes by and you can safely say that living with Keigo was the right call. Your parents threw a tantrum that you wouldn’t go to university so you can study for something they wanted you to study. Your boss flew into a rage over your resignation. You even got rid of your old phone so your ex-boyfriend couldn’t contact you anymore. It was great.

Keigo was a charming man who always knew how to make you laugh and in return, you made him laugh as well. He showed you around the forest. Spots that you should watch out for like some slippery slopes by the waterfall but also beautiful sights like a meadow full of flowers. Keigo enjoyed nature as much as you did, so the two of you quickly bonded over your little adventures together. You tried setting up a garden to grow strawberries and peppers as well. Something you always wanted to do but were never allowed to do so.

Keigo went hunting a lot and brought back some meat for you cook. His fridge used to be microwave dinners but now he’s eating like he’s visiting a free restaurant. There’s also times he likes to mess with you. Like tickle your nose with his soft fluffy tail and you would sneeze all over your dinner. There were times when he was sweet though, like that time you scraped your knee by the river and he bandaged it up right away.  

Safe to say, you were falling for the werewolf.

The two of you were outside viewing the stars. You kept explaining to him the story about the Greek Gods that the stars were based off of. 

“Andromeda was chained to a sea-cliff to be devoured by the sea monster. promised to rescue Andromeda if her parents would allow him to marry her. Cassiopeia and Cepheus accepted. Perseus killed the monster and freed Andromeda. Then they-.” you stopped when you noticed something.

Keigo was looking at you deeply. His eyes bore into you like he was hypnotised and he had a dreamy smile on his face. You lost your train of thought as you gazed at him. Your face was starting to flush red as he began stroking your cheek softly. A growl erupted from his body when he felt how soft your skin was.

“You’re so beautiful. I don’t know what I did to meet someone like you but I’m glad I did.” he whispered.

It was then that he rolled over on top of you. He began inhaling your scent, it smelt so lovely like you. He loved looking in your eyes and seeing your face. He couldn’t hold himself back.

“(Y/N), I’m crazy for you. I....I love you. I know I might sound kind of pathetic but I don’t care. I love you and I want you to be mine.” Keigo informed.

Your heart began to soar as you gazed into those beautiful eyes. The ones that made the world a better place by just looking into them. You could feel his tail wagging back and forth as you placed your hands on his chiseled jaw. Then you leaned in to softly place a kiss on them. He kissed you back as the two of you, interlocked your lips with one another. 

Everything was finally falling into place.

You two began passionately kissing each other. Your tongues dancing together as you lost yourself to Keigo. You two eventually pulled away with a trail of saliva dripping from your mouth. You sighed when Keigo all of a sudden grunted his nose down onto your shorts, making you squirm. You weren't even certain what he was endeavoring to do, nor might you be able to force yourself to mind how great it was.

Everything appeared to go wild, one thing rapidly prompting another, your shirt was torn into shreds and gone some time in the past, your shorts tore and ate down, your knickers awry elsewhere, your heart throbbing a lot than the heat between your thighs. 

You feel everything except for dread, just need to feel the fill of a beast inside you.

Keigo began taking off his clothes until he was naked. He looked gorgeous. Absolutely stunning from his muscles to his dick. With both of his strong hands at either side of your head, his extended long nails almost connecting more than six inches, his sharp teeth having a huge number of columns before settling down to four on the rooftop and ground within its mouth.

They're long, sharp and prepared to eat up you at any minute. He looked so feral and untamed. He was so handsome like this. His eyes never fall off your face as you let out a cry, neck extended out impeccably for him to jump down in, and head hurled out with exertion as your yell transmitted into the empty shadows of the night.

Keigo the werewolf was not quite the same as some other experience, not from his absence of being human, however his titanic size erect rooster, being frightfully profound and figuring out how to give you a climax that went past the normal.

Each push and snap of his teeth demonstrated it's predominance, as though staying alert that you had the hankering to be constrained into accommodation, as though he knew your naughtiest musings that made you trickle. Your hips were lifted off of the ground, being completely upheld and held by Keigo’s pleasurable pole.

"Yes!" Your breathing was out of sync, the surge, the twist of feet, the warmth and peril of knowing how close it's teeth were to really cutting your jugular, the exceptional happiness, your very own groans and the smell of excitement extending into the air and faltering you up into a casing. Abruptly, his thrusting turned into pounding, crashing into you for additional pleasure. Resolved to obey and stay silent, you angled your head back and drove your hips back, attempting to gather however much joy from it as could reasonably be expected. The man above you was growling deeply as his hips continued to bury into yours. 

"Damn it," he snarled generally, his pushes getting more diligently, more profound, and progressively capricious. “You feel so...so fucking good! Fuck!”

"Cum for me," he murmured, generally gnawing my neck. Ending our lovemaking, you let out a loud groan of joy and of fixing, feeling yourself come around him, your body giving up. The majority of my pressure was discharged in a solitary, orgasmic development. Your juices splashed his length, the outdoors smelling thickly of musk and desire. Delight emanating all through your body, he rode you through the consequential convulsions that pursued, the little climaxes and knocks of positive sentiments that he would hit until I turned out to be agonizingly oversensitive.

It felt so good, you could have sworn you had been split into two at that exact second, how quick and improvise had all of a sudden quit, leaving you both in quietness. The hot semen that stroked at your thighs, came into the split of your butt and even sputtered out the ground was put away for such a long time, you could feel the littlest consume.

"Nnngh..." You snarled, snapping your head to the side as you felt your nails become numb, a sensitive close to feeling beginning to shape out from your hands as you delved them into your palms, feeling your heart almost stop when you understood paws were scratching into your skin. 

Keigo was in his full werewolf form. He looked so feral yet beautiful like this. His fur shined like the moon and his eyes were like the glittering stars above you. 

Your ears consumed, going close to hard of hearing for a moment until your entire body started to shake, hearing your very own battered breathing as you clung to the beast above you, covering your hurting face into it's chest as you completely changed.

The wolf above you limited its long neck down, appearing as though to accept you into its hold onto as you let out an amazing cry, an entire weight over coming you as tears gasped the canvas of your cheeks. You took a stab at battling back yet all endeavors wound up fruitless.

And afterwards, it was finished.

You didn't fully understand that you were keeping down a full breath, however when you fell back and enabled your long tongue to gasp out of the sharp columns of teeth in your mouth, your delightful changed eyes shut, the gargle of your own tail and the natural fragrance of a soothing smell.

At the point when you moaned when the inclination washed over as help until you understood.

The sound of a doggish cry originating from your throat, you set out to squeak a dark looked at edge open, your vision more clear in obscurity and feeling increasingly alert.

You were now a werewolf just like Keigo. You were his mate.

Glaring at Keigo you snarled at him. Not necessarily angry but you weren’t over the moon about discovering this. However, your noises stopped when you noticed Keigo with his head down and his drooping tail. He probably didn’t know this was going to happen and was now worried you would despise him for it. A small whimper escaped him and you urged yourself to comfort the one you love.

You wanted to hug and console him but your instincts made you console your mate differently. Rubbing your long furry neck against his own and you nuzzled against him. You began noticing his tail slowly wag back and forth as he felt your comfort. You could smell him so much more now. He always smelled nice before but now his scent was that of heaven itself to you. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 9 - Startist

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.8k words

Chapter 9 - Startist 

           “How did this day arrive so fast?”

            “Tae-.”

            “Didn’t I just start work the other day? How is it already the end of the month?!”

            “Tae-.”

            “I don’t even think I’m ready. Jimin, tell me we can reschedule.”

            “Yeah sure, let’s reschedule a planned art festival.” Jimin huffed. Taehyung continued to pace around his apartment, Jimin watching from the couch as he sipped a soda, his arm draped over the couch. They had just picked a collection of tangible paintings to bring with them tomorrow and had taken pictures of others that wouldn’t fit in their limited space. The pictures were stacked by the door so that Taehyung was sure he wouldn’t forget them. However, even though that was done and he could relax, Taehyung continued to move his feet. It was as if the term ‘relax’ was no longer in his dictionary. “Okay, you’re making me tired watching your pace,” Jimin said as he pulled Taehyung down beside him on the couch. Taehyung’s neck left his head to roll back on the couch and he groaned. “The festival isn’t until tomorrow.”

            “I know but I can’t believe it arrived so fast.”

            “Well, you’ve been busy preparing and working. Time flies when you’re having fun, isn’t that the saying?” Jimin grinned. Taehyung pouted, looking at his friend. “Don’t worry! It’ll be fine. Besides, you went to Oh Min-Jae’s art show and that was ten times more intimidating, wasn’t it?”

            “…Guess so.” He said softly.

            “Besides, as much as I live to carry the weight of your career on my back, you’ll have more support tomorrow than you did then. Your coworkers are coming.” Taehyung nodded. “Plus, I told my boss and he said he was going to bring his son Kai, so you have him in your corner too!” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

            “That clumsy businessman?” Taehyung asked curiously. “Oh great, just as I need, someone punching a hole in my paintings.” Jimin laughed a bit. “But fine, fine, whatever.”

            “You should get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” Taehyung snorted.

            “Sleep.” Taehyung huffed, standing up from the couch, Jimin following behind. “That’s a funny one.” Jimin smiled, leading his friend to the bathroom so that they could get ready for bed. Jimin planned to spend the night, not only to assure that they had enough time to get everything to Ilsan but also to make sure that Taehyung woke up on time and didn’t sleep through the entire event. It had happened before, and Jimin swore it would never happen again if his life depended on it. Jimin watched as Taehyung wiped his face and hand quickly through his hair, leaning against the doorframe. “I hope tomorrow goes well.”

            “It will. I did a sacred dance of luck during my break at work, so expect to completely sell out of your paintings within the first hour.” Jimin said, making Taehyung snicker.

            “If I can just sell one or two, that’ll be great,” Taehyung said as he walked past his friend. Jimin watched as Taehyung headed towards the couch. “Well, goodnight.” Jimin raised an eyebrow.

            “Don’t tell me you plan to stay up,” Jimin said, walking towards him. Taehyung grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and shook his head.

            “No.” He said. Jimin blinked. “Jimin, as much as I love you, we haven’t shared a bed since we were kids. What if rumors start flying that I’m involved with my manager?” Jimin grinned a bit, shoving Taehyung off the couch, and laughing when he heard the thud hit the floor.

            “Go sleep in your bed, dumbass.” He said. Taehyung stood up, and Jimin grabbed the blanket, sitting on the couch as Taehyung went towards his room, the duo saying goodnight to one another for the final time before the apartment went dark. Taehyung crawled into bed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t felt his anxiety since he had his job interview. Normally, art shows excited him, but after his absolute humiliation at the last art show, where his entire career was just obliterated in front of his eyes, Taehyung no longer knew what to expect. He wanted it to go well, but he was nervous. Would people continue to see his artwork as unprofessional, or ridiculous? Would people be interested? Would he finally have to admit defeat and give up on his dreams?

