#but you made the mistake of giving me a third choice and baby i am ALWAYS feeling wrightworth-y

[probablygayattorneys]

make me choose: 

klapollo or miego for the gifset thing :00

or just wrightworth if we're feeling wrightworth-y ✨

 (@cooliostarstache)

“The years have passed. The mystery has been solved... and our friendship has finally been restored. I'm happy."

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Tore You Right Apart

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

part 1 here

warnings: angst, sadness

You had just settled the boys in bed, spending an extra 30 minutes watching them while they slept. They are finally becoming adjusted to the Hampton’s house after being here for a month.

Making your way to the cozy living room to relax, something you haven’t been able to do lately, you hear your phone ringing. The color in your face disappears when you see who’s calling you, Nadia. You cautiously reach for your phone as if she could jump out of it and yell at you.

“Hello?” You say in a small whisper, resembling a frightened child.

“I’m surprised you picked up,” she responds and your shoulders sag in relief that she doesn’t sound angry.

“If we’re being honest, I was scared to pick up,” you admit.

“Why? There’s no need to be scared.”

You fiddle around with a loose string on your jeans, wishing you could just be wrapped in Mat’s arms on your huge bed.

“But he’s your son, Nadia,” you say defeatedly.

“And he told me everything, you have every right. Don’t get me wrong, you both made mistakes, but you needed space and that’s okay,” she says, soothing that ache just a bit.

“He told me that you’re going to be helping him,” you say, changing the subject, surprising Nadia at the fact that you two have talked.

You and Mat have no choice but to talk. It’s not fair to Angel or Nolan for them to not see their father. You can actually count on one hand how many times you’ve talked; he usually just calls for the boys.

“I am, but I think it’s good that you said to start off on the weekends.”

“Yeah. Weekends just seem best, especially right before the season starts. Did he tell you that Angel is actually not going to be with him for a little while because of the breastfeeding situation?”

“No, he didn’t tell me. Well, hopefully I’ll be able to pick him up for the day, so Mat can see him,” she mutters, sounding sad.

You gather all your strength to not burst into tears. You are disappointing all of the people that matter to you.

“Nadia…”

“Yes, dear?”

“Am I making a mistake? Do you think I can do this, because if Mat doesn’t think I can do it, then maybe I can’t?” Your voice cracks, eyes becoming tearful.

“Sweetheart, Mat didn’t mean what he said. He loves you and he knows you’re a great mother. He wouldn’t have had kids with you if he thought you couldn’t do it,” she sighs out, reassuring you.

“I told him that I hated him,” you sob, face falling into your hands.

“I know, he told me.”

“I’m a terrible person,” you blurt out.

“No, you’re not. You just said something out of anger. I love you and my grand babies. Give them kisses for me, and I’ll see if we can meet up sometime to talk more. I just got to Mat’s, so I have to go.”

“Okay. I love you, too.”

You hang up the phone, sinking into the unwanted silence of the house. To “Mat’s” place; the thought sends you spiraling. Your tears continuously run down your cheeks. Silent sobs wracking through your body.

I am a terrible person. You think to yourself, knowing all too well about that piece of paper hidden in your purse stating that you are pregnant with your third child.

a/n: So sorry for the angst, but it’s needed for the story to move along. Hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @literatureluster

[crmsnmth-journal]

I have nothing to say. I may be a nihilist, but at least I recognize an extreme danger. The world is laughing at us. Good job. I can't wait, because in two to three years, I'm going to look you right in your bloated and empty faces and say "I fucking told you so." Maybe you should have read a little deeper into this man's policy ideas and see that all these fucking freedoms you are so called fighting for are about to be destroyed if this man-child doesn't get his way. That's not what you want in a world leader. Not someone who doesn't have a censor button, and doesn't actually understand the true meaning of fairness and equality. And maybe it's because I am at the bottom of the third class. I'm like two missed steps away from homeless. The idea of dictatorship should be on everyone's minds as this man, who accuses everyone else of cheating, claims perfection. Usually when a person constantly points the finger at others, they are usually the fucking culprit. But we see red hats, and rallies, and rednecks getting guns and blah blah blah, and we are brainwashed. That is what comes from a two-party system. And the thing is, this system will fail. All systems always do. Eventually, the regime crashes, and collapse right under it's own heavy weight. We're just speeding the process up. I will say I used to stand for you and I to get along, in spite of our differences, but after seeing who you are and what you support, I can't be your friend. I don't even want to be your fucking colleague. I don't even want to know you anymore. I was wrong. We cannot be friends. I cannot be friends with someone who's head is so far up his ass, that your fucking eyes are turning brown. I cannot be friends with someone who bleieves ANYONE has control over someone else's body. You want want an abortion because you were raped? Let's go. You want an abortion because if you don't, that baby will kill you? Let's go. You want an abortion because you made a mistake? Let's go. You want an abortion? Let's go. The idea of this being anything other than a pro-choice situation is fucking appalling. It makes me fucking sick. And I can't wait to see all those prices drop. Because that's what it is. The fucking failing billionaire is going to fix it all? He won't fix shit. All these people, esepcially around the circles I'm in, confuse me. All of you that support him, down here in the lowest class with the thugs and lowlifes, need to realize a really simple fact, HE DOES NOT GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU. If you aren't worth at the very minimum of seven digits, you don't exist to him. Other than to clap at him, and applaud him when he gets shot. This human being stole confidental documents and just fucking stashed them in his bathroom. He couldn't even be bothered to actually fucking hid them. He just stashes them in his fucking house! In his bathroom! In the room where he shits! And that's fitting, I guess. Because that's what he thinks of everyone who isn't him. You're shit in his eyes. Just shit. You look at him, and how do you not see dangerous? The most dangerous creature on this planet, is a man who doesn't care about his opponent. Is a man who is above the law. Is a man who is constantly validated for the wrong things. Do I say everything that he's done is awful? No. Not at all. The dude's done some great things in many areas. I totally agree. Guy has got his merits. Nobody is pure shit at least. I guess I did have something to say. I've gone through my entire day keeping my mouth shut. I needed to vent.

Fuck it.

We're still in this together.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e1 pilot (w. eric kripke)

(this is a rewatch, so spoilers abound)

because my brain is jacked up, i'm weirdly anxious about rewatching the show even though that's been The Plan for months. i watched 15x20 a week (plus) ago and every time i think about starting over at the pilot and writing them up proper like i did around s4-5 onward, my chest kind of clenches up and i look for literally anything else to do. i am worried about having feelings that i'm not prepared to deal with. which is fucking ridiculous.

hold onto your butts, this is gonna be a long fucking post

i've mentioned before that babies in peril is my number 1 hard stop on media -- i stopped watching killing eve mid-episode because of one and never went back to it (i intended to but never happened, brain weasels make everything hard.) so i know the very first time i tried to watch spn (several years ago) i almost turned it off because of little baby sam. that first attempt at watching i wasn't actually fully paying attention, i had it on while i was doing other things and so i missed all the character stuff and only saw it as kind of a mid horror schlocky situation so i never finished the first season back then. when i gave it another go in early 2023, i was giving it my full attention.

one thing this show always got? the cutest, happiest, sweetest babies. 10/10 would recommend

already freaking out how young everyone is and happy clean shaven john is extra wild

demon growl sound effect / padalecki's accent & jerk bitch moment

hey, it's the first instance of the demon growl noise when mary's burning on the ceiling! ooh i'm gonna be even more insufferable about the musical score and sound effects now that i'm listening for it from the jump

also i have called padalecki's accent/speech pattern the crispy r based on some tiktok i heard describing it that way - i associate it with california (but these clips are almost the opposite where the R is getting almost eliminated but not in the boston accent way), and i'd say maybe it was a choice but i think he spoke this way in gilmore girls too? but anyway, his Rs are just very different and it's a very particular and kind of subtle accent that definitely doesn't carry through the entire series ("bear it" in the second clip, the "sorry" in the third). i mentioned it when they had a clip of a moment from 1x10 as well in the pre-ep recap for 5x09

really well done and effective effects on that fire in the nursery

♥️💔

so this picture made it out of the lawrence fire (it was on mary's nightstand) but not the stanford one? i don't recall it being in the collection

i never really understood where sam was supposed to be timeline-wise in college, other than he must not have graduated because it was october? so there's me googling when you take the LSAT. so he could have (assuming it hasn't changed that much since 2005) taken it in june or october of the calendar year before he graduated. all right so that makes sense now that i think about it for more than 30 seconds. so he didn't finish his last year really of his bachelor's. and he's 22. i think in that alex irvine john winchester diary novel thing (don't think that that's considered canon but that's a whole other can of worms), it said sam graduated high school at 19 instead of 18 so i think that would make things line up (someone made a timeline that also includes everything in that novel but the post is loudly wncest dni so i won't link it). i do know it was just a mistake that the pilot said sam had been gone 2 years.

the ever useful canon discrepancies article at superwiki:

One of the most frequently debated potential canon discrepancies. Here are the facts: - In the 1.01 Pilot, Sam is about to be interviewed for law school, which could work on the assumption that he's just about to finish a bachelor degree (4 years). Dean also says that he hasn't spoken to Sam in "nearly two years." - In 1.03 Dead in the Water, Dean tells Sam that he spent "Every day for two years with Dad, while you were going to pep rallies." - In 1.07 Hook Man, Dean says "So this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" when they are researching in the library. - The original promo dates Mary's death to September 13, 1985, consistent with Sam being twenty and having been at Stanford for two years but out of step with everything else in the series. Eric Kripke acknowledged during a panel at the 2006 William S. Paley Television Festival that they made a mistake in the script -- initially Sam was meant to be 20, then they aged him up to 22, but neglected to change Dean's line from "two years" to "four years." Therefore, it may have been the creators' intention that Sam has been at college for four years.

this is gonna take me approximately forever to rewatch episodes 🤪

keeping my eye out for hands for drawing. have a general idea of getting something early seasons to go in the set with the 15x20 hands.

SAM Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45. DEAN Well, what was he supposed to do? SAM I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.

classic john

SAM Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. SAM But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find. DEAN We save a lot of people doing it, too.

one thing i'm thinking about is how i definitely was under the impression that they really didn't know any other hunters until they start getting mentioned here and there (dropping bits of backstory about working jobs with xyz while sam was at school etc), and that they barely knew anything about demons. so i'm curious to see how much of that is me misremembering

SAM You think Mom would have wanted this for us? The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors. DEAN So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it? SAM No. Not normal. Safe. DEAN And that's why you ran away. SAM I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.

classic john x2. i know it's the pilot, i know they're bombing us with backstory like they need to, but i'm just like. everything about this ends up being pretty essential to understanding them and how they were raised it's so much 😩

DEAN I can't do this alone. SAM Yes you can. DEAN Yeah, well, I don't want to.

excuse me while my heart breaks into little bits. i knew that line in 15x20 was a callback to this, and it was heartbreaking then too. well actually it makes feel slightly ill rereading that scene from the finale. too emotionally invested

DEAN It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. DEAN Then I get this voicemail yesterday. He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up. JOHN Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

so he coulda like. told dean he was ditching him for his safety in this sketchy vague voicemail, but then of course we wouldn't have them chasing him down with quite the same mystery. it's just kind of comical.

like this post puts it:

spn season 1 is so funny. they made the main plot line finding sam and dean’s missing father. but like. the guys not missing. he’s just avoiding them.

i'm sure (i hope???) every rewatch post isn't going to turn into a dissertation like this. good grief

hey. i was gonna mention that music was quite inoffensive and not bad at all and was about give old jay a pat on the back, but no! it's christopher lennertz lol. my ear always knows. so that's the originator of the demon growl sound

SAM It's the greatest hits of mullet rock. DEAN Well, house rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. SAM You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. SAM It's Sam, okay?

i mean so many classic interactions i can't handle it. also, real shame netflix didn't/wouldn't get the licensing for the music originally aired. i have the blurays but i'm down a functional bluray player so here i am, watching on netflix with shitty replacement music yet again. that scene should have had ramblin man and back in black. travesty. back when they splashed out for the good licensed music (and i usually was on board with lennertz's selections)

the comment about them being a little young for federal marshals (also in their kinda scruffy clothes lol) and wikipedia says:

Marshals Service hiring is competitive and comparable to the selection process for Special Agent positions in agencies with similar duties. Typically fewer than five percent of qualified applicants are hired [citation needed] and must possess at a minimum a four-year bachelor's degree or competitive work experience (which is usually three or more years at a local or state police department).

so i mean, sounds like it's doable! barely. (i'm not even halfway through the episode lol)

stepping on dean's foot, smacking sam's head. very good sibling stuff

meanwhile we're gonna pop jackles in some bomb ass golden hour lighting so we can get his pretty, pretty face looking even prettier. lighting doesn't match any other part of the scene, but if you can get them lit up in it, we're using it!

SHERIFF Can I help you boys? DEAN No, sir, we were just leaving. As the FBI AGENTS walk past DEAN, he nods at each of them. DEAN Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.

respect to the og (that was the show of my youth and my forever otp and also my first impression of sam and dean's relationship was mid-run mulder and scully)

s1e1 r.d. call as sheriff pierce / the x-files s1e18 as sheriff daniels

oh! and this sheriff was a sheriff in an xfiles episode, that's even better! that's brilliant. love to see it

those jeans and before dean had his signature logger boots which i didn't apparently really notice until s6

DEAN Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy.

uncles??? lol

another thing i remember really liking is these random girls aren't like.. tv pretty makeup. they're just random gothy girls with stark harsh eye makeup and lipstick and matte heavier foundation. like real people do! it just makes it feel more grounded in reality to me when not everyone's makeup is tv-perfect

y'all. look at this! so i have talked a lot about the computer stuff, whenever there's a screen (in any show i'm watching) i'll pause and check out the veracity. teen wolf had laughably fake web page mockups. and one thing i do recall noticing in this episode was real webpage urls! and even in the printouts which comes later. which they did not do consistently in spn seasons after this at all until much later

classic. truly. more smacks and shoves. it's okay, sammy. i also am a little bit of a control freak especially when it comes to computer stuff. JUST LET ME DO IT.

