#but. there is always some pinpoint of light to be found and sought after

[andoutofharm]

sometimes you just have to look yourself in the face and say what are we gonna choose. are we gonna keep making everything into a joke and something to mock and survive that way or are we gonna look for the light that has to be there on the other side of this. i have to fight for it. you have to say i do value sincerity and hope and i want to look for the light coming through and fight for that instead of just getting by on spite alone.

[redmemoirs]

the rest of this sequence sucks but heres an old retsu/touka thing i liked from the runawayverse (creature of habit storyline)

For the first time in her life, she’s glad Haki doesn’t love her back and she doesn’t have to deal with Makiri as an actual brother-in-law. Now at least he’s just some jerk who hangs around her best friend.

Which makes Touka some jerk who hangs around her, then? Worse, though. He’s definitely so much worse.

When she was thirteen and fifteen, the most aggravating thing about him was the fact that she could never exactly pinpoint what she hated about him. His smiles were perfectly kind, his gestures perfectly polite. He asked permission before holding her hand and his touch was feather light. He paid particular attention to her in conversations, sought her out and asked after her. He sparred with her earnestly and only offered advice when it was asked. He was considerate; even Prince Izana, nobility personified, couldn’t manage the same degree of care to his fianceé.

He was ostensibly the perfect suitor and fiancé.

But there was just something off.

It was something small, almost indescribable. It lingered in the way the Bergatt twins flinched whenever their eyes met hers, the way Countess Arleon’s congratulations on their engagement came tight-lipped and uncomfortable like it never was between her and the person who was as good as a second mother to her, the way Touka looked at her sometimes when she was dancing around his invitations: not hurt like Haki when she forgot to reply to her letters, not exasperated like her sister-in-law when she found her lying face down in the training grounds, not worried like her brother always seemed to be for her. Maybe that was the problem, the way he was nothing like anyone she knew. (She saw traces of him in Prince Izana, sometimes, but the look on his face when she voiced it was so vile that she couldn’t bring herself to continue looking.)

Touka, for all his kindness, sometimes looked at her like he might hate her. (Maybe she deserved it.)

[bella-caecilia]

For your color drabble prompt: Fluffy yellow and purple, please!

Hey, dear! Thank you for prompting me :) The purple prompt can be found here (x). And now finally, here comes the yellow colour drabble. I decided to make it pre-canon (hope you’re alright with this). The idea for this prompt came to me as I thought about the fact that it’s confirmed the first thing Robert does every morning is giving his wife a kiss. Hope you enjoy this young Cobert fluff!

Yellow – Happiness

1891

First, she thought sunlight kissed her awake. Tickling her nose, warming her cheeks. But then Cora remembered that the thick drapes in the Mercia bedroom and the deep winter months made an early greeting by the sun itself highly unlikely. And then there it was again. A warm sensation brushing her face.

She tried to turn in her sheets but something held her back. She groaned against the unwanted resistance in the early morning and made an attempt at pulling the sheets over her head instead.

“Hey…” sounded a soft-spoken hum.

It still confused Cora to wake up and not be alone in her bed. It was a sweet dream to finally come true. But it was so different from how life had been before, that in her especially sleepy state in the early hours of the day she always needed still some minutes to adjust to reality.

But now, she remembered Robert lying next to her in the sheets. Her heart skipped a beat at the realisation, and she was a whole deal less sleepy instantly. She ceased her fidgeting, abandoning the intention to return to the land of dreams, and tried to take in the sensations around and inside her in detail instead, her eyes still closed. That she was not yet ready for, looking into the eye of another freezing day of wintery hustle and bustle when all she wanted to do was to stay cuddled up in soft blankets.