            “I shouldn’t think like that,” Taehyung whispered to himself as he tugged his blanket over his face. “I’m going to sell out tomorrow.” As Taehyung continued to manifest positive energy, he somehow managed to send himself to sleep, dreaming about tomorrow.

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

            Taehyung and Jimin managed to arrive at the art festival with enough time to spare, more than enough even. Their spot was placed towards the back of the venue, and it wasn’t as big as the boys thought it would be, but that was okay! Music was blasting from speakers raised above the vendor stalls, people were selling food and drinks for famished visitors, and the air was filled with jovial artists ready to share their crafts with the world. The atmosphere alone made Taehyung’s heart pump with excitement, much like it did every time he took his first steps into an art show. Jimin and Taehyung hung up canvas’s wherever they could, hoisted others in front of and on top of the stall, and also made sure to put all of Taehyung’s contact information in an easy to read place. Once they were done, Jimin set his Bluetooth speaker up and began to play some music, a tactic they usually did to attract people when they were out in public, and the duo sat back. Taehyung looked around, watching as other people in their area began setting up their areas with their creations as well. Paintings, sculptures, mosaic works, even people who had weaved baskets into beautiful and intricate designs. There were so many amazing talents that attended the Ilsan Art Festival every year:

            Now Taehyung was one of them!

            “Jimin,” Taehyung said, making his friend look over. Taehyung had pulled out his phone, snapping pictures of the stall and all of the pictures inside. When the picture was pointed towards him, Jimin lifted his fingers into a peace sign and smiled. “Maybe if I make a post, more people will come,” Taehyung said. Jimin got up, walking towards Taehyung, and taking his phone.

            “Well then we need the startist himself in the picture, don’t we?” Jimin asked. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at the unknown word, and Jimin grinned. “Star and artist, I just made it up. Startist!” Taehyung laughed a bit as Jimin motioned him towards his stall, lifting his phone. “Ready? One, two, three-.”

            The duo continued to snap pictures for a few moments until the sound of voices began to be heard in the distance. The boys looked over and knew it was time. The festival had opened to the public, and people were starting to head in and look around. Taehyung took his phone back and hummed, smiling as he sat down in his chair. There was some time before people started to reach his stall, so he pulled up his photos and began checking for good ones to post on his Instagram. He selected photos of himself, the artwork, and the one of Jimin sitting with the peace sign up, and uploaded them. His finger tapped the screen idly for a few minutes, unsure of what to put as a caption. As he thought, he saw Jimin get up and walk across the path, to another young adult who was setting up his art and began complimenting his work. Taehyung watched as the duo converse, Jimin finding a balance between promoting Taehyung and complimenting the other boy. Taehyung looked down and chuckled to himself as he typed “Jimin called me a ‘startist’ today.” After adding a few emojis and tagging the festival, he set his phone down and rose from his seat.

            A good two hours had passed, but Taehyung could have been told it was 15 minutes and believed it. He had been talking not only to people passing by but other nearby artists in hope of sharing contact information. The more people he became friends with, the more people could help him promote his work, and vice versa. This kept him incredibly busy, and when he finally collapsed into his chair, he let out a shaky breath. Jimin passed him a water bottle from their mini cooler, and Taehyung opened it, practically emptying it of the contents in seconds. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.

            “You’ve gotten a lot of people to come and see your work,” Jimin said. “That’s pretty good.” Taehyung nodded, smiling. “Guess my sacred dance of luck didn’t work though, you only sold one of the smaller works so far.” Taehyung shrugged.

            “That’s okay,” Taehyung said. He quickly scanned the area. “Honestly, I’m just waiting for one thing right now.” He said. Jimin nodded, leaning back in his seat. “I wonder when they’ll be here. I texted Hoseok-Hyung, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”

            “I’m sure they’ll be here,” Jimin assured. Taehyung nodded, taking another sip of his drink and closing his eyes. Now would be an okay time to rest, it seemed. He had been working hard and was already exhausted. Each time he had an event in the heat all day, he wondered how on earth he was always able to do it. Just as he was getting comfortable, he heard a high-pitched voice.

            “What on earth is a ‘startist’?” Taehyung looked over and grinned from ear to ear. Approaching at a quick pace was Hoseok, a familiar heart-shaped smile on his face. He, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, wore jeans and various tee-shirt designs. Hoseok approached Taehyung, the duo locking hands before giving a quick hug. “Sorry, we’re so late. Seokjin-Hyung took forever to get ready.” Taehyung had never heard President Kim be addressed as ‘Hyung’ before, and it stunned him for a moment. That is until Seokjin spoke.

            “Well, when the day comes that you learn how much time and effort it takes to be this beautiful, you’ll come to understand me, Hoseok,” Seokjin said, running a hand through his hair. Yoongi, who stood his hands in his pockets, rolled his eyes.

            “So, what do we have here, Picasso?” Taehyung looked over, walking towards his friend.

            “Well, all of the physical copies are some of my more recent stuff.” He then motioned the curious eyes towards the various photos pinned up on a makeshift clothesline on the front of the stall. “These are older ones that I like to show off whenever I go somewhere.” Yoongi nodded.

            “And yet all I get to see is handprint rainbows and using clay,” Yoongi said simply. Taehyung chuckled a bit, before looking around. His eyes fell on Hoseok.

            “Uhm, where’s-?”

            “Oh. She stopped to get herself something to drink and get a map.” Hoseok said. He leaned back, staring down the path they arrived from. “She should be here soon. Oh, there she is now! Right on time~.” Hoseok called out to you as Taehyung looked over to find you himself. The minute he saw you look up, his eyes widened. No longer was he staring at a pencil skirt and nice blouse hidden behind an apron full of school supplies, with a slicked-back ponytail or bun. Today he was staring at a set of space buns on top of the head, tied together with hanging yellow ribbon. He saw a white button-up blouse tucked into a light-yellow floral skirt. Your accessories all supported the yellow theme, from the complementary beige handbag to the matching pair of beige flats, to the yellow and orange necklace that dangled around your neck. This was a look that Taehyung had yet to see you in, and he had to admit, he had to do a double-take to make sure it was you. “Come here. Look at all of Taehyung’s awesome stuff.”

            “I’ve seen most of it on Instagram, you know.” You said, walking over. You saw Taehyung staring at you, and put a hand on your hip. “Hi.” Taehyung immediately shook his head and offered a smile.

            “Oh, uh hey.” He said. He immediately, took your hand, leading you past your coworkers. Hoseok blinked, turning to look at you pass by. “I wanted you to meet someone.” Jimin looked over from his phone when he saw Taehyung leading you in his direction. “This is my best friend, Jimin. He’s my manager.” You watched the handsome man stand up from his seat and turn to you, smiling as he stuck a hand out.

            “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” He said, taking your hands. “Taehyung has told me so much about you.” You chuckled a bit, your mind only beginning to imagine what Taehyung had shared about work. You nodded and introduced yourself to him as well, before Hoseok hopped behind you and pulled your hands back, replacing them with his own to say hello. You watched as the duo began to talk to one another, before turning to Taehyung, who had his hands in his pockets.

            “Have you had any luck?” you asked curiously. Taehyung shrugged.

            “I sold one thing and a few girls came to ask for my Instagram handle, so…maybe?” You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “I’m hoping to sell a few more things before the day is over.” You watched as your coworkers stepped back, also taking a moment to introduce themselves to Jimin, and examined the paintings on display. A few you recognized from Taehyung’s Instagram and were amazed to see them in person at this moment.

            “I think you’ll be okay.” You assured, looking at him. Taehyung chuckled a bit, watching as you walked closer to the paintings just as a young couple passed by who also stopped and stared. Taehyung quickly hurried over, introducing himself to the young couple and beginning a conversation. You turned and watched him for a moment as he motioned to some of his artwork, sharing conversations and the occasional laugh as they shared some idle chit chat.

            The day was progressing at an enjoyable pace. Taehyung took a moment to step away from his stall, Jimin offering to watch over things so Taehyung could take a well-deserved break with his coworkers. The group of 5 perused the rest of the art show, admiring all of the different vendors scattered around the enormous plot of land being used for the festival. You watched as Hoseok dragged Taehyung by the hand to a stall selling masks.

            “Look at how amazing these are. Mister, can we try some of them on?” Hoseok asked the man curiously. The man nodded, watching as Hoseok grabbed a few. Hoseok’s was red with a silly mustache, and Taehyung’s was white with wide, blue eyes and a tiny mouth. They were silly, and most likely for young children, not necessarily two grown men, but they didn’t care. “Taehyungie, try this one on.” Taehyung took it and put it over his face, while Hoseok did the same, the duo turning to face each other, the duo began laughing. “You look ridiculous!”

            “Says the one with the stupid mustache.” Taehyung laughed, pulling his mask off of his face. You crossed your arms, shaking your head in amusement at the two dorky children before you. Hoseok turned to you, grinning. “You need to take our picture!” He handed you his cellphone and pulled Taehyung close. You glanced at Yoongi, who was just standing with his hands in his pockets as he watched the hyperactive duo fool around, an amused smile on his face. Lifting the phone, you snapped a few pictures of the duo. Just before you put it away, however, Seokjin made sure to stick his head into the frame as well.

            “Don’t forget me! How can you forget Worldwide Handsome? I’ll never understand.” The boys began to laugh.

            “Get a mask then, Hyung,” Hoseok said.

            “What do you mean? He already has one.” Yoongi pointed out, motioning to Seokjin’s face. Seokjin let out a forced laugh at Yoongi’s playful insult, while Taehyung and Hoseok doubled over in stitches. You scanned the area, seeing that people passing by were staring at the scene before them.

            “Guys, am I taking the picture or not?” you asked curiously, holding the phone to their view. The three boys looked in your direction, before finally getting themselves into a picture-ready position. “Okay, ready?” You held up the camera, snapping a few more pictures of the trio. Once that was done, the boys returned the masks, thanked the man, and returned Hoseok’s phone to him. “You three are so childish.”

            “That’s why you hang out with us, isn’t it?” Hoseok asked, scanning through the pictures on his phone. He began to laugh, his face lighting up in absolute delight. “Hyung, you look ridiculous, oh man…” He said. Seokjin peered over Hoseok’s shoulder to see the one picture that was taken when Seokjin was mid-blink. “I’ll send these to you guys.” Taehyung nodded, sticking his hands into his pockets.

            “I need to get back to my stall. Jimin said he wanted to take a look around too.” He mentioned.

            “I’ll walk back with you.” You said, fixing one of the buns in your hair that was beginning to loosen up. “I saw a few vendors that way that I wanted to get a good look at.” Taehyung nodded. “Are you guys joining us?” You asked the other boys.