DEAN Monday. Right. The interview. SAM Yeah. DEAN Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl? SAM Maybe. Why not? DEAN Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done? SAM No, and she's not ever going to know. DEAN Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.

dean's got a point there. which reminds me, did blurry wife know the truth? i remember there was some blurb about the story behind sam's kid having the anti-possession tattoo

wiki to the rescue

Though Sam's son has an anti-possession tattoo on his arm, there are no other signs of hunting in Sam's life after he leaves the Bunker. Jared confirmed at the November StageIt panel that Sam has not been hunting "in honor of Dean" because Dean wouldn't have wanted him to, but that Sam did tell his son about hunting and about his Uncle Dean, and that the decision to get the tattoo was Dean II's.

so probably yes?

(hands)

SAM And who's that? DEAN You're one of us. SAM No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life. DEAN You have a responsibility to— SAM To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.

oh, sam. these early days he was chafing so hard against what other people wanted him to do. also relatable. and if only we knew about mary🥴

sam enjoying dean's predicament

SAM Salt, cat's eye shells…he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.

cat's eye shells?? don't think that ever got mentioned again

LOL okay, so the url isn't perfect 😂 missing forward slashes and no underscores in domain names, but they tried!!

huh. another family picture i don't recall seeing again. kind of backwards, longer brown hair on supposedly dean and short lighter hair on supposedly sam

so did dean grab john's leather jacket at this point? since he showered and changed in john's motel room. i hadn't thought about that. huh

SAM You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been! CONSTANCE You will be. Just hold me.

i know this comes up in fic periodically but i don't think that went anywhere, like the cat's eye shells

LOL i didn't remember that the woman in white resolution was her ghostly murdered children conveniently take her out

DEAN Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning. SAM Dean, I, um... DEAN You're not going. SAM The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there. DEAN Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.

there's so many moments in this episode that i've seen in gifs and didn't realize were all from the pilot. but it's really interesting to me to see how like.. the show really kind of pushed how much dean needed/wanted sam and sam was resisting, and how i think it really set up dean as the more "likeable" character initially, along with showing off his pretty face and charm and all that. on a brain-characterization level, i always relate more to sam but i was definitely charmed by dean initially.

SAM Call me if you find him? SAM And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh? DEAN Yeah, all right. DEAN Sam? DEAN You know, we made a hell of a team back there. SAM Yeah.

the only thing that i think makes this episode not quite paced right is how they crammed jess dying at the end and the we've got work to do thing. it felt really rushed and slapped on. but other than that, what a great pilot. ranks up there with the hannibal pilot

[msofficerr]

Gathered Matters of Heart: A Literary Understanding of the Author and Perspective on the Anthology, "Lockdown Litanies: Countless Untold Stories", an Analysis by Alvia Lacambra

Everyone undergoes the blues. When you go through a daunting real world experience, it is natural to feel despair, solitude, or grief. And, for the most part, you can keep on going. You know you'll bounce back in time, so you do.

As I have read the poem “Dear Diary,”, I realized that the affectations in the poem are facing tough situations we cannot forgo. To just be alive and free despite the vast choices we have in life, that the human will is something not free but only shackling as it gives us choices that are sometimes hard and something we might regret after. Out of all of that we only want to take what feels real, because we only surrender ourselves in freedom and not the bluing choices that lingers it, hence the line; “I wronged people and myself, but I regretted none. I own up my mistakes in finally choosing freedom.” Reading this poem reminds me of the song Let it Happen by Tame Impala, where the song says “I heard about a whirlwind that's coming 'round. It's gonna carry off all that isn't bound, and when it happens, when it happens (I won't be holding on) so let it happen, let it happen.”

Then for the second poem, titled “The Tale of a Modern Sisyphus”, As per my perception of this poem, life is encountered as a never-ending loop of failures and accomplishments. And that no matter how many times we fall, let us not be frightened to get back up until the time is right. It's not like every time in life we will remain at the bottom; mainly, we will continue going until we unexpectedly reach the peak. Exactly as the poem states “Gracious to push the boulder up the mountain and start once again like nothing happened.” It makes me think of Tame Impala’s Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, where it says in lyrics “It feels like I only go backwards, baby every part of me says "go ahead". I got my hopes up again.” As it says, just keep on going and continue trying even though things are going upside down.

And for the third poem, entitled “O’ Yayi” (A Prose Poem), I was hurt as I read the poem. It seems like she's been with him, but she's thinking about his old lover, as if she loved him in the shadow of his former lover. However, the person in the poem's devotion is very genuine; he still understands the situation that occurred perhaps though he was existent, although he was not the sole person left in the memory of Yayi. Even despite the fact that he barely knew who Yayi would have chosen in his question "If ever I run out of time here and reach the other side, whose arms would you run back again, mine or Dante’s?”, he nevertheless hopes that if Yayi had the chance again to have things returned and choose between them, he would be the one chosen. Which reminds me of the song Home by Michael Buble, in the lines “And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life”, “And I know just why you could not come along with me that this was not your dream”. I am right now sobbing.

On to the next poem, “Two Red Laces on the Wonderwall”, It is about a lost love finding its way home until she met her wonderwall that led to found the two red laces of love. As if it was the sign of her fate to find the love she had always sought. And that she chose this to be her future and to take part with her in building a family together, hence the line; “And tried my luck with several men, but you felt like home, where I belong.”, and “Two red laces flowing down the wall. All because of you, I bare my soul.” which conveys that she found the one who will be with her raising a child. This poem reminds me of the song, “World We Created” by Giveon, in the lines “I just wanna stay in the world we created, I just wanna sink in the plans that we makin'.” It was like telling "forget about everyone but us."

And in the following poem, titled “Umbilical”, As a human who's been born, and as a female who was given the responsibility of delivering a child, the poem made me much more conscious of the struggles that mothers face in carrying the child in their womb until it is brought to life but also growing up. The line “The pain she suffered just for me to see.”moved me deeply. How precious the mother’s love can be for her to relent her own life to build a new one, reminded of Tupac Shakur’s Dear Mama, as it says “Sweet lady, place no one above you (you are appreciated) Sweet lady, don't you know we love you?”. And there's no way we can pay them back, the plan is to show them that they are appreciated.

For the sixth poem, entitled “RE: Paper (I’m Red, IMRaD)*”, I see nothing wrong with playing the long game in the field of education as it is the focal point of our path ahead. However, in today's education system, it is not innovative, as well as no strategy for changing it, and the unfortunate thing is that individuals continue to speak, yet no one pays attention. As it is just a phase of life that we have to overcome, and we will continue to do whatever it takes to make a living, however no. Is it just enough? It is every citizen's right to receive and provide a quality education system for the country's economic development. Is it that hard? “Help teachers help students. After all, we cannot give what we don’t have.” lines came from the poem, which directly tells that the management is not effectively managing. How can educators provide quality education when they were not provided with it themselves in the first place? This reminds me of the song Religion: Humanity by Skant Vee, Cash Koo, in the lines “Isipin mong mabuti kung sapat na ba lahat ng nalalaman mo sa iyong aklat, ayaw ko lang maging isang tulog na tao ang sanlibutan sa iyong hati-hating ugnayan”. The lyrics say it all.

And for the seventh poem, entitled “3AM Awakening”, From what I've read, the persona is exhausted from his existence and just wants his distress in the eyes of the judgementals to cease, which causes him to be tired and doesn't want the world he's in. In the lines “And so, breathe gently ten times and let go. Count seconds and feel the world down below.” As he attempts to relax and serene himself as it is a way of escaping from the cruel world he seems to be in. Which reminds me of my constant favorite song, December Avenue’s Sleep Tonight, as its lyrics says “There's a better place for you than to stay awake” as we use sleep as a safe haven.

On reading the eighth poem, entitled “My Frail Lady”, Based on its title, frail lady, it is widely recognized, as what this poem indicates to me is that she struggles to express herself to the point where it only accumulates within herself, causing her to be drowned in her own blues that suffocates her since she couldn't unleash her sorrow. “Book keeps her internal screams.” lines came from the poem, which reminds me of the song My Body Is a Cage by Arcade Fire, in the lines “I'm living in an age that calls darkness light though my language is dead still the shapes fill my head”, “Set my spirit free”, to let me breathe from the bluing venture of my piled sorrow.

On to the last poem, titled “Major Arcana”, reading this poem made me realize that being uncertain about our future appears to be a normal occurrence as we move forward, ignoring our difficult past and making this present wonderful in order for it to become a history of our years ahead. Hence from the line “And so you went in wonder and surprise for you have seen what lies ahead”, that now you know what awaits you, the only thing you can do is be cognizant of your foreseeable future, which will lead you to the coming years you crave and know is waiting for you. This poem reminds me of Moses Sumney Me in 20 Years, from its lyric line “Have I become the cavity I feared? Ask me in 20 years”.

[jessafuria]

LV METRO PT. 2

So here I go doing the one thing all of us meth folk are forbidden from doing. Ratville snitchville.

I was pissed at Alex for getting me in trouble for something that happened early this summer. And then he got in the way of one of my more imaginative dangerous projects this same day. I couldn't talk to the person I really needed to talk too because his emotional maturity level is still around age 12.

What I do know at this point is that God has never steered me in the wrong direction. Even when I thought I made a mistake it turned out to be the right choice because I go by my intuition. My instincts are straight from God. I never second guess my instincts. Eliot taught me that.

The more I thought about it I realized I had done this to Alex before. And it ended up working out to his advantage. Earlier that day a man with a sign on a corner named Alex told me that he was here to help me with ANYTHING I needed. I thought it was kind of strange.

Alex maybe he still is a baby Alex to me. But I know he has man size balls. I know that he is young and smart and his musical gifts rival Eliot's and Drake's. My instincts say that he would know what to think and what to do and how it is when you are cornered by an oppressor.

To my knowledge Alex isn't involved in the things this cop was looking for. Not at all. He is a victim of the system that has failed us and I know, I KNOW, because I can see the future, (and because I am one third of Godhead) that what I did will not only get his REAL career in the entertainment industry going, it will change the ethical approaches that people operate by on a street level.

It's not okay to lie about who did what. You have to tell the truth.

I feel bad but I don't. I really need to talk to her Alex. And you need to be there too. You need to feel the pain all the way. She needs to talk to Michelle about ninja. and I need to talk to her and them both about my theory on the Jehovahs witness protection program .

You see what the cops are looking for is me. I am the biggest drug dealer in the world. Because I have been selling the idea of meth and how it has tremendous value and purpose since 2018.

All forces that were working against me have been sorted out by myself personally. Be it the cartel or the gov, or even my mom.

So that leads me to believe that Mr. Brennen was just a fan boi. I spent a good hour talking to him about my life in Las Vegas. About Drake, and Eliot. About my research. He just wanted to meet me. I was pleased to make his acquaintance and I believe that I planted some very VERY valuable seeds with metro by opening up to this cop. and he was flirty because he couldn't help it. I will continue to view metro as an irritating older brother that sometimes terrorizes me.

I hate being afraid of cops. I am afraid because I respect authority. But I also think that the "justice" cycle needs to be broken completely. Everything needs to be done differently and I also feel as tho Lombardo is the one that initiated the reform in the police dept.

Meth is not going anywhere. You have to adapt to Las Vegas, as it gives birth to the culture. If you don't like being around tweekers than you better go back home to your mother because this is a 24/7 town. And I promise you that your family physician, your pasture, your kids elementary school teacher are all on meth. They are just intelligent enough to master its power.

Thank you baby Alex.

DRAKE YOU BETTER SIGN BABY ALEX TO OVO.

[nickysnichols]

Hi shh I’m not real (I am the roommate of the person this blog belongs to) BUT someone made the mistake of asking me for old movie recs less than a week ago so I have my whole thing typed out and accessible and since some people in the tags are asking for that in a general way…

Golden Age recs for A Friend Tumblr!

Starting with a warning about my personal biases: I am a film noir girlie through and through, I am also partial to a good screwball, and a lot of my favorites will fall in one of those categories. However, I will do my best to give you a more rounded selection! Therefore I’ll have 5 categories: pure classics (the critically acclaimed must watches), noir, screwball, movies by notable director, and miscellaneous at the end. In first three sections I’ll list roughly in order of “importance” (how famous, how much it defines a genre) not favoritism, but I won’t include films that I don’t love myself. In the director section, the films that I personally recommend the most highly will have the year after them. If one falls into multiple categories, I’ll only list them in one for streamlining purposes. I’m (mostly) limiting myself to American sound films from the mid 30s to late 50s- roughly the height of the Hays Code.

CLASSICS:

Casablanca

Singin’ in the Rain

Bringing Up Baby

12 Angry Men

Night of the Hunter

Roman Holiday

Rebel Without a Cause

The Day the Earth Stood Still (if you like this, check out Forbidden Planet)

The Adventures of Robin Hood

Harvey

Anatomy of a Murder

High Noon

SCREWBALLS:

The Thin Man (highly recommended the whole series)

The Lady Eve

Sullivan’s Travels

Libeled Lady

I Married a Witch

Pillow Talk*

Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House

Bachelor Mother

The Farmer’s Daughter

My Favorite Wife

Rhubarb

Theodora Goes Wild

Jewel Robbery

*(this is a 60s sex comedy, which is a descendent of the screwball, but it technically came out in 1959 so here ya go)

NOIR:

The Maltese Falcon

Laura

Gilda

Mildred Pierce

The Third Man

Sweet Smell of Success

Night and the City

Out of the Past

Niagara

In a Lonely Place

Pickup on South Street

Bad Day at Black Rock

The Harder They Fall

(and then if you decide you really like the vibes and wanna continue, any Robert Siodmak is a good choice)

DIRECTORS:

Billy Wilder:

I cannot stress how much this man’s filmography slaps. He made some of the QUINTESSENTIAL noir, Double Indemnity (1944) and Sunset Boulevard (1950) define the genre. The Lost Weekend and Ace in the Hole are both a little darker, they’re excellent. He’s also really fucking funny, Some Like it Hot (1959) is one of the most classic comedies ever made, though I wanna mention One, Two, Three as one of his lesser known gems. There’s also Witness for the Prosecution, Stalag 17, The Apartment, Sabrina— I cannot emphasize how much this man does not miss.

Orson Welles:

Yes, obviously Citizen Kane has merit, but it’s honestly not a great starting point. The Magnificent Ambersons is ALSO beloved, but I think he’s at his strongest AND most watchable in his noir: Touch of Evil (1958) and The Stranger (1946) are both brilliant

Ernst Lubitsch:

To Be or Not To Be (1942) may be a perfect film. The Shop Around the Corner (1940) is annual viewing for me. He’s all about clever romantic comedies: Design for Living, Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife, and Trouble in Paradise are also delightful.

Frank Capra:

It Happened One Night (1934) is a defining screwball. Capra is known for feel-good movies, some more dramatic (Mr. Smith Goes to Washington), some comedic (You Can’t Take it With You), but I personally never have more fun than when I watch the delightfully over the top Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

Alfred Hitchcock:

Good ol’ Alfie Hitch is a genre unto himself, I’ve seen 15 of his films at this point and I’m STILL missing major ones, so this won’t be balanced between what I like and notable classics, here are my completely subjective 4 favorite Hitchcock films! In order: The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) (he also made this film in 1934. Do not watch that one.), The Trouble with Harry (his only comedy!), Shadow of a Doubt (noir), and Rear Window (actually a classic Hitchcock film)

Joseph L. Mankiewicz:

ALL ABOUT EVE (1950)!!!!!!!!!! That’s essential viewing. I also really enjoy A Letter to Three Wives, No Way Out, and Somewhere in the Night (which is pure noir)

George Cukor:

The Philadelphia Story and Gaslight are both good, and two of his most lauded, but my favorite of his is UNDOUBTEDLY Holiday (1938)

John Huston:

I would be remiss not to mention him, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), The African Queen, and The Asphalt Jungle all come up when you talk film history

Howard Hawks:

I know I said I wouldn’t repeat any but seriously watch Bringing Up Baby (1938). He’s all over the place but he’s good at genre films: His Girl Friday, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, To Have and Have Not

MISCELLANEOUS:

It’s doesn’t really count as a classic because nobody has heard of it, but I highly recommend One Way Passage (1932)

Gene Kelly Musicals:

Anchors Aweigh

For Me and My Gal

Summer Stock

The Pirate (must a movie be GOOD?? is it not enough to be camp??)

Horror (goofy, the good stuff is overseas, watch Vampyr):

Cat People

Creature From the Black Lagoon

Bride of Frankenstein

Mystery of the Wax Museum

All The Best Christmas Movies Are Comedies From The 1940s:

Miracle on 34th Street

Christmas in Connecticut

Holiday Affair

I’m sorry if someone’s asked this before but do you have any vintage movie recommendations? Like what are your favorites

Yes I have tons! But I'm holding off posting them because I don't want to accidentally influence the bracket in any way. If I posted a list when the big tournaments are done, would anyone be interested?

[starrycollesta]

Sub Eddie x dom reader

Reader wants to try pegging Eddie agrees to try something new when they get started repeatedly hits his prostate gets pegged so hard that he can’t stop coming “mommyyyyy AHAHAHA can’t stop coming mommy pls make it stop *eyes crossed, tongue sticking out* (panting like a dog) you try to talk him back into reality because he was so deep into subspace to not know what’s going on around him.

Nipple play, mommy kink, rough play,choking kink, praise kink, prostate message, and pegging?

GOOD BOY | EDDIE MUNSON X DOM!READER

༅:*･ﾟﾟ･ paring: eddie munson x dom!reader

༅:*･ﾟﾟ･ words: 1,278

༅:*･���ﾟ･ synopsis: You ask Eddie if you can peg him, and he agrees.

༅:*･ﾟﾟ･ includes: pegging, praise kink, choking kink, rough play, mommy kink, prostate massage, nipple play, descriptive sex, smut, dacryphilia, sub space.

sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes | cross posted on AO3

"Eddie, wanna try something new?"

Eddie looks up at you with confusion on his face. He was currently laying his head on your lap. Your fingers ran themselves through Eddie's wild dark hair. You continue speaking, answering his unspoken question.

"New, as in sex wise." you watch his face quickly switch to understanding. He then grinned up at you, a cheeky remark on his tongue.

"Oh, baby, you don't even have to ask. You know I can take anything you give me."

You smile down at him, "Good. I was thinking we could try...pegging."

Eddie was confused again, judging by his scrunched eyebrows and pouty lips.

"What's pegging?" Eddie asked with genuine confusion. You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his naive question.

How could Eddie not know what pegging was? He was probably the kinkiest person you've ever encountered.

"Pegging, is where a woman fucks a man with a fake dick aka a strap on." you informed him, fingers still tangled in his hair, "How do you not know what pegging is?" you ask curiously.

Eddie looked up at you with intense brown eyes. A smirk formed on his full lips.

"Sweetheart, I've taken dick before but, they usually tend to be real, not fake." he shook his head and chuckled.

"Well Eddie, pegging is just like the real thing, minus the ejaculation part on the dildo's end." you said grinning, "So, you up for it Munson?"

Eddie grinned back up at you, "Oh, you know I am, baby."

-

You've been sitting on this "pegging my boyfriend" idea for a while, so you made sure to buy 3 different sized strap-on dildos and lube; you couldn't choose which one to get. First dildo was a smaller one for beginners, second one was a bit longer and girthier, and the third one was...huge.

It was 2 times the sizes of the first dildo and the second, combined. It had to be about 9 inches and scarily wide. It definitely couldn't fit in him, at least not without a long prep session.

It was to your surprise when you showed him the dildo's and he made no hesitation to choose the biggest dildo. In true Eddie fashion, he took your surprise in stride. You asked him if he was sure about his choice, to which he reassured you that he could take anything you put in him. You shrugged your shoulders and got to work.

You instructed him to strip, and he did so happily. You watched his every move as he stripped revealing more of his tattooed pale flesh until you were met with a naked slender body. He looked so perfect for you. His cock was already hard against his stomach and leaking with pre-cum.

You told him to lay on his stomach on the bed, face down and ass up, while you prepared the items for prep. You slipped on some plastic gloves and grabbed the lube. You squirted a generous amount on his hole and some on your gloved fingers. One by one, you stuck a finger in him, letting him adjust at the sudden intrusion. He responded by moaning in the pillows and curling his toes.

You continued to finger him open until he was completely gaping and ready for your cock. You grabbed the massive dildo and strapped it onto yourself. You shivered as the strap on the dildo grazed your clit when you moved. You stared down at Eddie's form and grasped your cock to get ready to fuck him.

Slowly, you pushed into him. He jolted forward and let out a cry, "Oh, fuck, mommy. That feels so fucking good...ugh yes."

You relished in his moans as you continued to push all the way into him until Eddie's ass consumed your strap. He always falls into sub space so quickly. You chuckled and gave his ass a harsh slap causing Eddie to grip the sheets tighter and curse.

"You like it when mommy fucks you like that, huh. You like being fucked like a good boy?" you grit your teeth and grip his hips harshly, then pound into him. You could feel your hips starting to burn but that didn't stop you. You drew your hips back and pushed them into his ass again. Loud slapping noises travelled throughout the room.

Whimpering brokenly, Eddie responds frantically, "Yeah...fucking yeah! fuck me harder, faster!"

You stop your thrusts momentarily and reach down to yank his head to you. He yelps in pain and surprise when his back is now pressed up against your boobs with your hand gripping his neck.

"Don't tell me what to do, toy. Now, why don't you shut up and lay on your back like a good little slut, hmm?" you scoffed passive aggressively into his ear then released the back of his neck, letting him flop back down on the mattress.

Eddie quickly scampered onto his back and watched your next move with lust filled eyes. You grip his thighs and put them on your shoulders then lined up your cock to his anus. You forcefully thrust in and watched with delight as Eddie threw his head back and yelled out. His bangs stuck to his forehead and his hair spread out wildly over the pillows. He looked so beautiful. Like a pretty little angel.

"Aww mommy, I'm gonna cum. I can't hold it. Oh my god, fuck!" Eddie looked up at you with tears in his dark eyes when you repeatedly hit his prostate madly. He wore a pained expression on his face. A part of you questioned if he was actually in pain but his moans reassured you that he was feeling really good.

You dropped his legs and reached down to tweak his nipples. He screamed the loudest scream you ever heard come from him. You continued to play with his nipples before having mercy on him and going back into your original position with his legs planted on your shoulders.

You continued your rough pursuit on Eddie's hole, ignoring the stinging in your legs. You constantly hit Eddie's prostate so you knew he couldn't hold back from cumming anymore.

"Go on, baby, cum." you commanded him. Eddie cries out and starts shaking wildly as you fuck him through his orgasm.

"Fuck, mommy! I can't stop cumming. It's too fucking much!" Eddie goes cross eyed, and his tongue falls out as cum shoots all over his chest. You speed up your thrusts when ropes of cum continues to shoot out of Eddie's red cock.

"That's it baby. Keep cumming for mommy. Such a good boy." you praise him as you thrust into him more. Eddie's eyes roll back painfully, and he pants like a dog.

"Mommy, make it stop! can't stop cumming. Ugh!" Eddie pleads for your help, but you ignore him. You’re giving him one of his longest and filthiest orgasms.

"Shhh, baby, it's ok. You're taking me so well." you try calming him down, but he starts thrashing wildly, crying out.

"Make it stop mommy..." he pleaded with droopy eyes staring back at you. He looked so tired and fucked out.

You thrust a few more times until finally the last drop of cum leaks out from Eddie. You drop his legs and fall onto the bed beside him, completely exhausted.

You both were laying on the bed, breathing heavy.

"You ok, Eddie?" you ask through the silence. You look over to him and watched as his chest heaved.

"Yeah. I can't believe I came that much..." he trailed off and let out an airy chuckle.

You smiled and chuckled back, "Yeah, me too. Cleaning you up is gonna be a bitch."

[angelkurenai]

Oh baby dear - Chris Evans x Reader

Title: Oh baby dear

Pairing: Chris Evans x Surrogate!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: After a trip that gives the chance to Chris to take a long-overdue break from his job, he comes back home with his mind made up to change his life. And even if it weren’t for the trip itself or meeting you, even though he had no idea if he’d ever see you again, he was determined to not wait any longer. Feeling ready to become a father he starts looking for a surrogate mother, only to end up finding you of all people.

“Son of a guy. You meant it.” brown eyes were wide, and for the first couple seconds no other sound could be heard in the room. It almost felt like the words could echo in the room.

“You're really doing this.” the man's voice was filled with just as much shock as was painted all over his face. At least the woman behind him was more calm, sipping on her drink with an ease that would have been troubling, especially in such a case, if it wasn't known that she had long ago heard the news.

“I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place if I wasn't seriously considering it.” the other man in the room couldn't take his eyes off his friend, trying to gauge his reaction the second it came through. It was bound to be the most honest one, no second thoughts, and he only needed his friends' honest thoughts. Not that, and he was sure of it, the other man would intentionally tell him anything but the truth.

“You- wow.” the shocked expression was still there but there was no mistaking the smile that was slowly but surely appearing on his face “Seems like Evans is finally joining the club, who'd have thought? That's what I call one heck of a year, quickly Scarlett note the date down! It's going to go down in the history books, I tell you. Oh you're in for one hell of a ride, buddy! Wait you knew about this, didn't you?” he turned to the woman but shook his head soon enough “Never mind. You're gonna have to look for a godmother but I do get to be the godfather, right? I really need to start making preparations, nine months are not even remotely enough. I gotta-”

“Take a deep breath and calm down, Robert. That's what you gotta do. Otherwise this kid won't get to meet its one-of-a-kind godfather. And we would never want that to happen, would we?” the woman interrupted his rambling, a teasing smile on her own lips as she noticed Chris himself chuckle.

“Oh goodness forbid that could ever happen.” Chris laughed some more, his chest feeling lighter than it had in the past couple days “And besides that, there has not been a surrogate found just yet. Papers got approved only a day ago, it will take more time than that.”

“You say that as if the second every woman finds out you're on that kind of market, won't volunteer to have your baby. Heck, I know most of them would gladly volunteer to do it the old-fashioned way! You'll see, you will be getting news very soon.” Robert brushed his friend off and got up from his seat, making his way to the mini bar to grab a drink for himself “Which means, I really gotta start preparing everything because a) this is Evans' kid and b) I'm the godfather and it'll get only the best!”

Scarlett couldn't help but laugh, while Chris shook his head with a chuckle, before she added “As you can see, he is going to be more trouble than the kid.” she ignored the look that was shot at her from Robert and kept going “But, speaking of it, I never asked: Did you never really consider adoption?”

“For most of the time that's what I had in mind, yes, but-” he sighed, easing back in his seat “I asked about it and my chances were sadly very low, given my job and everything, not to mention how lengthy of a process it all was. Sebastian was actually the one to suggest it and you know I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. Granted, it is just as hard to find a surrogate who is also willing to be the biological mother but I feel like I have more to hope for this way.”

“You have every reason to be hopeful, I'm sure this will work out just fine. Besides-” she offered her friend a warm smile “There is no other man that I can think of that could be a better father than you. This child will be very lucky.”

“...The part of Robert being the godfather excluded?” Chris added with a smirk, eyeing his friend who narrowed his eyes at him, before both Chris and Scarlett burst into laughter.

“Life isn't perfect, what can you do?” she grinned as she took a sip of her drink.

“I'll try to be the better man, as always, and not comment on any spiteful comments against me. You're just jealous I am going to be the world's best godfather. Anyway, that wasn't what I was going to comment on.” he plopped back on his seat and gave the blue-eyed man a sly smile “Sebastian you say but I'm wondering: was it him or that summer trip to Italy that really prompted you to become a dad? Maybe a certain someone you met there? What was her name...”