            “I’m going to get something to eat, I’m starving,” Hoseok said. Seokjin and Yoongi agreed, and the group of you parted ways down the dirt path. You and Taehyung walked silently down the path, passing by people who were looking at different art vendors. You scanned around, before glancing back at Taehyung, who was fixing his hair.

            “Have you ever considered doing stuff other than paintings?” You asked curiously. Taehyung looked over at you, and you motioned to a middle-aged woman selling what looked to be ceramic bowls she had created by hand. Taehyung shrugged.

            “I do a bit of pottery and stuff, but I’m mostly into painting.” He said simply. “None of my pottery looks good enough to sell though.” You smiled.

            “That’s probably untrue.” You said. Taehyung chuckled.

            “Well, unless people want to buy something that fell on the floor before I got to harden it in the oven, then yes, it is true.” Both of you laughed a bit. “But there’s something about using paint that’s always been calming for me, so I use it the most.” You nodded, being able to understand that, even just a bit. “I think you’d feel the same way if you stopped being so worried about things going wrong.”

            “I never said I was.” You said simply. The two of you approached Taehyung’s stall, your conversation stopped when the tiny voice ripped through the nearby vicinity.

            “TEACHER!?” You looked over to see Kai, wearing shorts and his favorite dinosaur shirt, charging towards you as fast as his little legs would carry him. Kneeling, you opened your arms and caught him quickly, scooping him up. “Hi!”

            “Well hello, Kai.” You said happily. “Are you here with your Daddy?” Kai nodded.

            “And Kook too,” Kai said, pointing to them. “Look.” Taehyung looked over to see Namjoon standing by his stall, staring in their direction as they yell from his son alerted his attention. Jimin was standing there as well, but there was one boy, most likely this kid named ‘Kook’, standing there that he had never seen before. Taehyung watched Namjoon run a hand through his hair and fix his glasses quickly as you both approached.

            “Kai. Don’t scream in public.” He said sternly. Kai pouted, nuzzling himself into your shoulder. Namjoon looked at you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

            “I was invited to see Taehyung’s work.” You said simply. “And to be fair, you didn’t say anything on the phone about coming, either.”

            “Well, once Jimin told me he used his precious hours on the clock to promote his friend-.” Namjoon glanced at Jimin, who only offered an innocent smile. “I figured I would come and look too. Besides, Kai likes art.” You smiled, looking down at Kai who was now looking around at all the nearby vendors. Namjoon finally coughed in a balled-up fist. “Uhm, you look nice today.”

            “Oh, thank you.” You smiled happily. Taehyung rolled his eyes, walking past the two of you and towards Jimin, who was standing with the other younger boy. They looked over, and Taehyung could see the boy’s eyes light up.

            “You’re Kim Taehyung?” he asked curiously. Taehyung nodded. “Oh wow, so cool.” The boy looked back at the paintings sitting on the stall and grinned. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, I babysit Kai when Mr. Kim is busy.” Taehyung nodded as he listened to Jungkook continue to talk. “I found you on Instagram about like 6 months ago, you’re crazy talented.”  

            “Oh wow, thanks,” Taehyung said, feeling his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Glad you like my stuff, Jungkook.” Jungkook grinned.

            “Such a small world that you teach in Kai’s preschool, isn’t it?” Jungkook asked. Taehyung nodded in agreement, before turning to his friend.

            “Jimin, you can go walk around, I got the stall from here.” Jimin chuckled.

            “Alright, have fun. Call me if you need anything.” Jimin grabbed his wallet, stuffing it in his bag. Waving off Namjoon, he headed down one of the paths leading farther into the festival. Taehyung turned back to Jungkook, who was admiring his paintings.

            “I told Mr. Kim when I found out you were going to be here, so he let me come along. I wish I could paint like you.” Taehyung chuckled a bit. “How do you do it?”

            “Takes practice, I guess,” Taehyung admitted. “I’ve been painting since I was a kid, after all.” Jungkook nodded. Taehyung glanced over his shoulder to see that you had set Kai down, even though he was reluctant to be out of your arms. However, after Namjoon sent him away, he hurried over and latched onto Jungkook’s leg, grinning widely. Taehyung rested his elbows in front of him to lean against the stall and watched as the two of you spoke.

            “Hey, so Uhm, I wanted to apologize for Seokjin-Hyung’s comment about that date a while back,” Namjoon said to you. “You know how he can be a bit over eccentric. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

            “Is that the reason you didn’t mention a date these past few weeks?” you asked curiously. Namjoon nodded. “I appreciate that, but I’m so used to his antics that they don’t even phase me anymore.” Namjoon nodded. “Also, I know he won’t leave me alone until I finally make good on his word and allow you to take me out to dinner.” Namjoon chuckled a bit.

            “I won’t push you if you don’t want to go out with me.” He said.

            “It’s not that I don’t, it’s just…well, your son is my student and-.” Namjoon nodded.

            “I understand.” He said. “I just really like spending time with you. And knowing that Kai has a real love for you in school makes that even better. That’s why I’m always so adamant to go out with you.” You blushed a bit, smiling. You didn’t see it, but Taehyung rolled his eyes from where he was standing.

            “Well, I guess one more dinner wouldn’t kill anyone.” You said. “I just need to see when I’m free.” You saw Namjoon’s little almond-shaped dragon eyes sparkle slightly in excitement.

            “Absolutely. Whenever you’re free, I’ll make time.” He assured quickly. You nodded a bit, turning back to Kai and Jungkook, who you saw had moved across the path to admire a huge sculpture. Kai’s eyes were wide as he stared at it.

            “Daddy, daddy! Look!” He said. Namjoon walked over to his son, kneeling to his level and scooping him up and over his shoulders. “It’s so big.” As the father and son continued to admire the artwork, you approached Taehyung, who was still resting against the stall. He glanced at you.

            “I see you have a date now.” He said. You raised an eyebrow.

            “Why do you care?” you asked curiously.

            “I don’t,” Taehyung assured. You watched Taehyung purse his lips together, in a moment of thought. “…He’s not being forceful or anything, is he? You always seem like you don’t want to go out with him.” You frowned a bit, glaring at him. “What?”

            “If I didn’t want to go out with him, I wouldn’t.” You said simply. “Don’t involve yourself where you shouldn’t.” Taehyung shrugged, deciding to end the conversation there. As both of you stood there, watching Namjoon and Jungkook continue to occupy Kai, you glanced at Taehyung. He was watching them as well, silent after your comment. A slight awkward air covered Taehyung’s vendor stall, and you knew that you were not the only one who could sense it. A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you looked at Taehyung.

            “Uhm…hey.” You began. Taehyung glanced in your direction. The close distance between the two of you meant that for the first time, you could get a really good look at his face. He had dark eyes, and an almost mysterious aura around him when he wasn’t smiling. That matched with his fluffy hair was…well, you could always understand why he was so popular with girls on social media. You found yourself taking a step back, widening the space between you. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for my behavior at work.”

            “…You did that already.” He said simply. You shook your head.

            “I said it to shut Seokjin up. But I’ve been thinking about it these past few weeks and I am sorry. I have my stuff to deal with and I shouldn’t take that out on you.” Taehyung chuckled a bit, watching as you fumbled with one of your fingernails. “Besides, the kids like you, so even if I didn’t really like you, it would be selfish of me to act this way.” You glanced back at his paintings and sighed. Just as you finished scanning them, you noticed a little hint of blue and yellow on a canvas in the back You leaned forward. “What’s that?” Taehyung looked over, lifting the canvas with the dolphin on it. As he lifted it, he saw your eyes sparkle a bit.

“It’s a dolphin,” Taehyung said. You nodded.

“I knew it.” You pointed out. Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “I saw that painting at some fancy art festival about a month ago.” Taehyung’s eyes widened. Immediately his mind went back to a beautiful woman he had bumped into upon exiting, and the tall, dark, and handsome man standing beside her asking if she was alright.

As Jungkook said, it truly was a small world.

 “I couldn’t recognize where I saw it from. I tried to look for any artist information but it was all taken down by then and they said the artist had left.”

He left my paintings up the entire time but he took down all my handles? What a scumbag. Taehyung thought to himself, though he had to make sure he kept his now boiling anger at bay as to not cause a scene. “…Oh. Yeah, this is mine.”

“That makes sense. That’s probably why Namjoon recognized you too.” You clapped your hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t put 2 and 2 together.” You laughed a bit. “I kept staring at the painting all night, I thought it was so cute.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung said, his mind currently spinning.

“I wanted to buy it, but I couldn’t afford it. You’re an incredible artist.” Taehyung blinked. “I know I’ve been giving you a really hard time about everything, but I do admire your talents, that’s why I follow you in the first place. So, just in case I haven’t told you that yet, it’s true.”

            “…Thank you.” He said softly. “That means a lot to me. I hope we can work together and get along in the future.” He said. You nodded. “You can start by that deep bow I’m waiting for.” He grinned his boxy grin, and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, covering your mouth to stifle it. Taehyung chuckled as well.

            Almost immediately, Namjoon turned around to see what had caused you to laugh so loud. When he saw you talking to Taehyung, he pursed his lips, before walking over towards the both of you. Taehyung saw him from the corner of his eye and glanced up. As Namjoon approached, Taehyung stood straight, his hands in his pockets.

            “Can I help you?” Taehyung asked.

            “Nothing. I just wanted to see what she was raving about.” Namjoon glanced down at the picture of the dolphin. “Aaaah, that’s right, you did find that picture nice, didn’t you?” You nodded. “Want me to buy it for you?” Taehyung watched as Namjoon pulled out his wallet. “Maybe you can put it in your living room or something.”

            “What? Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You gasped. “Please, I don’t have any room for it, I just think it’s nice.”

            “Well if you think it’s nice, you should have it.” Taehyung watched as Namjoon pulled out his checkbook. “How much for it?” Taehyung glanced down at the painting and then back up to Namjoon. When he did, he could’ve sworn he saw a smug look behind those sharp eyes. Taehyung frowned.

            “I don’t know if I want to sell it anymore.” He admitted. You blinked, glancing at Namjoon as he set down the checkbook.

            “Name your price. I can afford it.”

            “I said I don’t know.”

            “Why? Didn’t you come here to sell your artwork?” Namjoon asked curiously. “It’s lovely to work, it should be shared with the world.” Taehyung glared at Namjoon, who was only offering a smile.

            “I don’t want to sell it to you if I’m being honest.” Namjoon pursed his lips, closing his checkbook.

            “…Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

            “No, I just don’t want to sell it to you. You’re buying it to make her like you more, not because you want it. How about you just leave her alone?”

            “Taehyung, stop-.” You gasped. Namjoon chuckled a bit.  

            “I’m buying it for her.”

            “My point still stands,” Taehyung said.