“Don't-” it was all he had time to get out, his eyes wide and voice very warning; but there was never any stopping the man when he wanted to speak his mind.

“Ah yes.” Robert grinned widely “(Y/n).”

“What- Who?” Scarlett frowned, tilting her head to the side “How come I haven't heard of her before? I thought you told me everything about Italy.”

“She's nobod-”

“Probably the love of his life. Something like his soulmate. One he talks about a lot in his sleep, hence why I should hold more parties and have you guys over. The info I get is golden. Anyway, think of it as the star-crossed lovers but one where he isn't the Lana Del Rey young and beautiful, you know? Heard she's something like a med or psych graduate or something. So come to think of it all, Italy, soulmates and age difference, this is like another version of Call me by your-”

“And that's it for you. Enough words spoken for one day.” Scarlett said, not hesitating a second to place a hand over the man's mouth who admittedly didn't give up even if his words were only an incoherent mumble after that.

Chris' eyes were wide and there was no mistaking the way he wanted to not talk about it, as if there was some unparalleled sadness that came with the mention of your name, a deep ache and at the same time yearning perhaps because he missed you, just like there was no mistaking the tint of pink that was on his cheeks.

“That's-” he cleared his throat, avoiding looking at his friends in the eyes because he knew how easy it would be to tell that even so many months later the feelings were fresh as much as the day he had to leave, the day he left a part of himself on the airport with you – a part he knew real well he wouldn't get back again, certainly not from any other woman he got to meet. That missing part of him, even if the rest held all the beautiful memories dearly to itself and felt truly blessed, he knew was obvious. It was all on his face that he was missing something, even if he'd gotten so much. And he knew she would see it, it all became so obvious when he thought of you.

He shook his head when he realized he had taken longer than needed to reply “It was way too long ago, I can hardly remember it now. Hell, as if barely anything happened to begin with. She was just-” a lump in his throat, too painful “I made a good friend, a really good friend yes, who helped me see my life in a different way. Helped me make my choice and see the things that really matter. Couldn't keep in contact and yes that's a bit sad but- That's all there is to it, nothing more nothing less.”

Scarlett regarded him for a couple seconds, even as he tried to keep himself busy with getting another drink, before she finally spoke “If you say so.” she nodded her head “At least we now know who we owe this to and who to thank for our family growing, don't we?”

“Then-” Robert's smile was softer, yet also sad, as he raised his glass a bit “Let's drink to that, if not your baby just yet. To (Y/n)?”

“To (Y/n).” Scarlett nodded her head “For helping you make the best decision of your life, wherever she may be now.”

Chris hesitated, the unspoken truth of you not only being the one to help him make the decision but also be part of that decision, part of the family he wanted to build, was ready to break free from his lips but he held it back “Wherever she may be.” he said in a low hoarse voice, raising his glass as well “To (Y/n).”

He had not allowed himself to say your name in a long time and thinking back to it, the effect had been evident not only in his chest, in his heartbeat, but also in his lips, how painfully strange it felt when all he had been doing was think about it for months to no end, down to his throat that closed up with emotion. And he had allowed himself to say it not only so that he would make sure his friends would drop the subject but also because it had been a long time, he felt the need to and he knew that he wouldn't get the chance to do so, not anytime soon for sure.

And yet, only seconds ago, the name had left his lips for the second time in barely a couple days.

His brain could barely keep up with the fact, all the information he had to currently process seemed to make things even harder. Saying your name this time certainly had the same effect, his throat closed up and his heart leaped to his throat, but it felt like it was for an entirely different reason. He blinked several times, trying to make sure that what he was seeing was also true, to make sure that it wasn't wishful thinking and that him holding his breath had not reduced the levels of oxygen to a point where he couldn't even see straight. Truth be told, he felt pretty lightheaded.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n).” he repeated your name for the third time, the third time in only a couple days his mind nearly screamed at him, but it didn't feel the same this time.

“Yes, I would say she seems like one of the most, if not the most, suitable candidate for you case.” the woman behind the desk gave him a warm smile but his brain was still currently stuck on the word 'candidate'.

“I'm sorry. There seems to be some misunderstanding here and I- I don't know whose part it is on, but-” he licked his lips, trying to swallow over the lump in his throat “When you say- What you're trying to say- I'm sorry.” he shook his head and let a couple seconds to pass in silence; he knew she wouldn't ask before him.

Taking a deep breath he decided to speak, even if his voice was hoarse he hoped she could make out the words “Candidate for what?”

The woman frowned a bit but it was gone faster than it could register, as she spoke in a calm voice “Your case. To be not only the surrogate you are looking for. See, her current, and according to her permanent from now on, residence is in New York City and very close to the residence you have listed as your permanent one. It is important, you understand, if we take into consideration that she will be the biological mother of the child. You might want the child to be able to stay in touch with her, and vice versa, so the close proximity does help. Of course that is always up to you, but in most cases we've seen it hap-”

“When did she sign up for this?” he asked, barely able to keep himself to wait for her to finish her sentence.

“Pardon?” she blinked and only then he realized how he might have sounded.

“You're right. I apologize, that came out as wrong.” he cleared his throat again “What I mean is... does she know who I am? That she- she's signing up to be a surrogate for my child.”

“Every surrogate must be informed, of course, of you as you are informed of her. She too must know whose child she will carry, don't you think it's fitting? But if you are uhm-” she hesitated “Concerned about other children, then, you need not worry. It's not my place to say this but it seems like-” she smiled a bit, almost knowingly “That you have already chosen, so I believe it wouldn't really be against any rule to say this. Consider it an extra bit of information.”

'Seems like you have already chosen.' would be a vast understatement. It was like every cell in his body was screaming 'Yes', chanting it over and over again that he was seriously worried he might have projected it somehow. He could barely control the words that came out of his lips anyway. If anything, the second he had come across the file with your name he had been glued to it, his eyes and all of his attention orbiting around the single file as if he was Earth and you were his Sun. Not far from the truth either.

But it also must have shown- No scratch that. He was sure it had shown because he had done no effort to hide it, too stunned and happy and eager and giddy and blessed and so many other things, to try to hide it. And she had clearly noticed.

“So, no, she has not mothered another child. As a matter of fact, Miss (Y/l/n) is doing this for the first time.” the woman leaned back in her chair “She came to us with the belief that there was too much sadness out there and, amongst other things, she decided to do this little one thing to help someone out. To make someone happy. I believe she didn't really have any further expectations out of this, no further plans, other than wanting to do some good. We only informed her of your case and she said she'd like to help, nothing else.” she shrugged softly “For any further reasons behind her choice you could ask her, I suppose. If you do think she could be the right choice to be the mother of your child, then-”

“She is.” he said, maybe a little too fast, but he didn't care. He didn't find a single part of him that cared for how eager he looked at the prospect of you being the mother of his child. Granted, it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it but it was so much more than he ever thought he'd get, of what he thought he deserved, when he had told you goodbye that summer.

He cleared his throat again, trying to straighten his back and look as formal as he should in the suit he was wearing. He offered her a small smile “She is the right one. I think I've decided. I-” he paused, glancing at the pile of files and therefore other candidates which he had absolutely not even taken a glimpse at and he hoped she wouldn't comment on it “I've thought things through, yes.” because no man could make such a decision so hastily, he knew, and yet he looked like he just had “I'm glad for all the candidates it means a lot but uhm Miss (Y/l/n) seems to be indeed the right one. I think she will do just fine yes.”

“Wonderful.” she smiled more, nodding her head “If it means anything, she seemed happy when she was presented with your case.” oh if only she knew just how much it really meant to him, ask his wildly-beating heart and everyone would know just how much “Now, you understand that while you seem pretty sure and confident with your choice, you will have to give it some more time, more than anything to get in touch with the surrogate herself and discuss through any specific terms you might have. We will be the ones to set a meeting. Of course there are legal issues that need to be taken care of, but you're a lawyer yourself so you probably know that better than anybody else already.”

“Y-yes uh of course, yes, legal terms. Mr Wilson will represent me on the matter of course. But you said-” he folded his hands over his lap and threaded his fingers and it was either that or let his nerves show “Meeting her? Will I get to meet her in person soon or...?”

“That, Mr Evans, is completely up to you, how ready and sure you are, how much time you need and how fast you want things to progress.” she said as if she'd had this conversation many times over and she probably had “It could be within a week, a month, or, if you have no doubts, within three days the soonest possible. So, do you need time to think over-”

“The soonest possible. I'd like-” he nodded his head, straightening his suit's jacket “I think it would be best if I could meet with her the soonest possible. She's just what I was looking for.”

[kiame-sama]

28 Years (5th Pregnancy)- Yandere!Silva x Reader

Warnings; yandere relationship, yandere tendencies, yandere behavior, yandere, mention of past trauma, pregnancy, c-section, more arguing, vasectomy, Zeno is so done with his son's bullshit

"No. We are not doing this again. I won't allow it!" "Hey, I told you how to fix this from ever happening again." "I did use protection. It clearly didn't work." "I didn't say 'use protection' did I? I said you should get a vasectomy since it's clear that regular protection and emergency medication doesn't work!" "I shouldn't have to-"

"ENOUGH!"

You and Silva fell silent at the firm and loud command from Zeno, looking over at the frustrated elder assassin. He happened to be holding young Alluka in his arms while the infant whined and cried from all the noise, compelling you to take the young child and set to comforting the infant. Alluka quickly quieted once in your grasp and allowed you to return your attention to the matter at hand, the new heartbeat that originated from within you.

You had been trying to avoid a third pregnancy given your prior back-to-back pregnancies and your already fragile health, yet here you were with another infant growing within you. You assumed something like this would happen, given your past attempts with contraceptives and how little they actually worked. Naturally, you suggested Silva have a vasectomy as it was not only a surefire way, but also a reversible surgery.

Originally, you suggested getting your tubes tied despite the danger that came with it but Silva quickly shot down the idea with his usual explanation of not wanting to lose you. Silva knew somewhere in him that the typical contraceptives wouldn't work, given the fact that he had used several similar methods to trigger a termination of prior pregnancies you were unaware of. He had hoped in some way that your body hadn't built up a resistance to them, but he also knew it was going to happen eventually.

He did plan on undergoing a vasectomy when you had first suggested it, but he quickly forgot about it in favor of getting to finally fuck you senseless now that your body had somewhat recovered after your most recent pregnancy. He had just been so relieved you were able to be brought back from your cardiac arrest following his mistake of once again taking your child away, and couldn't help himself from indulging in his favorite pass-time; fucking you. It was clear to everyone how addicted Silva was to you, in the way he would always return to your side after a job, how he would guard you jealously from anyone other than himself.

He was so whipped for you.

But now, you had a serious choice to make for your future and the future of the life already growing within you. It wasn't hard to guess what Silva wants to have happen, and some part of you agreed after enduring all that you had. Yet... You still felt that maternal connection already forming, wanting to protect all of your children from Silva, even the new child within you that had yet to take even a first breath.

"You're not keeping it." "Yes, I am." "No. I won't tolerate this again!" "Good thing you aren't the one who has to tolerate it. Last time I checked, its my body that goes through all the strain and effort of pregnancy, not your’s." "Are you doing this just to hurt yourself? To try and exhaust your body to the point of death?" "... Again, last time I checked, I wasn't the cause of my heart stopping." "..."

Silva stood silently, passive expression on his face as he wrestled with his own mind over the matter at hand. On one side, you were right; he was the reason he almost lost you, he's been the reason every single time. Even if it was complications during birth, it was still his fault entirely for getting you pregnant in the first place. On the other, he knew the immense toll another pregnancy will have on your body and the chances of you dying during birth increased with each one. The odds were not good.

It was then Silva spoke, his voice gentle and not at all like what you were expecting him to growl out with. It was the voice you scarcely heard on those far and few between days Silva would be truly gentle in every way, usually reserved for when he decided to honestly apologize to you for something. He was proud and cold, but there were those moments when that pride was set aside, when he would actually explain how he felt instead of leaving it at short sentences that never offered answers.

"(Y/n), don't do this again. Don't stubbornly hold on to this one. I know you already love it, as you love all of our children, and you will always fight for their safety no matter what, but for once you need to let me win. Let it go." "... If I say 'no', will you take it from me anyway?" "(Y/n)..." "Are you going to take my baby away from me again, Silva?" "..."

A soft sigh left Silva's lips as he frowned, knowing you were going to win the argument regardless of what he said or did. He knew he owed you more than he could give and there was no way he would force you to give the child up. If you truly wanted to keep it, he wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. Still didn't mean he had to like it.

"There is no sense in saying the obvious or telling you the risks you run having another baby so soon after your two prior pregnancies." "I know..."

Zeno hummed in a contemplative way, knowing Silva would refuse to go out on a job while you are pregnant and he had already refused to leave the Zoldyck estate in favor of keeping an eye on you. Given how intensely and fiercely he protected you, Zeno knew the immense toll the pregnancies have taken on Silva as well as you. But no one in the family wanted a repeat of the events that took place after Silva had taken Alluka away from you without telling you.

It was going to be a long eight months.

~~~~Four Months~~~~

"You need to sleep, (y/n)." "But what if something happens?" "Nothing is going to happen." "You don't know that..."

Silva frowned as he watched you pace in front of the couch in your shared rooms, chewing on your lip as you cradled your youngest in your arms. The child had already fallen asleep in your arms an hour ago, yet you still held on securely and refused to set your baby down for even a moment. Silva had seen the way you reacted to Illumi being taken and the subsequent over protective behavior you showed once you got him back in your arms.

Your behavior now was similar to how you behaved then, refusing to let your infant out of your sight to the point of impacting your health negatively. Silva knew you were reacting the way you were because of how he had managed to take Alluka from you in the first place. He had taken Alluka while you were sleeping even though you slept with the infant swaddled in a pile of blankets in your arms, so now you refused to sleep in fear Alluka would disappear from your arms once again.

Now he had to face the lasting consequences of his actions in the form of soothing you to the point of trusting him once more. It was going to take a while, however, as Silva had broken your already fragile trust yet again by stealing away your newborn, so it was unlikely he would be able to get you to trust him completely any time soon. Instead of the trust he once had, he had to watch you slip away into anxiety driven behavior due to his careless and selfish behavior.

It was driving him mad to watch you slip into such frenzied behavior, especially given the fact that you were enduring your third pregnancy in a row. Not only did you need sleep now more than ever, but you also had been refusing food in favor of feeding Alluka instead. It infuriated Silva to no end, as he had no choice but to let your anxious behavior play out until you calmed down once more. He wasn't going to chance doing anything that may be upsetting to you, but that also meant he wasn't going to force you to rest no matter how much he wanted to.

"At least sit down, (y/n)." "With you? No. No, not again." "I swear to you, I won't take-" "You've said that before, and it didn't stop you from taking Alluka away from me." "I'm aware I made a mistake, but I assure you-" "No."

It was going to be a long four months until you gave birth again and potentially trusted him once more.

~~~~Six Months~~~~

You hummed as you looked down at where your darling Alluka slept, curled up and held securely in the arms of Illumi. Silva had reached a breaking point when it came to your anxious and stressed behavior, deciding to allow Illumi to be by your side consistently so you would finally relax and get some much needed sleep. The presence of your eldest nearby did wonders to soothe you, trusting in your son to take care of his little sibling and keep Silva from stealing the infant away.

Though Silva disliked the fact that he had to share your attention and affection with his eldest son, the alternative was far worse in his opinion. You had gotten to the point of rarely sleeping so you could ensure Silva could not steal your baby away, draining yourself immensely in the process to the point you were not only rapidly losing weight, but you were becoming far less coordinated by the day. When enough was enough, he consulted his father on what his next step should be and the answer was obvious; let Illumi help take care of your wellbeing.

Your eldest practically jumped at the chance to spend unlimited amounts of time with you, not even perturbed by the fact that he had to take care of his youngest sibling. An extra cot was added into the bedroom, allowing Illumi to be present for around the clock assistance in child-care and to give you the added comfort of having your most trusted son nearby. You ensured to teach him how to properly hold an infant and how to soothe Alluka's fussing relatively quickly, only strengthening your motherly bond with Illumi by allowing you to put full faith in him with Alluka's well-being.

For once, Silva's plan worked like a charm. Not only did you finally start catching up on the rest you needed, you began to eat your meals with Illumi and therefore began to eat regularly once more. Along with your physical health, your mental health began to improve as well. You started smiling and talking more, resting with surprising ease in the arms of the very man you refused to so much as blink around only weeks prior.

Thanks to your teachings, Illumi was a rather brilliant nanny in your stead. Alluka would hardly make a peep when held in the comforting arms of Illumi and similarly, Illumi would make little to no noise while caring for his sibling. Even if he had more responsibilities with taking care of Alluka, Illumi wouldn't trade that time for anything in the world. He could spend time with you, talk with you, relax in your maternal love and affection.