            “Hey, guys, come on now.” You began, trying to end this tension sooner rather than later. “It’s not that big of a deal, Namjoon. He can sell it to whoever he wants. I just think it’s cute.” Despite your words, Namjoon and Taehyung were staring at each other with enough fire in their eyes to burn down the entire festival if let loose. You sighed. “Okay, I’m not gonna stand around and watch this.” You said, walking away. Namjoon watched you head towards Jungkook and Kai, who were standing nearby, yet out of earshot. With you gone, Namjoon looked back at Taehyung, who had set the picture down.

            “Do you have a crush on her or something?” Namjoon asked curiously. Taehyung blinked, glancing back towards you for a second. You had scooped Kai up, glancing around at all of the art and creations as Kai pointed out things that he liked. Despite how nervous you had just been when leaving the conversation, having Kai in your arms made your eyes light up with glee.

            “Why would you care? Do you?” Taehyung asked.

            “…Is it that obvious?” Namjoon asked, his cheeks turning pink as he chuckled nervously. Taehyung once again had to roll his eyes. “I’m just asking so I know if how hard I need to fight for her.” Taehyung frowned.

            “You make her sound like a prize.”

            “That’s not my intention,” Namjoon assured. “I just care about her a lot, that’s all. And I like to see her happy.” Taehyung nodded.

            “I like it when she’s happy too. She’s nice when she’s not giving me a hard time.”

            “Then sell me the painting so she can have it and be happy.”

            “No.”

            “You’re very prideful.”

            “And you seem to think having a lot of money is the key to winning her over. She doesn’t seem like that kind of girl.” Namjoon sighed.

            “Okay, fine. Don’t sell it to me.” He said. Namjoon put his checkbook away, instead of pulling out his business card and tossing it onto the table. Taehyung picked it up. “If you change your mind, I would love a chance to look at your work again. You’re very talented.”

            “Thanks,” Taehyung said, lifting the business card. Namjoon turned on his heel and headed back over towards you, Kai, and Jungkook. He scooped Kai into his arms, though the boy was reluctant to leave you. Taehyung glanced down at his painting, resting against the back of the stall and out of view. As he did, regret started to wash over him.

            I shouldn’t have let my pride get the better of me, I could’ve sold this for a lot of money. He thought to himself. …No way. I don’t want to be a part of his money scheme to get her to like him. I’ll sell it to someone who will appreciate it, that’s the end of it! Taehyung sat back in his seat, running his hand through his hair and letting out a little groan. His mind also began racing it Namjoon’s question.

            Do you have a crush on her or something?

            No, I don’t have a crush on her. She spent the past month giving me such a hard time, why would I have a crush on her? Taehyung thought to himself. However, just as he was thinking that his mind was flashing back to images of you since he had met you. Images of your smiling face, your laugh, the glow that emanated from your eyes, and lit up the entire room every time you were with those students. Every time, even when he felt like he wanted to scream at you for how you treated him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell just at the sight of your stunning grin.

            As Taehyung’s mind continued to plague him, he heard Namjoon, Jungkook, and Kai walk away from the stall. He leaned his head back in his seat and took a nice long sip of water from the cooler of beverages that Jimin insisted that they bring. It sent a nice, cool wave throughout his body and helped quench his thirst. However, just as he was preparing to stand back up and get to work, he heard a deep, older voice that made his entire body heat up immediately, and his heart begins to pound deep within his chest.

            “My, my. Never thought I would see you again, Mr. Kim Taehyung.” 

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[cherryyharryy]

Burning Words

Chapter Two: Lunch, Library, and Lady Liberty

WC: 7,400

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Songs for this chapter

The prickling scratch of my highlighter dragging across a strip of text reminds me of how naïve I really am. I hate the sound, hate how uneven the lime green line sits, jagged over the inked words, with a pool of color where the pen sat at the beginning of the sentence. 

It’s raining outside, and rain in New York is not like rain anywhere else. It’s purposeful, like a painting, like it belongs here. The only difference is that nothing changes—not like back home. In Georgia, people would come out afterwards, drive ten miles to the nearest pit and screw their trucks through the mud. Kids would run outside and look for worms and slugs, puddles to jump in. Dogs would dig holes in the softened earth. But here, no one stops. No one bats an eye, not even the people who forget their umbrellas. I wish rain was still life changing.

I sigh, close my notes, and cap my highlighters. “Any ideas for lunch?”

Jessie dips her head back in thought. I see her lashes flutter and her lips pinch, but then she shrugs. “We could order pizza?” She’s sat cross-legged on a patchwork armchair, laptop balanced across her thighs with a pen teetering between her teeth. I have to tip my head over the back of my chair to see her, upside down. “I’ve got a coupon for that place down the street.”

“We always order pizza.”

“We could learn how to cook.”

I click my tongue. “Bingo.” 

The far wall of the apartment has a generous sized window. The floor creaks like we’re torturing it every time we move across a room, the bathtub faucet leaks when it’s hot out, and I know more about my neighbors’ lives than I really need to. But the window....it’s like a movie. My chair sits beside it. I try to count raindrops but there are too many. 

“Chinese?” I offer. 

“You and your egg rolls.”

“They’re the only thing I want when I don’t really wanna eat. I didn’t eat breakfast. And I only had a handful of popcorn for dinner last night.” 

I can see a park from here, and in the winter when the trees are bare, a neighboring tennis court. Flowers hang limply from their stems along the sidewalk. A cat scrambles across the road, sporadic, and suddenly I envy the lack of knowledge animals have, lack of responsibilities, sense of time, unspoken contracts. At times I wish I were a depressed cat soaked to the bone, thinking if I move quick enough I’ll escape the rain. 

“What?” I miss half of what Jessie asks. 

“How’s your class been?”

“Which one?”

Jessie pauses her movements to assert me with a knowing glare. “You know what class. How’s the British babe?”

“Ugh, Harry.”

“Harry,” she tests his name before I continue. A few students have called him by his name, but he’s quick to correct them, surely enjoying his authority.

“He’s most definitely not a babe. A jackass. And he’s been as jackass-y as ever.” I join Jessie when she starts to laugh. “He calls on me every chance he gets. And I swear it’s just to humiliate me.”

“Well at least he’s nice to look at.”

“That means nothing when he’s a jerk.”

“True.” Jessie shrugs. “What about Truman’s...it’s near campus?”

I loll my head back and narrow my gaze. They don’t have egg rolls. “Yeah that’s fine.”

“My treat.”

***

In Hungarian, there are two words for the color red. Piros and vörös, with different times to use them, and should be used accordingly. When I was a kid I got them wrong; called my mom’s hat vörös, and got a slap on the wrist by my grandmother. 

I spent that evening hiding in my closet, using the sleeve of my Winnie the Pooh pajamas to soak up the cascade of tears. When my cousin found me, I begged him to explain what I’d done wrong. 

“Piros is blood inside the body. Vörös is when it comes out.”

That’s all I was left with. And I never did understand the difference. For years now that night resurfaces in my brain, and I think, I’m older now, I’ll be able to get it.

But now, as I stand on the sidewalk, peering through the window of Jessie’s lunch choice, I’m swarmed with the overbearing realization that age has nothing to do with it. 

Harry’s in a striped button down, a sea foam green that reminds me of how different candy felt when I was younger, and high-waisted navy blue pants that couldn’t decide between flaring out or forming to the shape of his legs. I watch him balance plates and glasses, stacking forks and knives, spoons and mugs, soiled napkins and empty Splenda packets. He shovels his tip into his pocket and then disappears out of view while someone else wipes down the table. 

“We can go somewhere else.”

“No.” I drag in the humid air, freshly washed, and hold it in my lungs until my head starts to spin. “This is fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. We’ll sit in the back. At Brigette’s table.”

I’m not sure if you can call Truman’s a restaurant. It isn’t fast food, fine dining, or even a bistro. It’s always dark. The chairs are pink and the tablecloths are green. There are flowers everywhere, I thought it was a flower shop and was sadly mistaken when I came in for the first time to buy Jessie a bundle of roses for her birthday. Strumming violins fill any silence between tables. It’s old but new, rooted woods, lamps from the 90’s, curtains from the 80’s, cooks from the 60’s and 70’s. 

“Brigette’s not on today, but that table is available if you want it.”

Me and Jessie both blink at the hostess, unintelligible utterances coming out until we give up, give in, and sit ourselves down at the small tea table under the back window. 

“I hope the rain doesn’t start again. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

I hum, more preoccupied with trying to find a better distraction than my ripped cuticles. 

“He’s up front,” Jessie assures, “I think I saw that guy I dated the summer after freshman year...Mack something or other...busing these tables. I’m sure he’ll wait on us.”

“Whitaker.”

“What?”

“His name was Mack Whitaker.”

“Yeah, him. It’ll be fine.” She shrugs like it’s nothing. I can’t imagine being her.

The place is busy, rightfully so on a bleak Saturday afternoon. The sun pokes through the clouds occasionally, carving streams of golden light across our table, Jessie’s face, and I assume mine as well. She compliments my eyes and I thank her, then proceed to detail a hundred abstract thoughts as to why she must pity me enough to lie. Someone—who isn’t Mack Whitaker—brings us each water and apologizes for the wait. They’re swamped, understaffed, and had barreled through a visit from the health department early this morning. 

“Anthony’s pissed again,” Jessie mumbles, pursing her lips when I look up at her. I raise my brows so she’ll continue. “I missed his call the other night. But I was busy, so…” she shakes her head and scoffs a laugh. 

“It’s sweet though, that he wants to talk to you everyday.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighs. 

“He’ll get over it,” I assure her. “He did the last time.”

“I just hope he’s over it before he comes up here.”

“Good afternoon, have you had a chance to look at the menu?” A girl from my class ends our conversation. She wears the same outfit as Harry. When she smiles I have to blink, her teeth whiter than heat, slightly crooked, and I imagine she overdoes the stinging gel against her gums to make up for it. It works. Her lips and cheeks look as if she’d became too friendly with strawberries; a character face, full and round, structured like magazine models with skin to match. I remember her from the previous year: pretty, even at eight in the morning. Boys like her, professors like her. Head of the Spanish club but I bet she can’t count past diez. 

“Two turkey on ciabatta with tomato soup. No mayo on one. Diet Coke aaand…” Jessie raises her brows at me.

“My water is fine, thanks.” 

“No mayo,” our server draws out the syllables while jotting down our order. ”Well my name’s Danielle, if you need anything just—” She points her pencil at me and squints, as if that clears my image and her memory. “You look familiar…” She hums to herself, taps the end of the pencil against her lips before her eyes light up. I gulp. “Oh! You’re in my class aren’t you? The early one on Monday and Wednesday!” 

I nod. “Yeah, World Lit.”

“Yeah! How are you doing on your book report?”

“Um, good I guess. Haven’t gotten too far into it yet.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty stupid right? I heard it was the TA’s idea. I mean, I haven’t done a book report since high school.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “So—oh! Speak of the devil.”

My face feels as though I’m being stung by a thousand bees. Harry sidles up beside Danielle and nods to each of us. 

“Afternoon, ladies.” He’s holding a pitcher of ice water and flicks his gaze down to my glass.

I regret how much I drank when he fills it back up to the rim. I scrape my teeth against my tongue before I’m able to say anything. “Thank you.”

He nods, opens his mouth, but Danielle beats him to it. 

“We were just discussing our class.”

My veins are filled with wax, dripping at a pace so unoriginal, hardening, crystallizing. I grab my cutlery wrapped in a mauve pink napkin to occupy my hands, twisting and prodding and jabbing. 

“Yeah,” she continues when all he does is nod. “So what are we doing on Monday?”

“I have a surprise for you all, something I’ve been working on with Dr. Pierce—”

“Oh!” Danielle interrupts. “What is it?”

Harry raises his brows and laughs. “Well I can’t tell you, now can I? Won’t be a surprise.”

“Ohh, yes you can. We won’t say a word.”

Harry denies her once more. His eyes flicker down to me. “I’m sure you won’t. But you’ll have to wait for class to find out.”

“Oh my God! Your hand!”

I follow Jessie’s voice to see a small pool of blood decorating the table, my napkin having soaked up some, my skin a bit more. Red reflects in the sparkling silver of a fork and spoon, glistening on the blade of a knife I have carelessly sawed against the tip of my ring finger. I didn’t feel anything until I saw the cut, and now it stings. 

“We have a first aid kit in the back.” I hear Harry say but I look to Jessie. “Here,” he pulls a handful of napkins from his apron and cups them around my finger. “Is this okay?”

I nod without looking at him. He tells me to come with him, and I oblige, weighing my evils as the entire room is now focused on our table and the girl bleeding out right before their eyes. As I walk with him, I selfishly hope I do lose enough to earn a transfusion, amputate my finger, something, anything, so I can leave. If I get to stay in the hospital, I won’t have to go to class Monday. 

“Don’t worry!” Danielle whispers as she passes by us. “He’s great with his hands.”

I see vörös everywhere. 

***

It burns. Really burns. But I’m thankful. It’s the only thing keeping me aware that I’m alive, that I can’t hide away, that I need to mark my movements as always. He rinses my finger under an ice cold water bottle he pulled from a tiny fridge below the staff’s sign-in computer. Someone yelled at him—Ralph. His name is on the bottle. 

“This is cleaner than whatever comes out of the sink.” 

He slips his foot around the leg of a metal chair and drags it over by the sink; the closet door it had held open falls shut. With a nod he tells me to sit. I say nothing, just watch him care for the small wound like my life really is dependent on it. 

“Can I have your hand—er—can I see it? Your hand?” He rolls his lips in and clears his throat when I extend my arm to him. His touch is almost nonexistent. I barely feel his fingers splaying my hand flat and wide while he rinses the blood off. He uses a towel tucked into his waistband to dry me off, and then pops open the lid of the first aid kit. 

“This is just an antiseptic...don’t think it should burn.” He smooths a small bit of opaque gel over the ridiculously tiny split in my skin. “I think the head and the hand...always an extreme amount of blood. When I was a kid, my sister’s cat scratched me, right under my left eyebrow. It felt like someone poured water down my face. Mum thought I was goin’ to die.” He folds a purple band-aid over my finger, frowning when it’s not smooth so he starts again. “There. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I whisper.

“Good. Okay. Um, well I guess I’d better get back.” His hand lingers on the bandage, running his thumb over it one last time, and then he finally pulls away. 

“Yeah.” I’m shaky when I stand, and curse myself when I almost trip over the chair when I turn to leave. I pause to speak over my shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The walk back is long, and I have to fight the urge to look and see what he’s doing. I don’t hear the chair scraping against the floor or Ralph complaining about his water. I’m thankful I threw on my good jeans this morning. 

Jessie is bouncing in her seat when I return—the table beside ours. “Is it bad? It was a lot of blood! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It was really small. The cut I mean.” I look down at my bandage like it’s a secret. “Where’s my stuff?”

“They’re replacing it all,” she waves off. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it throbs a little bit—”

“No, not that! I mean him. Did he say anything to you? Was he mean? Because I’ll go back there if you need me to.”

“No—no, sit down, would you.” I hold back a laugh; she doesn’t need the encouragement. “He was nice.”

“Good. I tried to follow you but the manager came out and asked me what happened. We get our meal free, by the way.”

“Well then I guess this was worth it.”

Our food comes quickly, served by the manager herself. 

“Why aren’t you eating?”

I stir my soup. I can see the reflection of my eyes in the red pool, and I watch myself blink once before rippling my image away. “M’not that hungry.”

Jessie leans over the table and lowers her voice. “What happened?”

“What?”

“With Harry, in the back.”

“No, nothing.” I sigh and slump back into my chair. “I’m just tired. And I have a lot of work to do. That stupid report. And I have a quiz in another class on Tuesday. I’m fine. And he—”

“How are we doing? Is there anything I can get you guys?” Danielle looks prettier each time I see her. I shake my head while Jessie answers, keeping my focus on my untouched food. “Did Harry take care of you?”

It’s a good thing I wasn’t eating or else I would have choked. “Uh, yeah. He did.”

“I knew he would. He’s a sweet one.”

“Mhm.”

How easy it would be, to tell her my name. Tell her that her teeth are too white and her shirt is too tight. I could tell her that Harry’s sister’s cat scratched him when he was a kid and that’s where that tiny little scar above his eye is from. Did you know that Danielle? Or were you too preoccupied with what his hands were doing?

“Alright, well just holler for me if you need anything!”

I ignore her but she doesn’t seem to notice, waltzing off. Harry’s counting menus when she approaches him at the front. I think I hear her call him an angel, but I know I see him smile. I tell Jessie I want to leave. If I’m going to throw up it’s going to be in my bathroom with my best friend holding my hair back. 

***

I've had the Arctic Monkeys stuck in my head all morning. Every clink of the spoon against my bowl of cheerios, every step I took rushing to school because I decided to spend my time in the shower crying, every yawn from everyone stumbling into class. 

And I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, 

Yours, until the rivers all run dry. 

It’s five past eight. Dr. Pierce stands towards the corner, pointing at paperwork another professor is showing him. Each time a student cracks the door open they smile and hurry to their desk like they’ve won something. Freshmen. He told us twice that he doesn’t care if we’re late, it’s our grade not his, which I appreciate. My pen taps across my notebook. 

And I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines, 

Yours, until the poets run out of rhyme 

In other words, until the end of time

He is late, however. I try to refuse my need to look up at the door each time it opens. I want to dismiss the anxiety of waiting for him. 

I'm gonna stay right here by your side, 

Do my best to keep you satisfied 

Nothin' in the world could drive me away 

'Cause every day, you'll hear me say

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry apologizes, bustling through the door. He did his best to fix the upturned collar of his rose pink button-down, subtly, albeit he fails miserably when a smudge of maroon is revealed. “I uh,” he clears his throat, “had some things to take care of. Got carried away.” He directs his excuse towards our professor, scrambling to pull out today’s materials from his bag. 

Dr. Pierce bids the professor goodbye and welcomes Harry, offering him time to gather himself which he does rather quickly. His lips are pressed together until he’s the center of attention, scanning the room as he always does, finalizing on me and I swear his eyes glisten. 

“So, uh, today we’ll be—”

“So sorry I’m late.” Danielle hurries through the door and takes her seat at the front.

“Right, um, welcome.” Harry’s gaze is trained on the paper in his hands. His brows furrow and he clears his throat before continuing. “As I was saying, we’re doing something a tad different today. Dr. Pierce and I have been talking, and we decided to break up our usual routine And with your reports due soon, offer you all a little added support. So we’ll be heading to the library where you all can work, ask questions, get mine or Dr. Pierce’s advice—whatever you need to finish the final touches before you hand anything in.”

Most everyone appears pleased with this news, proceeding to sling their bags over their shoulders and get out of their chairs. 

“Hold on, hold on,” Dr. Pierce interjects the flow. “You must work on your report and your report only. This isn’t a free-for-all. And I don’t want to hear that you’ve finished it, because I can guarantee that there’s room for improvement from each of you.”

Danielle is the first to make it to the front. She passes Harry on her way to the door and straightens his collar. His face matches the rose colored stain she thumbs over and I think about how if I veer off and go home, no one will notice. 

And I'll be yours until two and two is three, 

Yours, until the mountains crumble to the sea 

In other words, until eternity 

Baby, I'm yours

***

Our library is something out of a medieval storybook. Rich, haunted woods and six tier windows where dust sparkles through the light pushing in. You can lose aged pennies against the floor and get lost behind dusty shelves if you want to. There are microfilms, typewriters, and a spirit machine downstairs and two velvet couches on the second floor. 

I spent the majority of my first semester here, back when Jessie brought a different boy home every Friday night. I’ve missed the smell, the quiet, the disturbed alteration of reality inside its doors. But when I look around at my class tossing their bags on tables and hollering for Dr. Pierce or Harry’s attention, I’m not sure if I’ll make plans to come back. 

Ms. Bortnick, the head librarian, is a stout woman who barely sees over the front desk, but somehow always knows when I’ve come in. When it’s raining, she knows the shake of my umbrella from everyone else’s. And when it’s spring, she knows my sneezes from everyone else’s. She is like a grandmother, only she’d never had kids, so not quite so in that you can’t get away with stuff. She has a bad eye and one good kidney, and sometimes she mixes these two things up, but I gave up on correcting her long ago. That’s how long I’ve been here. 

She is Ukrainian and her accent is thick and aged, much like her mind. “Hello nyuszi,” she says before I’m fully inside. It’s bunny in Hungarian. A nickname from my mom, who tells everyone because she thinks it’s cute. Everyone, including the tiny librarian during the campus tour we took forever and a day ago. 

“Hi Ms. Bortnick,” I say, lagging, like I’m embarrassed, because I am. 

She just waves with a big grandmother-like smile that makes you miss home. 

I take a seat at a small table, behind a section of Virginia Woolf. Most of the voices die down, the clicks of keyboards taking their place, and I  pull out the research I’ve started for my report. The Tropic of Cancer, slightly tattered and worn, lay open beside my notebook, and my laptop sits adjacent. 

“You coming along well?”

Shit. I jump, my ears ringing. “I’m fine.”

Harry nods and paces behind me to look over my shoulder. The air below his body weighs down against my back, so suffocating and harnessing that I’m sure I feel the waves and vibrations his heart emits. I try to swallow but my tongue gets in the way. I should’ve stayed home.

Harry nods and paces behind me to look over my shoulder. The air below his body weighs down against my back, so suffocating and harnessing that I’m sure I feel the waves and vibrations his heart emits. I try to swallow but my tongue gets in the way. I should’ve stayed home. 