Truly it was a win for all three of you. Alluka was always cared for. Illumi was finally able to spend more time with you. You were able to relax for the first time in who knows how long. Even Silva had relatively few losses, given how much more affectionate you were with him now you knew your infant was safe.

~~~~Eight Months~~~~

Silva paced outside of the delivery room, looking up almost every minute to check the time before resuming his endless pacing. He was much like a caged lion or bear, pacing just to pass the time and to do something other than sit still. He certainly was far more dangerous than any of those animals combined, only serving to add a rather pointed reminder to any doctor of what their fate would be should they fail.

But that was the whole purpose of this endeavor, to ensure nothing failed. Surely nothing could have gone wrong with all the precautions that were put into place.

Surely.

Either way, the long time it was taking only served to make Silva more anxious and his presence all the more intimidating. It in truth had only been a few hours since you went under so the doctors could perform a c-section to safely deliver what would be your fifth child. After the close calls with both Killua and Alluka as well as the fact this was your third back-to-back pregnancy, Silva wanted to take no chances with your life.

A c-section was how Killua and Alluka ultimately had to be delivered despite the fact you were able to have a 'typical' birth with Illumi and Milluki, so naturally it would only make sense for your fifth child to be delivered via c-section. It didn't sit well with Silva, however. Nothing would sit well with him until you were safely out of surgery and in his arms.

But what was taking so damn long?

"For fuck's sake, Silva, sit down. Pacing doesn't make it go faster and intimidating the doctors will only make it more likely for them to mess up." "Their lives are forfeit if they so much as make a single mistake." "And they know this. They've known this. All you're doing is adding another element no one wants to deal with."

Despite his father's chiding words, Silva continued to pace and glare at nothing in particular. Where it always seemed as if the man had a scowl on his face, it seemed ten times worse given he was actually scowling. The moment the door opened, Silva was pushing past the frightened doctor and into the room where his wife lay motionless.

For a moment, Silva felt an honest pang of fear in his chest when he saw you were not awake, the ever present beep of the EKG soothed him to know you were still alive and merely unconscious. The doctors all scattered like frightened rats, scurrying away from the intimidating mountain of a man who silently pulled up a chair, sitting by your side and refusing to take his eyes off of you.

Zeno, Maha, Milluki, and Illumi entered the room in a much calmer manner as they also came to stand around you. Alluka had been moved into Zeno's care given the impending delivery of the new addition to the family, and Illumi stood ready to receive the newborn and care for it while you recovered. Everyone had been preparing for the newborn in their own way, from the butlers ensuring the utmost safety to Zeno taking over Alluka's care, it seemed everything was finally prepared for and taken into account.

Meanwhile, in the past month, Silva had finally undergone a vasectomy so there would be no further chance of yet another pregnancy threatening your future with him. It was possible that it could be reversed and so it was the only surefire way no unexpected pregnancy would happen again. Where Silva felt he would have no reason to reverse the change since he already had five children, the option was always still available should something ever come up.

Perhaps finally there could be peace in the house. At least, peaceful enough no sudden pregnancy could threaten your life. Now all that needed to happen was getting the new infant out before Silva could finally have you all to himself once again.

He could wait. He could wait as long as he needed to. Because in the end, you would always be his.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

boys have cooties │ t. holland

pairing: middle school teacher!tom holland x middle school teacher!fem!reader warnings: like two or three curse words, kids, overall it's pretty much fluff. maybe some spelling mistakes. word count: 2k a/n: hi, hello. english isn't my first language, so please be kind. this is the first thing i've written in so long so i'm sorry if this sucks. gif ain't mine, creds to the owner!

"mr holland?" "yes, my friend?" he said, crouching so he could be eye level with little natalie. "do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, her pretty green eyes shining brightly. his mind immediately went to the gorgeous (y/e/c)-eyed girl who owned his heart.

"why do you ask that, friend?" he pulled a chair from the table next to him and sat in front of her. he watched as an adorable frown set on her face, cheeks flushing.

"yesterday i was playing in my room and my sissy was watching a movie with a boy. i wanted to watch tangled so i went to the living room and she was kissing him!" she said, banging her hands on the table as if it was the most scandalous thing she'd ever seen.

"really? and what did you do?" he asked, biting his lips and trying his hardest not to grin at the wholesomeness of it all.

"i screamed, and she was really mean, she told me to go to my room and leave her and her boyfriend alone. do boyfriends and girlfriends make you mean?"

"well, no. a boyfriend or girlfriend is supposed to bring out the best of you. i believe what happened was that maybe she was maybe a bit embarrassed about you seeing them together," he explained as carefully as he could to the six-year-old. he loved teaching little kids, but there were times like this when he had to try to put into simple words something as abstract as the concept of love and relationships. he wouldn't change it for the world, though. there was nothing like seeing the mesmerized expressions on each of their faces when they discovered something new together.

"okay. but i don't think i will ever have a boyfriend. because boys have cooties and germs." she said confidently. he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from his lips. little natalie pressed her hand against her mouth, giggling as if she'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

"natalie! boys don't have cooties." he tried to stop her from laughing, but her giggles only got louder.

"yes they do!" she continued laughing, only stopped when they heard a knock on the door. you walked in, in all your beautiful glory.

"hey ba-buuuddy," you played it cool when you noticed the small child sitting in front of Tom.

"hi, miss y/l/n!" natalie greeted you cheerfully. you gave them both a bright smile, "can you tell mr. holland that i'm right?"

"she's right," you said immediately, winking at her.

"so you agree that boys have cooties?" tom asked, lifting his eyebrows. you grabbed a chair and sat next to him, and grabbed his hand under the table. he interlocked his fingers with yours, squeezing them.

"duh! obviously!" you nodded, which only made the six-year-old to laugh even louder.

"i told you!" she said, pointing a finger at tom. you looked at him, scrunching your nose as you smiled.

"so does that mean i have cooties?" tom asked, his eyes darting between his young student and you.

"no!"

"yes!" you and natalie said at the same time. while the young girl denied it, you played along and accused your perfect boyfriend of having the childish disease.

tom stared at you with his mouth in a perfect o. the six-year-old's laugh could now be heard from outside of the room.

"i'm offended," tom said as he placed a hand on his chest, you chuckled and winked at him.

you were about to make another snarky comment when the loud bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

"saved by the bell," you said dropping his hand and standing up. tom's students began rushing into the room, surprised to see you there.

"miss y/l/n!" the kids cheered.

while tom preferred the joy of teaching new things to the littlest, you enjoyed the challenge of the eldest. your young age was definitely an advantage you had when it came to teaching. you knew the stress and anxiety that school could cause some of the kids and were always flexible with your assignments and your way of teaching. now on your third year as a teacher, you'd heard kids saying they could not wait until they reached fifth grade so they could have you as their teacher. it was safe to say everyone at school loved you. always kind, always giving the best advice, always having the best snacks.

"oh, my goodness! i am never leaving this classroom, you are the cutest little things in the entire world!" you said as they ran to you and hugged your legs.

"go away y/n, they're my kids," tom said faking hurt when he saw the lovestruck expression on the little ones' faces, but his heart fluttered when he saw how they loved you as much as he did.

"i think they love me more than they love you, tommy-boy," you said, a cheeky grin on your lips. he wanted nothing more than to kiss you senseless. but instead, he gasped, eyes widening as he looked around at the kids, some laughing, some ran to tom and hugged his legs as well, meanwhile the others stayed by your side and held you tighter.

"i've been betrayed, and by my own younglings." he dramatically fell to his knees and all the kids rushed to his side, saying how they loved him as much as they loved you.

"no!"

"we love you too, mr. holland!"

"i like miss y/n better."

"you two are my favorite teachers!" loud screeching filled the room, making you laugh.

"okay, kids. go show mr. holland your love, i've gotta go deal with my own munchkins. it was lovely to see you today, remember to drink water, make good choices and listen to tommy-boy here," you ruffled some heads and high-fived hands as you walked backward toward the door.

"alright everybody, let's thank miss y/l/n for stopping by. say goodbye and settle down," tom switched into teacher mode, and you felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you saw him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. biting your lip, you sent him a small wink as a new wave of voices filled the room.

"bye, miss y/l/n!"

"i love you!"

"come back soon!"

"can i go with you?"

"have a nice day!" you smiled and waved at them. giving tom a small nod and a knowing look, you rushed to your classroom at the end of the hall.

you loved your kids, messy and loud and moody.

when you walked into your room you saw most of them sitting and chatting with their own small cliques, but when they heard the sound of your shoes approaching some of them turned their heads to see you.

immediately, the loud voices filled the room.

"where were you?"

"can we watch a movie?"

"i need to use the restroom!"

"you're late!"

"yes, you can go to the restroom. no, we're not waching a movie today. yes, i know i'm late. i was in mr. holland's classroom visiting my favorite kids in the entire school" you answered, lifting an eyebrow and laughing when you saw their reactions.

"hey!"

"not cool!"

"i like him better anyways"

you continued to laugh as you moved your hands, finally getting them to quiet down.

"that, ladies and gents, was a joke. i was kidding. i wouldn't trade my babies for anything in the world" you said as you sat on your desk, folding your legs underneath you.

"miss y/l/n?" a girl raised her arm, you looked up

"yes, alice?"

"i saw you and mr. holland in the morning, you were holding hands." she said, cheeky grin on her face.

"oooooohhhh, miss y/l/n has a boyfriend!" shouting began again. you tried your hardest to suppress the smile that was threatening to settle on your face. instead you bit your lip hard.

"you woke up and chose violence today, alice," you admitted, making them all laugh. "mr. holland and i are just friends, my babies." you said, knowing how they hated when you called them that. "now, we've already lost too much time, let's get to work. everybody take out your books and-"

-------

at the end of the school day, you stayed behind sorting through papers and planning your classes for next week. when you finished, you put your things away, grabbing some papers you needed to grade and putting them in your bag. a knock on the door grabbed your attention.

"hey, baby," you greeted tom. he walked to you, threw his arm around your neck and pressed a kiss on the side of your temple.

"you ready, darling?" he asked, taking your bag from you with his right hand and grabbing your own with his left one. you nodded, lifting your joined hands and kissing his knuckles. you noticed the way his cheeks flushed pink. and it warmed your heart knowing even the simple gestures still made sparks fly between you two after years of being together.

"yes, mr. holland," you teased, locking the door behind you, interlocking your fingers with his again.

"took me a while to quiet them down after your visit, wouldn't stop talking about you," he squeezed your hand, making you grin.

"oh, you should've heard my kids. alice saw us holding hands in the morning. they think you're my boyfriend." you lifted an eyebrow. letting go of his hand when you reached his range rover. the parking lot was now empty. he opened the door for you, you climbed in the passenger seat as he put your handbag and his own backpack in the backseat.

"really?" he asked, you hummed in response. you moved so you were facing him standing outside. he placed his hands on your thighs, your hands immediately finding his. "if they only knew..." he said, letting go of one of your hands, his fingers traveled to your neck, under the collar of your shirt, and toyed with the delicate gold chain around your skin. he lifted the chain, a sparkly diamond ring sitting there like a charm.

"if they only knew..." you repeated his words, hands traveling to his face, cupping his cheeks. your thumb played with lips and he moved his head to kiss it.

"when do you think we should tell them?" he asked, leaning down, resting his forehead against yours, noses brushing together.

"i don't know. they're gonna lose their shit when they find out," you chuckled, earning one from him as well. "we'll have to tell them before the wedding, though. otherwise, my kids will feel betrayed. they're already mad because i told them i'll be gone for a month."

"but it'll be during the summer holidays," he frowned, a beautiful smile forming on his lips.

"i know, that's what i said. apparently, they still think i live in the school." you shook your head, laughing.

"i can't wait until we have our own little ones," he admitted, hiding his face on your neck, fingers still playing with the ring that he gave you almost a year ago on your two-year anniversary. you smiled, your arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"me neither, then they'll really lose their shit. can you imagine?" you giggled as you felt his warm breath hit your sensitive skin behind your ear.

"i love you so much." he said, pressing small kisses on your neck, traveling up to your jaw, your cheek, and finally your lips. your thumbs tracing invisible circles on his cheek as his lips met yours.

"i love you, too. so, so much." your hands moved to his hair, fingers running through soft curls. "now, take me home, mr. holland. your fiance is getting hungry." you both chuckled, hands finally letting of eachother, you settled in your seat as he gave your lips a small peck before closing your door.

"how's mcdonald's sound?" he asked when he climbed in the driver's seat, starting the car. like magnets, your hands met halfway and you rested your arms on the console between you two.

"with you, everything sounds perfect." you admitted, meeting his bright brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when he heard the words you spoke. he lifted your joined hands and kissed your knuckles, once, twice. all the way until forever.

[iwadori]

Can you write a pure angst, using 10 and 35 please ( Idc about the characters ) :)

Getting hurt with the haikyu boys part 3 (Iwaizumi)

Part one Part Two Part three

Word count: 2.8K

Genre: pure angst

Authors Note: I am sorry for just how shit it is lol. I had an idea and it kind of got worse as it went along but I hope you like it anyways.

You were pregnant.  

You wanted to cry.  

You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant before you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.

Iwaizumi first approached you at your job, some shitty dinner that only paid you enough so you can make ends meet. You could tell he had money, the way he dressed, his demeanor even the way he talked. ‘What was a man like this doing here?’ you thought.  

Apparently, he’s seen you around for a while, your city was small you’d only really leave this place if you had a fair god mother or died and of course you are clearly alive and don’t have a fairy god mother...until you met him.

He ordered a coffee, didn’t drink it though (probably knowing that your boss spat it in whenever he was in a bad mood or because he just needed an excuse to be around) just waiting for you to finish your break. You sat in a corner booth for ‘privacy,’ not that anybody was even in the place.  

“My names Iwaizumi Hajime” he said keeping a blank facial expression  

“What do you wan-”

“Miss L/N, I think I’ll do the talking here. Okay?” he said with a smirk appearing on his face after seeing your slightly shocked face when he revealed knowing your last name.

“I’ve seen you around for a while now, you’re beautiful you know that right?” he said making your cheeks heat up a bit. “Anyways, I think you’re gorgeous and a man like me needs a pretty girl like you on his arms. By the lack of response to my name, I assume you don’t know who I am...but I guess that works in my favour”

Your face is getting bored by the second not really listening as he rambles on about himself, “I need you to be on my arm every night that I go out to one of my boring business meetings.”  

“Business meetings?” you ask  

“You know, a bunch of ‘business’ people go out and talk ‘business’ together.” he said sarcastically as if you were stupid.

“I know that, I just thought you’d elaborate about it.” You sighed “What do I get out of this?”

“Finally, you’ve gotten to the interesting part, you my dear get money and lots of It” he says finally catching your attention “I’ll pay you 1 million Yen per night, and all your dresses, outfits and expenses will be paid for so you won’t have to worry your pretty little head about finances again” he ‘smiled’ at you.

“What's the catch?” squinting your eyes  

“The catch is just that you have to accompany me to all my events.... and you have to stay in my condo.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry dear, it’s a nice place” interrupting you “probably better than any shithole you live in”

“Fine, fine” his words were convincing you “Is there a contract you have for me to sign?” you ask wanting to at least be somewhat ‘protected.’

“No contract, just this verbal agreement. Between me and you right here right now.” he winked “so you’re in agreement of our arrangement?”

“Yes.”

That was your first mistake believing Iwaizumi Hajime.

Sure you could defend yourself now and say ‘I was poor and in need of help’ but you’d know it would just be you in denial talking.  

The first time you attended a meeting with Iwaizumi, you came home from quitting your job since Iwaizumi said ‘you’re on my payroll now.’ You found a beautiful red dress laying on your bed accompanied with shoes and accessories and note saying, ‘I trust you to be able to do your own hair and make up my dear – I.H’

You didn’t have any family, or any friends. Most people that have had even a single encounter with you have deemed you to be ‘Not Likeable’ saying you’re not a people person or just lack any sociability. You were stuck in this town because of the debt your father has left you in before he supposedly ‘passed’ away. Leaving you drowning in all his financial woes, meaning you couldn’t go to university or become a professional *insert dream job here* like you wanted to be.

When you exited your building, you saw Iwaizumi leaning against a flashy car parked outside. “You chariot awaits m’lady” he says with a cheeky grin on his face making you roll your eyes. You got in the car and he started driving, humming along to a random song slightly agitating you.

“So, when are you moving to my place? It’s a part of the agreement.” he said in a sing song voice in the tune of what he was humming.  

Iwaizumi reminded you of JD from heathers, he was nice when he wanted but he did have a screw loose that was triggered when things didn’t go his way. Like a small child who didn’t get the toy he wanted when he had a million other toys.  

Him being the child. You being the toy.

“Our agreement is bullshit, just verbal.” you say mockingly “remember?”

“don’t start with me Y/N I'm not in a pleasant mood today” he says gritting his teeth “and I don’t need you fucking with me tonight.”

He puts his hand on your thigh, a little too harshly making you internally wince. “Okay here’s the rules for the night. You stay on my side for the night, only speak when spoken too, don’t drink too much since no one likes an alcoholic of course.”

“Oh, so all I need to do is sit pretty like a good little girl.” you say sarcastically

“Precisely” he lessens the grip on your thigh making you breathe in relief.  

The event was boring to say the least, you did as Iwaizumi said stood next to him with a fake smile plastered on your face all through the night. You’re sure that people did ask you questions, but you were in your own little world only stepping out of it when Iwaizumi either pinched your arm or gripped your thigh.

The end of the night was ‘eventful’ to say the least, before you entered the car a hand wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into a back alley. “We couldn’t end the night so boring, could we?” it was Iwaizumi, of course it was.

He started peppering your neck with kisses and roaming his hands all over your body. He eventually trailed the kisses from your neck to your lips, leading you both into a full blown make out session. It was fast and you couldn’t really think straight. Iwaizumi was getting a bit too forceful, gripping and kissing harder than he needed to, leaving marks as if to say ‘you’re mine now.’

That was your second mistake. Getting sexual with Iwaizumi Hajime.

He said you had to go back to his house which was basically now yours. You complied, obviously had no other choice since he didn’t offer or ask. He told you too.

Waking up in the Iwaizumi residence was an ‘experience.’ Iwaizumi wanted you awake when he was awake and asleep when he was, never giving you a moment too yourself. You swiftly came to the learn of the reason why he wanted you in his ‘care’ (as he called it anyways) he wanted his eyes on you all the time.

You carried on attending the events bored out of your mind and the nights went the same way. Fancy dress, long car ride, not paying attention, getting fucked in the back alley then sleep in Iwaizumi’s expensive silk sheets.

You didn’t know much about Iwaizumi besides what you could find. In the day time, Iwaizumi spends it cooped up in his office whilst giving you the ‘permission’ to roam around the house. Iwaizumi kept all his important stuff in a small box under a creepy floorboard in his basement original idea I know. All the information in there was just stuff about generic stuff about his childhood. Him being brought up into wealth, how much he weighed as a baby and all the allergies and boring shit that he had.

Iwaizumi Hajime was an enigma.

You and Iwaizumi did get along. Sometimes. You did do things that weren’t strictly fucking and going to business meetings. He took you on what you could only be able to describe as dates, and outings showing you off to all his actual friends. That’s when you learnt the difference of the ‘two’ men, Iwaizumi and Hajime.