“I actually did an analysis on Henry Miller a couple years ago. If you wanna pick my brain, you’re more than welcome to.”

“Oh uh, thanks.”

His voice is grumbly, like rocks turning over beneath tires. Yet smooth, like washing sand off your body. I’m perplexed for a moment, at how these two things meet together so well, but that’s always the case with people. Like how Ms. Bortnick can’t remember anyone’s actual name, but sews that wound up with a pet name she picks out just for you. 

“Yeah, I think I might even have an essay on my laptop. You can look over it if you’d like,” he says. 

“Thank you, but I think I’m fine with what I have.”

“Well if you need anything, just let me know.”

I nod. My eyes blink once he steps away, and it takes me a moment to remember where I am and what I am doing. I’m a bit separated from most of the class, at one of the outlying tables apart from the student section where Harry ambles around everyone. Whenever he bends over to look at someone’s work, the muscles beneath his shirt ripple and contract. I can see his shoulder blades from here, and I’m failing to recall a time when the definition of someone’s spine has ever called for my attention. 

I shake my head, naïvely expecting that to clear my mind. Google is pulled up on my laptop, but instead of searching for The Tropic of Cancer, I press the keys in Harry’s name. 

The first couple links that pop up are social media accounts. I avoid these and move on to the next option, a link going back to our school. It takes me to his name under the directory, nothing more than a profile picture and his credentials. 

Harry Styles

Received his Bachelor of Arts in English Literature at New York University in 2016. He completed a one year internship at the Ann Rittenberg Literary Agency Inc. in New York in 2017, and in 2018, spent a year abroad in France and Italy studying classic literature surrounding the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries. He is currently working on his graduate degree, assisted professional teaching placement, and his thesis on the cultivation of the Renaissance era in regards to English literature. 

I read over everything three times. That’s how long it takes me to grasp it all. He’s accomplished more in three years of his life than I have in my entire existence. It’s weird, being in my twenties and already feeding off the desire of wanting to be young again. It’s not fair how some people are prone to achievements and winning, while the rest of us are left to scramble around, years later to piece together a life that offers a sliver of satisfaction. 

I close the window and ineptly click on one of his social media accounts, and for some reason my stomach twists. There’s a picture of him on twitter, from this weekend. He’s at Truman’s with his arm around Danielle, a smile on his face, and a caption thanking her for getting him his job. They’re both pretty; perfect for each other really. The only thing I can think of being thankful for in this moment is that I was not included in their picture. No one needs to see that comparison; I provide myself with enough pity to feed an army.

And maybe it’s stupid, but I navigate to Danielle’s account. There’s a weird fraction in the self-loathing lifestyle, like my brain needs a reminder of where I stand in this world. It keeps me in check, I believe. I cannot imagine thinking I look good, only to be reminded that I don’t in fact, look anything close to good. That’s a big fall to take, and I prefer to spend my time at the bottom. I’ve earned my place here.

I zoom in to every picture. Have you ever compared your wrist to someone? Or the space where your neck meets your shoulders? She has a big, red birthmark on her hip, but she makes it look necessary. And I’m sure Harry probably likes it. And I’m sure she’s told him how she’s no longer ashamed of it, and she’s not afraid to wear bikinis because she doesn’t care what people think. And she probably thinks that’s what makes her different and that’s the story she tells, how she overcame insecurity and loves her body now. And she would probably tell me that I just need to learn how to accept my flaws and learn to love them and then I’ll finally be happy like her. But that’s stupid, even stupider then me scrolling through her account to find some awkward picture, maybe one where her nose and lips are less perfect and I can start saving up for surgery too. Because if I looked like her, I’d have no problem being happy. I’d post pictures on the beach, and find a boyfriend, and not feel like a pathetic loser who’s done nothing with her life.

“Are you writing your report on Danielle?”

I lurch with stiff bones, and now I can’t remember if I’ve had this headache all day or if Dr. Pierce’s voice triggered it. Shamefully, I close the browser. “No, I’m sorry.” I hope that’s enough, because it’s all I can afford to give right now. Maybe if he knew I was seconds away from crying he’ll leave me alone.

“Get back to work please.”

Just make it ‘til you get home. You can cry there. Not here. Not here. Not here.

***

I tediously lower my body so that the water pulses right below my chin. My knees are covered, but only if I remain motionless, or the water will break against my skin and then my knee caps will appear suddenly. I inch my feet further across the acrylic until they are hidden once again. 

There is a window extending from the floor beside the tub all the way up, over my head so I have a view of the street below as well as the sky, and it’s always quite a contrast. If the street is busy, then the sky is not. But then if the sky has a heavy to-do list, then it’s the road below me that becomes shallow, except when rain is falling in a race to its demise against the concrete. 

I suck in a breath that’s full of my shampoo and bodywash and the rose oil I dropped in twenty minutes ago. I can taste it in my lungs, so before it becomes too much, I push against my heels, my knees forming mountains as they break the surface and my head becomes consumed a moment later. The pressure is light, just enough; I’m more aware that I’m living than I did when oxygen was flowing through my lungs. I count to ten and then release the burn as I crash upwards. It’s a bit dramatic and cinema worthy, but there’s no one watching; even the city-goers are too far below me to care that I live here. 

“Is my phone in there?”

I drag my eyes open and sure enough, Jessie’s phone sits on the counter. “Come in!”

“Oh thank God, thought I left it at that party.” She picks her clothes from last night off the floor and throws them in the hamper. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“And why’s that?”

I shrug, but she doesn’t see me, now straightening up the mess she made of her toiletries, her back to me while she shoves everything into her drawer.

“Just one of those nights I guess.”

She peaks over her shoulder and hums. “You have a lot of those.” She turns fully, looking at me like she is a mother. I rack my brain for an excuse but I can’t find one. If I did, I would’ve tried it out on myself years ago. “Y’know I’m here to talk. I’m your best friend...that’s part of my job.”

I smile at the water, but turn away when I see my reflection. “I’m fine. Just getting used to the semester.”

She lets the defeat show on her face, and I’m glad I know how to mask mine. “Alright then. Well just text me if you need me. I’m always here for you.” Her voice is soft and patient and I feel guilty for lying to her. “I’m late for cello practice.”

“I’ll be fine. Gonna enjoy my day off.”

“And actually enjoy it! No studying, no flash cards!” She laughs when I roll my eyes. “I mean it. Go to the park, eat a pint of ice cream, masturbate, please, anything outside of those notebooks of yours!”

“I’ll add those to the list,” I laugh. “I’m probably just gonna stay home and relax. Watch Uptown Girls or something. Eat cookie dough.”

“And—”

“And masturbate I know.”

She kisses my head and grabs her phone, heading out the door, her voice fading as she leaves. “You can tell me all about it later.”

The tile is cold beneath my feet, and slick with warning as I pull the plug on the drain and take a moment to scan the world outside. The sun is in attendance today, some of its beams make their way into the bathroom and have crawled across the floor all morning. I decide to stand there, on the beams to warm my toes slightly. It’s probably more in my head, the warmth, but I’ll take it either way. The tiles are black and white, a classic checkerboard, and I gave up on choosing a color to step on not long after we moved in. 

The mirror is foggy and I work fast to wash my face and brush my teeth, keeping my towel tight around myself until the last possible second, trading it’s warmth for a sweater and jeans. I slip into my shoes. I haven’t read much for leisure, and pick up my copy of Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl from my bookshelf before I leave. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it, but each time never fails to reward me with something I didn’t catch the last time. 

***

There’s a park within walking distance from my apartment. I like to go there in the rain sometimes, under my green umbrella, and read literary magazines with a thermos of coffee Jessie made me. I look like the adult that I’m supposed to be. I don’t think anyone ever notices, which isn’t much different then the expectations I lay out for myself the night before. 

Today, however, I am not walking to the park. I am taking a train to the park. The park—Central Park. And it’s not raining and I forgot to bring coffee, but I need today. I need to do something for myself. Something outside my comfort zone. That’s how you become a better person, right?

We don’t have subways back home. There isn’t much of anything back home other than high school football games, car washes, and stray cats that everyone feeds. The first time I rode the train I cried. Jessie told me that it was okay, and that’s why I did it the next time, and the time after that. I’m not going to cry today, though. I am not going to get overwhelmed and worry about when to get on and when to get off and who’s looking at me and how I wouldn’t be able to help anyone if they get mugged or how if I trip and fall on the platform, I’ll start praying for death. 

Light flashes at a rhythm I’m unfamiliar with, but I manage to keep my focus on my book. It shakes in my hands but I keep reading. I’m not really reading, in its true form, that is. I’ve marked this book up so much I could use it as confetti, and those are the parts I’m reading. The parts that meant something to me at each stage of my life: I used a green pen at age eleven, red sharpie at fifteen, blue highlighter at twenty, and ripped sticky notes at twenty-three. It’s less of a commitment this way, but when the screeching travels up my spine and I can smell something other than people when I’m back on solid ground, I wipe my cheeks and they’re dry. 

When I lie in bed at night and think over the many sins and shortcomings attributed to me, I get so confused by it all that I either laugh or cry: it depends on what sort of mood I am in. Then I fall asleep with a stupid feeling of wishing to be different from what I am or from what I want to be; perhaps to behave differently from the way I want to behave.

I have a plan in place. One that I didn’t feel comfortable telling Jessie even though I know she’d be supportive. That’s the conundrum; having a best friend who loves you so much they want to fix you. She would have tagged along today, asked me how I’m feeling a million times and try to rationalize everything. She’d tell me all the ways I can be happy. But she can’t do that. No one should be allowed to, really. Because if you say can then there also has to be the option of can’t. And if people had the choice to pick what state their mind was in every day, I wouldn’t be strolling around parts of New York I’ve never been in, trying to scrounge up some off-handed version of self-love.

I bought a bath bomb and candles, stopped at a stationary store to pick up pens and notebooks that I don’t need, another Beatles t-shirt and chocolate. A farmer’s market was selling fresh fruit and I bought a tomato and ate the whole thing right there. I don’t care that it’s cheap retail therapy. It’s blocking out school and certain people and my age and my lack of success as an adult. And maybe it’s not working, but it’s New York—there’s distractions everywhere. And that’s exactly what I’m doing today. 

***

Liberty Island. That’s where the Statue of Liberty is. I am stupid for thinking Staten Island, but in my defense, that’s where everyone outside of New York thinks it is. When I moved here I wanted to see it. It was going to be this defining moment that solidified me in my new home, this incredible rebirth that validated me leaving my parents. I was going to buy cheap postcards and send them to my mom and I’d say See, I’m here and I’m happy. This was the right choice. I fit in. Please stop crying. At least I didn’t think it was Ellis Island. 

I’m on the right ferry heading towards the right island. Soon, I really see her and I start crying. She’s green but she’s not green, and she’s copper but also not really. She’s this woman and that’s fucking cool, except I know had she not been a gift, she would have been a man. There is someone with a microphone talking about her but the wind burns my ears so I pull up google on my phone. 

The Babylonian Ishtar, Imperial Rome’s goddess Libertas was Papal Rome’s “Mother of the Harlots and abominations of the earth” and the template for America’s Statue of Liberty.

I paid to visit the pedestal but not the crown. I don’t trust my body to climb twenty stories. I don’t wanna know what I’ll think about that high up. I saved up and bought a reservation and now that I’m here, I wish I’d brought Jessie along. I wish I had more people to choose from to bring along because this isn’t Jessie’s thing. But that was the idea, after all, to keep this day to myself, venture out, mark something off a bucket list I haven’t started yet. Distractions, distractions, distractions.

My bags are heavy and it’s hot, but I manage to read a lot of plaques and stroll around intentionally. I do, at certain moments, feel a sort of liberation with myself. Kind of like the first time you go out driving on your own. It’s scary, and a part of you still wishes your mom was behind the wheel, but that kind of being alone is freedom. It’s not the car or the license, it’s the option to be fully by yourself at any time. 

And I can’t help but wonder, compare, really, myself to the woman who I’m wandering around below her dress. She does lonely well. She does it right. All by herself she stands, a beacon, a purified symbol. And this is where I’m at, apparently, scrutinizing my abilities at making loneliness look mature and comparing myself to a statue.

Truly, this is my day. 

I take pictures of everything around me and it must be the sea air, because I do contemplate asking this dad of four kids to take one of me. I push that out of my head rather quickly. I switch the filter to black and white and angle my phone to get a photo overlooking the harbor once I’m back outside, but stop right in my tracks, when a familiar face is in the frame. 

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here! What a small world!”

Dozens of names swim around my head, and my courtesy smile eases into a real one once one of them starts flashing, matching this person’s face before I make a fool of myself. 

“Devon, hey, s’been a while.”

“I know, God,” she shakes her head in disbelief, “high school feels like a century ago.”

She looks the same, only like a new version. Not exactly older or more mature, but like she stopped experimenting with makeup and her acne finally calmed down. All of her features sit on top of her face, warm, eyes just as piercing as when we were seventeen. She was always cute and that quality has followed her over the years. 

“So what are you doing?” she asks and I squint because of the wind, imagining her words rearranging in the breeze into something easier to answer. 

“Um, just sightseeing.”

“Well I figured that,” she laughs. “I mean, your life, what’s up?”

I know my face looks resistant. Everyone pulls the same look when your stuck explaining something that is going to automatically lower the standard in which the other person sees you: nearly closed eyes, barred upper teeth while your top lip pulls up in thought, sucking in a short breath before speaking, stiff neck and chest. 

“I uh, well I’m still in school,” I nod along and loosen my volume to sound like I’m happy. “And uh, working.”

“Oh are you working on your masters?”

“No just um, maybe one day, but not right now.”

“Okay.” It is that ‘okay’. The you-are-turning-pathetic-right-before-my-eyes Okay. She smiles anyway. “I’m thinking of going back next year to get my doctorate.” She shrugs. “So do you live here, or…”

“Yeah, yeah, I got a scholarship—”

“Oh well that’s good!”

“Uh huh.”

“We’re just visiting. Trying to hit all the hot spots though.”

“We?”

“Me and my fiancé. She’s—” she cranes her neck and points to somewhere behind her, “on a work call at the moment. Y’know it’s beautiful here, I wonder if we could have the wedding right here,” she laughs. 

“Yeah that would be something.”

“So, are you seeing anyone?” 

“Not at the moment.”

She gasps like she’s discovered something and points at the air between us. “Wait, weren’t you dating that guy, the uh, really smart one who graduated early? God, what was his name, Mark or Matt?”

“No that uh, that wasn’t me.”

“I could’ve sworn it was,” she laughs. 

“Nope.”

“Aw, bless your heart, well you’ll find someone. The city’s big!”

I am done with this conversation. I force a smile and excuse myself, heading off in the opposite direction so if any tears fall she won’t see, and keep to myself until it’s really cloudy and mist pricks my skin. Not soon enough, we’re boarding the ferry again. 

I wave to Lady Liberty and imagine her waving back when we leave. If I squint, it kind of does. Whether she’s saying goodbye or good luck, I don’t know.

***

Dinner is one of those meals that either means everything or nothing. Tonight it means nothing. I walk past Truman’s, slowly. Harry isn’t in there and I stop right outside the plated glass window, now decorated with orange and yellow leaves, and try to figure out if I would’ve gone in had he been there. A band is setting up along the back wall and that’s where I see Danielle. She’s got a tray of drinks that each member takes. When she spins around she’s smiling and she smiles as she walks towards the hostess’ podium and she smiles when she squeezes the hand of some guy that comes up and she smiles when she sees me. 

I wave because what else am I supposed to do. If I flip her off, she might strangle me with her extensions, or tell Harry that I was a bitch, or spit in my food the next time I come in. I wait till she’s distracted, and then I leave. I stop at a food truck and stuff my face with a taco. Nothing. 

Back down the street, back on the train, back to my apartment. 

“I didn’t cry this time.”

Jessie glances up from sliding the bow across the strings, the last note stinging the air. She looks so small next to the instrument. 

“On the train. I didn’t cry.”

****************************************************************************************

Next Chapter

Let me know what you think!

Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @aileenacoustic and @bathrobesinparadise!!!!!!!!!

[hybbat]

Okay, I know this may come off weird. I do not play DnD or anything like it, but I saw some of your characters and I fell in love with them. If you do not mind answering me, I enjoy writing, and I am curious as to how you design your characters.

Not at all, besides D&D I also write in my spare time as well and make comics. I find they all have slightly different processes at least for me.

Since digital art is my main medium of expression, I tend to first draw characters before anything. Characters like Mikeitaa my druid tiefling I went into a blank page and just drew out and pieced it together along the way.

Others are inspired by things that make me excited; the most blatant is my aasimar barbarian, Ashar, who I drew after the KDA music video was dropped.

Its usually less blatant than that though, such as a general aesthetic, a colour palette, a design concept, sometimes its as little as a line I drew that just catches my attention. The important part is that inspiration.

I find this process is quite successful for me when creating PCs that I like enough to play. I usually develope their personality and character along the way while drawing, filling in the blanks here and there once I'm done to flesh them out. A good example of this I think is Reqei

His inspiration was his style of horns, specifically the thought of "what if their "eyebrows" were just hair tufts sticking out from the bottom of their horns?" I ended up drawing a tilted and kind of sad face and as the rest came out I developed the idea of this emotionally numb slave soldier. Talking to my DM about his setting placed him as a slave of the dwarves, his nicer attire and weapon due to being sold as a personal guard after not dying, and informed many other aspects of his psychology and personality. I filled in smaller things with the details that caught my attention and some creative thinking: he wouldn't use a gun and the starting gear doesn't allow for it but his master would certainly have his life threatened with one, so its a broken gun that serves as a memory. His claws don't quite match his colour palette though it compliments his gear's metal buttons and halberd.

Reqei is already someone who goes into instinctual survival mode and would use anything as a weapon, what if he saved his master clawing someone's face off with a cheap metal prosthetic claw and he had all of them replaced for his sake so Reqei had more weapons? Of course dueing this all the characters related to Reqei are also being fleshed out, such as his master and his master's wife.

I think the most important thing is that these things are not irrelevant. They inform/shape not only his character but the characters involved with him. I always ask "what does this tell me about the character?" Especially durring this process of fleshing out the little things. With this even simple characters become interesting and without it big characters might wring hollow, I've had both happen to me.

Its important that you are personaly interested in the character regardless of the medium, even if its just and npc or side character, something like "I would really like to see more of that character and see their story unfold." Thats how I usually make NPCs for my players, and its easy to control if you know what appeals to certain people and you can make it obvious that certain characters clearly have more going on to draw the eye even while making everyone interesting looking.

Some of that can translate to written and other mediums but I think for more structured storytelling like comics and especially writing you have to take a different approach. I find for comics its important for me to draw characters first still because the characters i come up with in my head I might not be able to draw to my satisfaction, but for writing you can go hogwild with your imagination as long as you can describe it, the character isn't as limited by your personal skill as in visual mediums.

The most important difference between them and D&D though is that you already know the story you're putting them in, they're often developed alongside the story as a part of it, not inserted into it. Because of that you have to think a little more utilitarian. "Does this serve a purpose to the narrative/themes/aesop?" In D&D its part of the DM's job to build a narritive AROUND the PCs and its developing live. In a written story this is usually a bad idea because it ends up with plot holes and such so its important characters be fitted into the story and not just created separately and inserted.

For zombiegirl we wanted to make a gag 4koma so we created characters that could clash and create comedic moments, made their personalities a little ridiculous and over the top, and most importantly created characters who while quirky in their own right, could play straightmen to the comedy. The genre really shaped the characters we made and many of the side characters were made to fill comedic niches that fit the aesthetic and themes.

They're also all visually distinct, with visual media people usually go by the rule of "every character has an identifiable sillouette". In writing I find a decent equivelant to be speech patterns and unique identifiable features that can be refered to quickly. This character has red hair, this character is the shortest, this one has no eyebrows; Something that could easily be used as an identifying nickname in a situation where their name isn't known.

In general I tend to write very eccentric and somewhat extreme characters. The most important thing to me is their point of interest. Something makes me want to play/draw/write more about them, something to explore. I tend to end up with "main character NPCs" because of this, where they're too interesting for their role in the story and never get explored to a satisfactory extent. In D&D thats okay because you never really know who your players will want to talk to and have a story with, but in structured writing it can just leave you unsatisfied if their interestingness isnt properly scaled.

I guess the most important thing is it feels natural. While people say "don't judge a book by its cover" people do express themselves consciously or not. Their appearance should serve a purpose. Whether you should create the appearance first or the personality first depends on what they're being made for. I always remind myself that in the end, characters are tools of their story and vice versa and to varying amounts create them with that in mind.

My last note is that I draw from things that interest me. I like plants and flower language and bugs and animals, nature in general. Sometimes I make characters with similar interests but more often I use that knowledge to create characters; characters themed after animals, motifs, drawing from animal behaviours and exploring them in a more self aware humanoid. I end up with a lot of wild child types and alien psychology because of this.

My most recent example of this is the harvester god who holds fatherhood as the most important relationship and opposes the eat or be eaten matriarchal drow spider goddess, inspired by how male harvestmen protect their eggs from egg eating females. I have to remind myself sometimes that when it comes to inspiration its more important that you like the resulting concept than accuracy to the inspiration unless accuracy is the point.