Although they were the same person by name, Iwaizumi was rough around the edges and cold at heart not caring about you at all. Hajime, whilst still being rough around the edges, basically made you out to be his girlfriend giving you the love and care you needed. You really liked the times when you were with Hajime.

That was your third mistake, falling in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.

As things progressed, your quality of life seemed to dwindle (not that it was great in the first place.) Iwaizumi was barely in the house, claiming that for these particular ‘business meetings’ he didn’t need you.

On one night, a simple phone call definitely changed your whole dynamic.

“Yes babe, I’m coming over tomorrow I can’t wait to see you and the girls again.” he said to the other person on the phone.

“Why do you question my love for you, of course I love you.” he said again

“I love you, the girls even the dumb dog that Haru forced me to get for her 8th birthday I love. You guys are my family. My lovely wife and out girls”

Your stomach churned, you backed out of the hallway that you were in. He had a family, of course he had a family. You went into the guest room, where you kept all your things, you couldn’t do this anymore. Although you pretty much lost all your morals when you formed this whole agreement but you refuse to sleep with a married man with kids. You couldn’t. Being the reason why a family might break up is something you wouldn’t ever do.

Iwaizumi heard all your commotion and entered the guess “Woah darling who’s moving out?” he asked jokingly  

“Hmm probably your wife and kids, after they realise their husband is a CHEATER!” you spat

“Woah, woah Y/N” he said getting closer to you “You don’t know what the fuck you’re on about”

“I think I know pretty well; you’ve always been a pompous ass Iwaizumi; it was my bad for thinking that you weren’t married throughout all of this.” You finished packing up as much close as you possible can and headed out the room.

“You need to watch your mouth Y/N” he says aggressively  

“Or what Iwaizumi, or should I say Hajime” you shout “Or is that only reserved for your WIFE!”

This seem to really tick him off, “You don’t know anything Y/N, you really think I could love a dirty slut like you? Huh? Well, I didn’t know that you were important enough to be able to know the details of my personal life.”

“I'm not a slut” you mumbled. Which was completely true, Iwaizumi didn’t notice that the first time you slept together was the first time that you slept with anyone.

“repeat that again for me y/n?” he said mockingly

“IM NOT A SLUT!” you shout in his face

“You are what I say you are darling”

“Fuck you.” You try and push past him hard, to get out the house but you’re no match against his anger and brute strength. So, when he slams you against the wall, he banging your head. Leaving you concussed and bleeding. Before you completely pass out all you hear is a repetition of Iwaizumi Hajime murmuring “I'm sorry, I’m sorry” whilst wrapping his arms around your comatose body.

You woke up, thinking that was all a dream but the ache in the back of your head proved otherwise.  

“Y/N, darling your awake!” he said making you flinch

You moved away from him when he sat on your bed looking at you with ‘love’ and ‘care’ in his eyes. He goes to stroke your cheek whispering “you’re so be-”

“Fuck off” you say. That bang to the head was a wakeup call literally reminding you of all the hot and cold moments you had with Iwaizumi that you submerged into your head for the sole reason of ‘wanting to be happy.’ But you weren’t happy. Deep down you knew that.

“But y/n, darling I love you.” he said and you closed your eyes shut wanting to tune him out “I love you Y/N.”

“You don’t" you replied back harshly with your eyes still shut tightly

“But I do Y/N, I love you” he repeated the ‘I love you’s’ over and over making you want to scream out in frustation.

“Shut up!” you yelled “You don’t love me, stop saying that” your head throbbing with every word “Just stop. Make it stop! Kill me if you have to! Just make it stop” you say thumping at Iwaizumi’s chest becoming a hysterical crying mess. You weren’t talking about the physical paint he caused you (even though that hurt ALOT) you were talking about the constant heartache it was just being around him.

He didn’t know what to do. So, he just put his arms round you again and you yelled your frustrations about him to him into his chest.

You woke up into a new place, not your old one or Iwaizumis just something brand new.  

With a note on your bed side table saying:

‘I love you and I’m sorry’

Making you tear it up and toss it out.

You had no further contact with Iwaizumi, you figured that the new house you lived in was already paid for, but you didn’t want Iwaizumi to show up one day saying that you owed him money so you decided to get a job. A small one, that didn’t require any strenuous Labour or heavy shift times.

It was a few weeks after Iwaizumi left you and you felt sick and heartbroken. After finishing your shift at your job you felt hot headed and extremely ill making you run to your toilet to spill out your guts.

Which lead you to your predicament now.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.  

You wanted to cry.  

You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant befonhre you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.

You didn’t know what to do. There was only thing you could do, but you certainly didn’t want that. ‘Call him’ the voice in your head urged. ‘That would be the best option right?’ you thought ‘I mean he did love you afterall...’

It took a whole day of pacing around and wondering on what you should do. But you knew that leaving the situation longer would only make it worse. So you kept his business card on you when he gave it to you since that was the only phone number you had. He was all you actually had.

You called and the phone rang 4 times, your heart beating faster and faster as it rang.

“He-”

“Hello this is Sakura Iwaizumi speaking” a feminine voice said “Who is calling?” you hear someone say in the background. ‘Iwaizumi’ you thought, your face smiling. You realised you haven’t responded so you rushed out  

“I’m Y/N L/N, I need to speak with Iwaizumi.”

“Haji dear, there's a girl on the phone for you... someone of the name called Y/N L/N”

You heard muffles in the background and Iwaizumi saying “Just hang up the phone she’s not worth it.” Your heart stung ‘She’s not worth it.’ Did he really mean that? As much as you claim to hate him, you didn’t really. As you’ve said before you always liked his loving and caring side over his cold hearted one.

You put the phone down and just cried, wailing your heart out for him. Why? You don’t really know to be honest. This was all a dumb agreement, he used you because he was bored and he probably already knew you were pregnant from when he gave you that concussion. But ‘he doesn’t want you’ you reminded yourself because ‘I’m not worth it.’

AUTHORS NOTE: once again, i’m sorry lol. But im most likely going to do a part two of my ‘long shot’ series with Akaashi or a character of your choosing. 

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

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

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

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

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “As in bi-curious?”

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

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

    ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

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

  He’s lying. You can tell.

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

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

  He’s angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

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

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

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

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

  “Tell you what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

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

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

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

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

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

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

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

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

  “You’re bossy today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

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

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

        ||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Thank you.”

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

  “Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

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

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

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

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

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

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

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

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

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

  “Last time you said that…”

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

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

  “What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

  “Who is it?”

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

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

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

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

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

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

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

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

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

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

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yoongi, what-“

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

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

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

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

   Brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Why not?”

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

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

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

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

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

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

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

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

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

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

   ||\\

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

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

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

  No. He promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m sorry.”

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

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

  “What, now? Y/N-“

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

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

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

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

  “H-How come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

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

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “My place.”

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

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

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

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

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

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

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

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

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

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

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

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

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

  “Not even then.”

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

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

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

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

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

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

  Alright. Great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “B-But the protocol-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

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

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

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

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

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

  “So you rebelled?”

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

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

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

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

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

  “Because of the devil, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

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

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

  “Then why?”

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

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

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

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

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

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

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

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

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

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

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

  “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

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

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Can we go home, please?”

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

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

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

[20moonchild21]

𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝗹𝗱? [𝗸𝗻𝗷]

⇉ 𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁

[pairing]

Kim Namjoon x female!reader, Idol!Namjoon x wife!reader

[warnings]

none, just fluff

[words]

1.3k

[author]

No new chapter of 𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 this week. I am so so sorry, but I really couldn’t find the time to write a new chapter. I want to do that properly and not under pressure. I hope you can understand.

My exams will be over next week, and then I definitely will be back with 𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 💪🏼😌 Until then, I hope you like to read this cute oneshot. I had it saved on my computer but never uploaded it.

I also got a lot of messages recently that people would love to leave a message more often (not just under my chapters) but are too scared to make mistakes. English is also not my native language, and I am a 100% sure that I also make a lot of mistakes while writing. But believe me, no one cares if you do a grammar mistakes or if miss a letter. It’s so important to always be brave and speak/write a foreign language, even if that means to make mistakes. That’s the only way to improve your skills. Your message will always be heard as long as you are brave enough and express yourself 💜 it’s no shame to do mistakes.

Enjoy reading and stay healthy

Mꨄ

You watched as your husband, Namjoon, carefully slide his big hand over your baby bump, lifting his hand from time to time to push his half round glasses up the bridge of his nose , and resting them back onto you tummy. In his other hand, he was holding one of his favourite books, flickering the pages, while you were just checking your phone for new baby clothes.

You had never believed your friends how crazy you could get over some small baby clothes until you had become pregnant the first time. It was just so breath-taking to hold those tiny, little pieces of clothing in you much bigger hand, knowing that soon there would be a tiny human wearing them. But as excited as you were for your third baby to arrive, you also knew that from that moment your life would become even more stressful.

Just like the end of that stressful week that finally had ended for the both of you. Being pregnant with your third child sometimes made it hard for your body to give it’s full energy all day long, leaving you often exhausted and powerless. Especially, when there also were two other small toddlers running around the house and making a mess out of it.

You loved your both daughters endlessly. From the first moment you had held their tiny bodies in your arms, you had been falling in love every day again. But despite all aspects you loved about you two children, you sometimes wished that they would not have their father’s energy and urge to move. They could run around the apartment for hours, they could play hide and seek round after round after round, and they definitely could never get tired of braiding your hair or painting your nails all day long.

You couldn’t even blame them. After all, they were you a couple of years old. They were just trying to learn about the world around them, not understanding that your body was occupied with growing another living being.

In such moments, you were just more than relieved that you had your wonderful husband Namjoon by your side. Even though with his sometimes hectical idol life, he had always managed and made sure to support your whenever he could. He would go shopping for you when your feet had felt swollen and heavy, he would play with your two daughters in the living room when you had felt tired and exhausted, or he would just do simple things like giving you a nice message with his big hands whenever your back had hurt.

Totally absorbed in the thoughts about your husband, you didn’t noticed that you had been staring at him from the side all the time.

“See something you like, pretty girl.” He asked in his deep voice, before turning his head to look at you. His right hand never left your baby bump.

“Yes, that lamp over there at the drawer looks pretty nice.” You mumbled, leaning your elbow on the armrest of the sofa and placing your head on your hand, looking lovely at the boy in front of you.

Namjoon turned his head to look at the lamp behind him, before he looked back at you and began to chuckle slightly. Seeing his beautiful dimples and cute cringles left you no other choice but joining in into his laughers.

Most people said that those small moments with each other would get lost once you are married and once you have children, but your relationship had never been affected by that. You had always found way to take time for just the two of you, even if it only had been a meal you both created together.

“By the way, I have to tell you something.” He suddenly closed his book and looked excitingly in your way. “Do you remember that set of plates we found a few weeks ago, but they were already sold out when we wanted to order them? I stumbled over them again this morning, and they were available again. I hope you still want them, because I ordered them as soon as I saw that advertisement.”

You gasped in surprise. When the two of you had found out that you would expect another child, you had decided to finally muck out all that old stuff that you had kept from years ago. The kitchen was your current task to finish. You had found that new set of plates a few weeks ago and immediately, you had fallen in love with it, as well as Namjoon.

“Are you for sure?” You smiled at him, lifting your hands to give your husband a strong high five. “That’s freaking amazing. You are the best, yeobo (honey).”

Namjoon laughed again when you used the softened form of your expletive that you would also you use in front of your daughters. He carefully put his hand back on your swollen bump, leaning over to give you a kiss on the forehead, before turning his attention back towards his book.

The room fell in a comfortable silence again, as you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. It made you proud that your husband was so ambitious and caring about making yourselves a real home. Most people would believe that with his job, he would be more than occupied with himself rather than with your family but luckily, it was quite the opposite.

“Aein.” The sudden movement of your husband made you lift your head from his shoulder, watching as his closed his book, before he looked down at you with a somehow shocked expression. “Did we – did we just get excited about a set of – plates?”

Confused, you kept looking on your husband with wide eyes, trying to bring his words and actions together, until it finally hit you.

“Oh my god. Yes we did.” You whispered in shock, sitting up straight. “We just got excited about a set of plates. What did just happen.”

With your hand still placed on his chest, you both kept looking at each other. Namjoon and you had been together for more that 5 years now, but you had known each other for countless years before. You had been through high school together, and you had definitely been through some adventures and crazy times together.

Those teenager-times had gone by and the both of you had come together. You both had built up a strong relationship, even though you both had to manage your careers meanwhile. But that never meant that you had become boring in some way. Sneaking out at the dorms at night or wild make-out scenarios during his dance breaks had only been two examples of how you had developed together.

Even more year had went by and suddenly, you had become pregnant, bringing both, Namjoon and you, over the moon. That had been the moment you had finally grown up fully together, which was exactly the situation you found yourselves in right now, getting excited over a set of plates.

Meanwhile, Namjoon had broken away from his shock stare. He carefully took your hand away from his chest and brought it up towards his mouth, placing a big kiss on the soft skin.

“Oh my love.” He mumbled, lifting his gaze to meat yours. “I think we are getting old, hm?”

Even though such a realisation was hard to do, it somehow felt right to start that mew chapter in your lives together. Even though if that meant to be excited about a bunch of plates.

“It seems so.” You whispered back, leaning forward until your forehead were touching. “Next time we will get excited is about our new dentures.”

Namjoon chuckled slightly, before bending down to kiss your lips.

“As long as you are by my side when I get those dentures, I will always be excited about it.”

[savoies]

Things Changed - Pierre Luc Dubois.

Summary: Neighbors to lovers.

Word count: hopefully 1.6k

Warnings: hints of angst, a few bad words, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Since I have a cute new neighbor I thought why not use the neighbors to lovers trope to live out all my fantasies. I had a lot of fun writing this with the help of a few close people so enjoy! (not proofread)

taglist: @hartsyhart​ ​ @nhlpetey​ @mitch-slap​ @frostythegoalman​ @ryanssuzuki​  @aria253264​ ​  @josty​ ​ @kaitieskidmore1​ ​ @kiedhara​ ​ @laurenairay​ ​ @teenagekook​ ​ ​ @alxvlasic​ ​ ​ @hockeyallthetime​ ​ ​ @barzy-baby​ ​ ​ @officialgritty​ ​ @bowenbyram​ ​ @mems06​ ​ ​ @joshsandersons​ ​  @connormcdavo​ @maattamatthews​ ​ @pierreslucdubois​ ​ ​ @selenophileangel​ @boqvistsbabe​ @ana-maa​ @stars-canucks​

tagging some friends: @npatrickz @beauvibaby @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy @2manytabsopen​

(*credit to gif owner*)

Y/N had recently moved to Canada seven months ago and honestly it was going just fine. Nothing major had happened other than wanting a change of pace and well she had gotten it. Well at least the most change her dog and her could get.

Today was a nice day so she decided why not head to the dog park that was connected to the apartment complex and just spend all day there. What she did not suspect was running into a cute stranger who happened to be her neighbor from a few doors down. 

Pierre had come to the dog park well to see the dogs. After the trade from Ohio to Winnipeg he decided that it was best to leave his dogs with his mom until he got settled in. He probably thought that most people would find a broading 6′ 3″ man sitting on a bench creepy but honestly he couldn't care less because the smile the dogs provided him as they ran by was worth the stares.

"Brody! Brody come back here." Y/N yelled as her dog ran across the yard in and around anything he could get through. As her dog ran up to a cute stranger sitting on a bench she couldn't mutter enough curse words to process why this was happening now and today. 

"I am so sorry about him, it's just we don't get out much." She replied and mentally shook her head, not understanding why she had to explain herself to a complete stranger.

"Oh it's totally okay, I love dogs. I actually have two but they are back at home. This might seem kind of straight forward but if you ever need a dog sitter I can offer my services." Pierre smiled at the dog and stranger in front of him.

Y/N knew that she shouldnt take up the offer but with work and life and a cute stranger who seemed actually genuine she threw away mostly all her morals and said why the fuck not.

"Really, that would be really helpful. I'm not sure if I should tell you my apartment number now or after I find out you're a murderer." She looked up at him. After assuring her that he was indeed not a murderer and just a normal guy who loved dogs they traded numbers and apartment info. I guess after all the dog park was worth it.

The First Time.

The first time Pierre earned his title of dog sitter was when you went away for a work conference. It had been three days. Honestly you were quite nervous since you had never really left your dog with anyone other than your family but after hanging out with him so often you felt like it was okay.

"Brody say bye to your mom, we are gonna have so much fun without her huh." He said as he led Brody into the living room and waited for you to give any special instructions.

"Pierre thank you so much for doing this. I want him the same way as when I left him." You hugged him as you said your goodbyes and gathered your things to head off to the airport for your departure. 

"Have some faith in me Y/N." He said as he closed the door and watched netflix with the dog cuddling into his side. 

The Second Time.

A family emergency had presented itself and as much as you wanted to take Brody with you you just knew it wasn't the best choice. Pierre had come over a few times to "spend time with Brody." Even though most of the time was spent joking around and talking about each other's week.

You had got the call when Pierre was over. Both of you sprawled out on the cold tiled floor. "Hello?" You answered as someone quickly informed you on what was going on. "Wait what, uhm yeah I'll go back home right now." You said as you hung up and quickly sprang up to your feet to pack.

"Pierre I know you're busy and you can say no but can you watch Brody, a family emergency has come up." You spoke hastily.

"Yeah of course, everything ok?" He asked worried.

"No but hopefully soon." You gave him a soft smile as you said your goodbyes and rushed out your apartment door.

The Third Time.

The third time was different. Not necessarily an emergency but mostly a way to make sure that your dog was okay for a few hours. Or at least not alone and spending it with one of his favorite people aside from you. You had gone out to a club with some coworkers and had dropped off Brody at Pierres earlier in the day. Of course you asked if he was busy and he said he had to catch up on some work so that's the only reason you really asked him to. You knew he had a life aside from your dog sitting escapades. 

Later on in the night as you arrived home with a guest you had asked him to wait by the door as you went to go pick up Brody from a few doors down. It was late and maybe you should have just done it in the morning.  But your mind being hazy with the few drinks from earlier didn't think about Pld being asleep and you knocked before you could stop yourself.

Pierre was slowly drifting off to sleep with thoughts of you in his head. How he had to adapt to this new city which he barely knew anything about but since you had come into his life everything seemed somewhat easier. 

There was a soft knock on his door and as he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes he walked up to the door with Brody close by to his feet and he saw you. "Y/N hey what are you doing here?" He asked confused on why you were here at one in the morning.

"Just here to pick up Brody." You smiled at him as he looked towards your apartment and his smile dropped as he saw the random dude standing in front of your door awkwardly. 

 He knew he shouldn't be making a big deal out of it. You guys weren't anything in the first place. But Pierre couldn't help what he felt towards you.

"You okay?" He asked before letting you head back.

"Yeah, I'll see you soon." You said as you walked away. 

After that things weren't the same. You could sense it. After getting the stranger out your bed you cleaned up and headed over to Pierres for your weekly brunch hang out but he didn't answer. That wasn't what made you realize that it wasn't the same. I mean you knew he had a busy life. Maybe it was the way that every time there was a knock on your door you were hoping it was Pierre hoping to "hang out with Brody" but it never was.

Or maybe it was that he was ignoring you. It had been a week since you had last seen him and as you walked to the elevator you tried to rack your mind with what you could've done to upset him.

As you reached the elevator there stood the boy that you so much wanted to see. Pierre rolled his eyes as you arrived, having deliberately been avoiding you for a full week and bumping into you in the only place he couldn't escape.

Y/N looked up at him hoping that he would talk. Hoping that somehow he would reveal why he was mad or at least why he was ignoring her.

"So it seems like you were just using me as a dog sitter huh.” Pierre broke the silence. He was feeling so many emotions seeing the person that made him feel good about himself. 

"What, Dubois what are you talking about?" Y/N looked up at him confused on why he would even think that. Cause honestly it did start like that but after that it grew into a friendship that she was so thankful for.

 Pierre just scoffed thinking of what he would say next. "The dude you brought back to your apartment."

"What about him?" Y/N asked.

"Look when i offered to be your dog sitter i didn't think it was for bringing guys around." 

"Look Pierre i don't mean this to sound rude at all but when you offered you said it was for whenever i needed a dog sitter and i brought Brody over because I thought you liked spending time with him. And honestly the guy is a one time thing.” Y/N spoke up suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable recalling the events from last night to her not so stranger anymore cute neighbor.

 "I do love dogs, honestly spending time with him was nice but why do you think I always came over to hang out with Brody?" He asked putting air quotes around hanging out. Then it clicked in Y/Ns mind. Him coming over more than two times a week, him ignoring her after her unfortunate night with a stranger, them now spilling their guts to each other in an elevator. He liked her. At least she hoped that she was right and was not about to make a dumb mistake.

"Oh." escaped from her mouth. As the door opened and Pierre smiled at Y/N waiting for somewhat of a reaction other than oh. 

"Pierre I've always been bad at reading signs so I'm really hoping that I'm reading the correct sign right now. Uhm would you like to maybe come over later, you know to hang out with Brody?" You asked as you put air quotes around hanging out with Brody like he had down earlier.

"I thought you'd never ask." He replied before placing a kiss on your cheek leaving you with a small smile on your face.

[vdlest]

No one, but you

Characters:

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:

You, Sam, and Bucky went to Prague for a mission that has something to do with what they call the Flash Smashers, but Bucky is not his usual "game on" mode and you found out why. He's still grieving over Steve's disappearance and for not being able to apologize to Tony.

Warning:

Swearing

This is the third time that Bucky almost got shot by a gun. He has been not his usual self ever since you, him, and Sam landed in Prague for a mission.

So when you and Bucky were left in the safehouse that Sharon prepared for you, Bucky, and Sam, you grabbed the chance to pep talk him as both of you and Sam are starting to worry about him.

"Hey, Barnes," you just got out of the room you are staying in and you called him when you saw him in the kitchen drinking a bottle of beer.

"What's up, y/l/n?" he asked you back. He offered you a bottle of beer, which you accepted, that's gonna make it easier for both of you to talk, hoping he would confide to you.

You sat down on the stool beside him, "Sam went out to buy dinner?" you asked him and he just nodded, "Oh, God, don't tell me he's gonna get us Thai food again," you groaned.

"I won't tell you then," he answered, making you roll your eyes, which made him chuckle.

You and Bucky has always been casual and friendly to each other. Steve was the reason behind it. You met Bucky and got to know the good person he is because of Steve. So you somehow knew that Bucky's odd behavior in this mission have something to do with Steve.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked Bucky while the two of you are finishing the beer of bottle each of you are holding.

"What is it?"

You cleared your throat and prepare yourself from any kind of reaction you'll get from him once you finally asked him your question, "What is bothering you?" He looked at you and you saw how puzzled he was with your question, "I mean, ever since we got here in Prague, you've been so distracted. Today was the third time you almost got shot by a gun and that is very unlikely of you."

He shook his head and said he was fine, but you know he is not feeling the kind of feeling he is claiming to have.

You wanted to gave the conversation up, but you knew it would cost a lot more if you won't do something about Bucky's unusual behavior. You didn't want to risk anything, most especially your life and your friends'.

"Bucky, if there's something going on inside your mind," you used your free hand to touch his broad shoulder, "You can always tell anything to me."

He looked down and did not stare back at you.

You thought he won't answer you nor say anything, but after a few minutes of silence, he started talking once again. You were right about your hunch, he's having this kind of behavior because Steve.

"I feel like I didn't have much time to spend with him, I didn't had the chance to make it up to him for saving me and my ass from HYDRA and from my own mind. After half of the planet came back, we only had a short period of time before he chose what he had to do," he drank from his beer and slammed the bottle on the countertop afterwards. "We were supposed to be with each other until the end of the line. He did that to me, but I don't think I did."

"What?" you asked Bucky, making him stop from continuing with his sentence, "Of course you did. You were with him until the end, until the moment he chose to live his life in the way that will make him happy and content. You were there Bucky, and the fact that you supported him, that you didn't think twice of understanding him and his choice, you were with him until the end."

"Then why does it feel Steve and I didn't had enough time?" he asked you back immediately.

His question made you stop from thinking for a minute. Even if you wanted to search for an answer to his question, you still found yourself stammering.

He let go of the beer he was holding and faced your direction, "It wasn't the first time we lost each other. It's just that this time is much different from before, because this time, we will not really see each other anymore. For real." You felt his pain and regret in his words and you saw how much he wanted to have more time with Steve but he didn't have the chance to do so. "After I came back from the blip, voila! My pal decided to live his own life and I can't blame because he deserves it. He deserves to be happy, but it fucking hurts to lose him again! He was the only person who understood me, who made me feel that I am worth saving despite the mistakes I’ve done in the past. Fucking mistakes I did not intend to do or commit!"

It's no secret from you what kind of friendship they both share. Steve risked everything just to save Bucky when he was still the fist of HYDRA. He came across everyone, anyone, just to protect Bucky, even if it cost him his friendship with Tony.

"But I am not just feeling this way because of Steve. I did not have the fucking chance to apologize to Tony for the time that I killed his own parents!" Bucky threw the bottle against the wall, causing its shattered pieces to scatter all around the floor.

You almost jumped when he threw the bottle against the wall. You've never seen him this way, ever. You’ve seen him as the Winter Soldier before, but being furious as Bucky Barnes. Never. It’s a new sight for you, and you admit that you felt somehow nervous and afraid of him. However, you felt sorry for him as well. You have no idea how it feels like to be in his shoes right now, how hard it is for him to see Tony died and did not get the chance to apologize. 

He turned to you and you tried your best to hide the fear you’re feeling towards him. You didn’t want him to be offended or anything. 

But he still knew. 

Bucky scoffed while facing you, “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” 

“Bucky, no,” you denied. 

He chuckled and shook his head, “There’s really only one person who can understand how I feel, and that person is gone, long gone. So stop trying to save me, ‘cause you won’t,” he walked past you and walked out the safehouse. 

For the first time, you were left stunned and speechless. It’s as if you were scolded by your teacher in preschool all over again. 

Bucky’s words pierced through you. You felt his pain. You felt that he’s afraid of what happens next to his life, knowing that Steve is not here anymore to be with him. He’s afraid that no one will care and look after him like Steve did before. He’s afraid that he won’t find anyone to make him feel he has a family. But you are now each other’s families and families look after one another. Right? 

● ● ●

“So he did not tell you where he’s goin’?” Sam asked you for the fifth time. 

Ten minutes after Bucky stormed off, Sam came back with your dinner. You told Sam about your conversation with Bucky and thought that it only made everything worse than ever. Both of you tried contacting Bucky, but you got no answer from him. 

“Sam, I told you, he did not. He just walked out on me,” you answered. It has been an hour since you and Sam are trying to contact Bucky. You are starting to worry about him, knowing that his gun and his other weapons are still in the safehouse. Well, he have his vibranium arm but it’s not enough reason for you to be okay with the fact that he’s nowhere to be found. 

You’ve had enough of just sitting around and waiting for him to come back, so you went inside your room and grabbed your jacket. 

“Where are you going?” Sam questioned when you came out of your room with your jacket on, “You gonna look for him?” he asked another question. 

You nodded, “Sam, he feels like he has no one anymore, knowing that Steve’s gone. He feels like he’s alone. So I will look for him and make him feel that we are here for him, that from this day on, we are his family. We are each other’s families,” you confidently said and grabbed your phone before you went out of the safehouse. 

By the time you went outside the safehouse, you did not know where to start, especially you’re in a foreign country. But you have to find him and take the risk. So you went on and on, you did not stop until you found him. 

● ● ●

You’ve checked all the possible places he could’ve gone through, but still no luck. So you ended up entering in the nearest bar in the safehouse. You did not think of checking this place a little earlier since you saw a lot of people inside, and knowing Bucky, he don’t want to be in crowded places. But you have no other choice but to give it a try this time. 

As you enter the bar, you inhaled the smell of smoke, beer, drugs, and even the smell of people making out. You feel like you’re gonna throw up or something but you fought it. You just have to look for Bucky and you can finally go back to the safehouse. 

You went to the bar area and a familiar built caught your eyes. 

He’s here. He’s there in the bar area, sulking in one of the stool and drinking. 

Despite the noise, the women trying to throw themselves into him, he’s just right there, sitting and looking in God knows what. He’s just quiet and peacefully drinking his beer. But one thing’s for sure, you saw sadness and loneliness in his eyes. 

“So you left me in the safehouse just to drink in this filthy place?” you asked him the moment you approached him. 

He looked into your direction and groaned when he saw you, “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. 

You grabbed his phone and showed him the multiple calls and messages he has from you and Sam, “You were out of reach, so I decided to reach you. You’re welcome, by the way,” you sarcastically hit him. 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe here,” he stood up and grabbed something from his pocket. He must be paying for his drink. 

While you’re waiting for Bucky, someone attacked you from the back, lifting you from where you are standing. 

“Stop fighting, baby. We’re gonna have so much fun,” the drunk man said while trying to grope you, “Leave that retard and let me make you scream my name.” 

“Asshole!” you said while trying to use your elbow to fight him but your strength is not enough. 

“Hey!” Bucky yelled when he saw you being dragged away from him. 

Bucky run towards the man who’s trying to drag you away, when the man saw Bucky is about to attack him, he let go of you harshly, making you fell down on the floor. Your head hits the floor first making you dizzy. Your back hurts the moment you fell down on the floor. You’re trying to massage your back when you lost Bucky in your sight. You roamed your eyes around and saw him punching the guy who groped you on the floor, not so far away from you. 

And that’s the last thing you remembered before your sight went black. 

● ● ●

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling the pain in the back of your head and your spine. You roamed your eyes around and saw Bucky sleeping in the couch inside your room in the safehouse. You moved your eyes to the window and saw that the sun is already rising. 

With the long sleep you had, you gained your strength. You stood up and groaned when you felt a little bit of pain in the back of your head and your back itself. You realized that you’re still wearing the shirt and pants you were wearing yesterday upon seeing your reflection in the mirror. 

You walked towards the couch and saw how peaceful Bucky’s sleep is. You saw a very peaceful Bucky, far from the man you saw shouting and yelling yesterday. 

“My super soldier hearing can actually hear your breathing, you know?” he suddenly spoke while his eyes are closed. A few seconds after he spoke, his eyes opened, turning his head to you. 

“What happened last night?” you asked him innocently, ‘cause you know he’s gonna scold you for following him last night. 

“Oh, so you don’t remember anything because that asshole dropped you on the floor, making you hit your head first?” he asked while getting up from the couch. “Well, apparently, you followed me in the bar and someone tried to drag you away.” 

You knew everything that has happened, you just acted innocently so he would spare you from his sermon. 

“So, what did you do?” 

“I beat him up,” he answered casually. 

“And what happened to me?” you asked him because the las thing you remembered was he was beating the guy who groped you and your sight went black. 

Bucky stood up, standing a few inches away from you, “You lost your consciousness, so I had to carry you all the way from that bar to your bed. So you’re not the only person who have backache. I also have one too,” he massaged his shoulders and stretched. He must’ve get it from carrying you, “Why did you even follow me?” 

“Because you said I won’t understand you the way Steve does, that no one else can save you,” you looked into his eyes and that’s the first time you appreciate his beautiful and gorgeous blue eyes, “I wanted you to know that even if you’re a very complicated person, you’re very hard to read, I will understand you. And after you saved me last night, I realized I can do the same for you. Because in the long run that I’ve been staying here on Earth, no one actually did what you did to me last night. No one tried to saved me. No one but you.” 

He was just staring at you but you could feel that your words went to his head and that’s what you want to happen, you wanted him to feel that you’re here for him, that even though Steve is now gone, he can still have someone and that someone is you. 

“Why would you want to save me? Why would you want to be part of the things that has something to do with me?” he asked you. 

“Because we’re a family, Bucky. This is the only family I’ve got, so I will do everything in my power to make this family last,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze as you give him a smile, “Just so you know, you have a family in us. You’re not alone. And I know it hurts to lose Steve, to not being able to apologize to Tony or to those people you’ve hurt, but it’s not too late to make it up to them in any way. I’m sure Tony would’ve wanted to reconcile with you too, but wherever he is, I know he will forgive you because he know that you have a good heart, that you’re not the winter soldier you think you were.” 

You waited for him to answer you, but he did not. Instead, you saw tears in his eyes and when it fell down, he immediately avoided your gaze. When he was about to turn his back on you, you grabbed his wrist and stopped him from doing so. 

“In families, they don’t hide anything,” you made him face you by wiping his tears away from his cheeks, “Remember what they told you in Wakanda. You’re free, so set yourself free from all of these.” 

You know it will take so long before he could finally confide everything to you, but you are willing to wait for that day. What’s important is you always make him feel that you’re always there for him. You’re his friend. You’re his family. So even if he try to push you away, you won’t go anywhere because you know he needs you and you need him too. 

-v.dl