Some people get caught up trying to make one to one allegories but if you're writing fantasy then I think those are pointless. I like fantasy's ability to explore situations and characters that can't exist in real life, beyond just magical abilities and such. I end up creating very alien characters because of that. I tend to frame characters more biologically than philosophically which informs how they themselves think, which is often very animalistic.

I dont know if any of that satisfies your curiosity I think I got off track a lot, sorry. I hope I answered your question somewhere in there.

[lailaliquorice]

be the sunshine you cannot see

AO3 link

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

alternative title: let! cleves! be! soft!!! halfway through and here’s anna’s edition of the six hurt/comfort series. Took me a while to think of an idea for this so maybe it’s an obvious choice but I enjoyed writing it, plus the bonus of anne and cathy being the most supportive friends brings me endless joy. I’ll never tire of soft boleyn and motherly parr

One thing Anna had always been good at was complimenting people. She’d always been able to just focus on what was good in people, be it in their appearance or their personality. She’d been good at it in her old life too, a true charmer in the ballroom and someone who everyone wanted to be around.  Nowadays it meant that she could never fail to make her fellow Queens smile through either a quick kind word or a soul-searching pep talk.

One thing Anna had never been good at was dealing with negativity. She hardly listened when it was directed at her; she was used to that, as in shamed-for-her-looks-500-years-ago-reminded-of-it-every-night used to that. What she couldn’t deal with was negativity towards her friends. That was when she would fight back, protecting her friends like a mother bear when they were broken down and building them back up again afterwards. When the other Queens enquired about her after a harsh review she’d always shrug her shoulders, shrug off those comments like water from a duck’s back, and tell them it took more than that to bring her down.

But sometimes, she was wrong about that part. Sometimes, painful words snuck through the charismatic shell she liked to hide behind and stung her hard.

It was early enough that the rest of the Queens wouldn’t get to the theatre for a little while, and Anna was sat at her desk in the dressing room with her eyes fixed to her phone screen. The voice of logic in her head was screaming at her to stop scrolling, to stop falling further down that rabbit hole when they had a show to do that evening and she would only put herself in the wrong mindset if she kept looking. But her thumb was on autopilot as it kept on scrolling, the kind comments blurring to leave only sharp words of hate behind. If it weren’t for the miracle of waterproof mascara then there would be thick black trails carved into her cheeks from the silent tears that fell without her even noticing them.

She could have been sat there minutes or days for all she knew. The sound of the dressing door opening jolted her back to life, practically throwing her phone onto the desk and pretending to be hunting through her makeup box for something as Anne walked in, shouting a loud greeting that Anna returned in what she hoped was a normal voice.

The sound of Anne cluttering around her desk on the opposite side of the room made Anna want to shrink even further within herself, her usual excitement when the other Queens came in dulled by panic that someone could see her upset. “Hey babe, you got any spare hair grips? Managed to leave mine at home and don’t want to wait for Jane to bring them,” Anne said, explaining why she’d been tearing the dressing room apart.

“Yeah, I’ve got some,” she replied without looking over her shoulder, attempting to sound casual in the hope that Anne wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.

“Ugh you’re a beaut,” Anne groaned. Anna flinched at her word choice, the mention of her appearance immediately bringing her mind back to what she’d been reading on her phone screen even though it was said with kindness. She put her box of hair grips on her desk as Anne walked over, wary to hand them to her directly in case she caught sight of her ruined makeup.

Anne grabbed the box but paused without going back to her side of the dressing room, making Anna freeze in case she’d noticed anything. Her heart was hammering at the close call as Anne turned to fiddle with the costume rail in the middle of the room, asking “D’you know what time it is?”

Unwilling to pick up her phone again, Anna made the mistake of looking up towards the clock and directly into Anne’s eyes.

“Oh hun,” she sighed, expression softening as she pulled Aragon’s chair up to sit down next to her. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Hastily wiping a hand underneath her eye, Anna shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said with a sniffle, averting her gaze from Anne’s intent look to stare at the desk in front of her. She was careful to avoid glancing straight in front of her; even looking at Anne was preferable to looking in the mirror. “Nothing’s happened. I’m fine.”

Anne was still for a moment, before she got out of her chair without a word and marched out of the dressing room. The knot of worry in Anna’s stomach only tightened when she heard two sets of footsteps echoing down the corridor and Anne’s shout of “I’ve brought the cavalry!” as she flung the door open again.

A flash of blue appeared in Anna’s peripheral vision before she heard the gentle voice of Cathy Parr. “Hey Anna,” she said, sitting down in Aragon’s chair while Anne stood behind her. “Please tell us what’s happened. We want to help and we can’t do that if we don’t know what’s wrong.”

Anna barked out a laugh. “You can’t fix this,” she said, gesturing roughly to her face.

“There’s nothing there that needs fixing,” Cathy said, a note of surprise in her voice that only made Anna feel like laughing again. “You don’t really believe that.”

“Well there’s plenty of people who do,” Anna huffed, unlocking her phone and shoving it towards Cathy and Anne. She knew she wasn’t being fair by taking her frustration out on them, but in the moment she was too wrapped up in self-loathing to care about anyone else.

There was silence for a moment as Anne scrolled down Anna’s phone screen, before Cathy shut the screen off and placed it face down on the desk. “Those people don’t know the you that we know,” Cathy said, “I doubt many of them have even seen the show. They take any opportunity to send hate to someone who they loathe for doing better than them. They feel safe hiding behind their computer screens and are too cowardly to do anything about it in real life.” A note of bitterness crept into her voice as she finished; while Cathy could spend days lost in the internet researching seven subjects at once, she could spend just as long ranting quietly about the lack of manners that social media made commonplace.

But as much as Anna knew Cathy’s comments were true, they weren’t hitting the nail on the head though. “I know I’m beautiful on the inside. But it’s the outside that people care about, isn’t it? When you’re Queen and when you’re an actress, everyone’s always dissecting what your face and body look like,” she said, voice hitching a little as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Anna didn’t you hear her? You’re gorgeous, babe. Honestly you are,” Anne interrupted. Anna was puzzled by the look of confusion on her face as if she was stating the obvious to her.

“What they think about doesn’t matter. What matters is what you think,” Cathy pushed on, glancing at Anne before looking at Anna carefully. “Do you like what you look like?”

Anna paused at the question, slowly finding the courage to look up and face her reflection. At first all she saw was the ruined makeup, patchy foundation and smudged foundation from where she’d cried, but after a few moments she managed to look closer. The shade of her skin, the shape of her cheekbones, the colour of her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said eventually, the word sounding almost like a shameful confession.

“And that’s enough,” said Cathy, she and Anne both smiling as they looked at her. Glancing at her watch she added “Will you let me do your makeup tonight?”

The offer was surprising, but the voice in the back of her head asking why Cathy would want to stare at her naked face was hushed by gratitude at her offer. She’d only had her makeup done a handful of times since they were reincarnated and it never failed to make her feel beautiful.

Cathy took her smile as a yes, fetching a few products from her own makeup bag before wiping off the remnants of Anna’s makeup to start over fresh. Anne hung her jacket over the mirror so that Anna couldn’t accidentally catch sight of herself before Cathy was done, though she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at having no makeup on at all in front of the other two girls for the first time ever. But Anne’s never-ending stream of uplifting comments from her position hanging over Cathy’s shoulder was enough to break down that fear a little.

Once Cathy had blended her foundation she picked up the concealer stick, but only looked at it for a moment before putting it down again and rummaging around for her setting powder. “Don’t you need that?” she couldn’t help but ask, internally rattling off the list of things that she usually covered over with it.

“Nope,” Cathy said, meeting Anna’s gaze for a split second before making a start with the powder. “The only person who needs copious amounts of concealer in this building is me so that I actually look half awake.” Anna smirked at that; Cathy’s raccoon eyes were a common sight first thing in the morning when she would trail down to the kitchen for her necessary coffee.

“What colour eyeshadow are you thinking?” Anne asked Cathy as she picked up the palette, scrutinising the colours carefully before pointing to one without a word. Cathy hummed in apparent agreement, and Anna trusted them both enough to close her eyes and let them carry on without her knowing.

She was midway through having her eyeliner applied when the dressing room door opened, but she didn’t have to guess who had entered as Anne’s shout of “Alright Aragon?” made it clear within seconds.

“Evening everybody,” Aragon said, and when Anna was allowed to open her eyes she was relieved to see her looking amused rather than annoyed at Cathy and Anne having stolen her chair. “Are we all doing each other’s makeup tonight?”

“Nah, it’s just taking three people to make me look presentable right now,” Anna joked.

Her poking fun at herself only earned her a disapproving frown from Cathy and a flick on the hand from Anne. “Oi you, or I’ll keep telling you you’re a beaut ‘til our dying days," Anne retorted.

Privately Anna thought that she probably wouldn’t believe her even if she did, but she didn’t voice that one aloud since she knew they’d all jump in to disprove her. Becoming desensitised to negative comments had the unfortunate side effect that positive comments on her looks had almost lost their impact too, meaning she was left in an even worse place when the hate did end up getting on top of her.

After pausing for a minute while Cathy shifted into Anne’s chair to let Aragon sit down, she finished off Anna’s makeup and leaned back with a satisfied smile. “What do you think?” she asked Anne first, who was still leaning over the back of the chair with her arms around Cathy’s neck.

“Looks gorgeous,” Anne said, grinning at Cathy before turning her infectious smile towards Anna. “You ready to see it?”

Anna nodded apprehensively, looking towards the mirror as Anne pulled her jacket down with a flourish. Immediately her eyebrows raised in surprise at what she saw. Cathy had done her eye makeup slightly different than usual, more like a mix between her own and Anne’s than what Anna usually wore. Cathy's dusky pink eyeshadow glimmered like stardust against her skin and the hints of red matched her costume just like Anne’s green glitter did, and completed by her usual dark red lipstick it just looked like a new take on her own make up rather than a copy of anyone else’s.

“She’s smiling!” Anne squealed, and Anna laughed upon realising she had started beaming without even realising it. “Go on, what do you think!”

Tearing her gaze away from the mirror, there was no doubt in Anna’s voice as she said “I think I look banging!”

Anne and Cathy both cheered, Aragon’s laughter in the background completing the happy scene. “Now will you believe me when I say you look amazing?” Anne asked, looking at her through intense wide eyes.

“And that’s with or without the makeup,” added Cathy quietly.

Anna fell quiet for a moment then, glancing back towards the mirror again. “I believe it a little more,” she said. She could have lied and pretended that her self-confidence had returned in full force, but after what they’d both done for her she didn’t think they deserved the disservice of being lied to. She could let herself be truthful with them for a change.

Anne grinned, skirting around Cathy’s chair to squeeze Anna into a tight hug instead. “And that, ladies and gents, is what we call a good start.”

She laughed as she returned the warm embrace. Maybe self-confidence would always feel like walking a tightrope to her, but at least in this life she had friends to give her a helping hand whenever she needed one.