She blamed her rapidly growing desire for comfort and warmth on her physical state. Mama and also her lady’s maid didn’t think it unusual for her to develop stronger desires and aversions here and there since the doctor had confirmed the glorious news of the growing offspring blossoming under her heart. The more so as Cora’s urges weren’t particularly unpleasant or concerning in any way. Mama said her ‘pregnancy laziness’ was maybe a little unpractical regarding the teaching for becoming a worthy successor and that it had a snobbish touch to it, but Mama meant she could deal with that and the elaborate lessons would be resumed even more resolute after the birth of the little joy. The thought made Cora a little restless because her lessons as they were called (it was actually just her days being spent closely with Mama who picked up every little opportunity to teach Cora a lesson about the proper aristocratic life), got dangerously close. The birth of her baby was a few more weeks away, two months at the most the doctor said, and Cora couldn’t imagine returning to daily life in Mama’s presence as exhausting and testing as it had been before her long-awaited pregnancy, probably even more so. She would have her lovely little baby, and she wouldn’t want to do anything but devote herself to her child. Hers and Robert’s. Oh, it gave her nearly more thrills to think about that than when she first found out she indeed was with child. Back then, everyone had been pleased and especially relieved to find her capable of bearing their family’s future. But the news hadn’t been connected to the mutual joy between her and her husband as Cora had dreamt of in her most daring dreams. They hadn’t been the loving couple overjoyed by the blessed proof of their love. Robert had been pleased and happy and had then been able to divert parts of his attention to other things. Cora had been filled with her new purpose and had been set to start this journey on her own merits. Her joy had been damped by the rapid decrease of Robert’s visits at night. But after a few weeks, she had pulled herself together and had tried to fulfil her role as a joyful expecting mother as best as she could. It wasn’t a role unsuited to her, and that made it easier to stick to her determined decision of making her success in her new role independent from the state of her marriage.

But something had changed during her pregnancy. Something inside of Robert, and Cora couldn’t pinpoint it to a specific event. But suddenly, he was there. With her. And now, he sought her company and welcomed it if she sought his. He came to her room more often and he even stayed the nights. And recently, he took up to sleeping in her bed just to be at her side. Cora considered that perhaps his own bed was just terribly uncomfortable, but the way he stroked her cheek before he turned to lay on his side to fall asleep told her otherwise. The explanation Cora didn’t dare to consider on her own came after some weeks. His love confession had been a little bit rambled and had been characterised by the red tip of his ears and the nervous wringing of his hands as she had confronted him one night with the question of what he did in her room again after they hadn’t even slept with each other just next to each other the last couple of nights. In retrospect, that had been a move too fiery for Cora’s own liking but the repeated kicking in her abdomen resulted in her portraying more of a quick tongue than was typical for her. And it turned out all just great. He loved her; he really did.

Cora couldn’t comprehend how they got closer with every day. She hadn’t imagined it possible. They loved each other, and Cora thought this was it. They were to love each other now, and things would be sweet, and romantic, and, golly, easier! But her marriage with Robert got more exciting with every day that passed and more familiar at the same time. Cora didn’t know how this worked but she couldn’t care less as long as she saw Robert’s adoring face every day.

Nearly every morning now, she was greeted by his softly-gazing face. He had taken up the habit of kissing her awake with a small peck on her cheek or forehead. And with a “good morning, my dear” he slipped carefully and quietly out of the bed to don his dressing gown and leave for his room next doors to ring for his valet. Cora was usually left in a sleepy and blissful haze.

“Hey… it’s just me,” Robert now whispered, and Cora felt his palm gently stroking the curls loosely adorning her temple. His hand followed the track of her probably wildly flowing mess of hair, only barely held together by an amber ribbon. “Please relax,” his voice was velvety soft. A tiny sigh escaped Cora’s lips.

Just as she thought how distinctively she sensed Robert’s warmth at her left, she felt the distant pressure of his other hand on the blankets covering her belly. She opened her eyes for the first time this day, and after blinking a few times, she took in her husband lounging next to her, slightly propped up on his elbow and following the tentative movements of his own hand on the protruding abdomen of hers, hidden and veiled by light covers. The whole room was set in a warm honey light. The marigold curtains in Cora’s room were suffused by the first rays of the morning sun, and it reminded her of the few walks with Robert at golden hour. She had always rested her hand a little more firmly in the crook of his arm and had imagined how they made the exact same walk but with Robert blissfully telling her about the beauty of nature and of his darling wife. Maybe, she contemplated, they could take a walk like this sometime. Maybe it wasn’t a dream so far away anymore.

But with Robert’s beatific serenity, this moment was perhaps even better than these walks at golden hour. It seemed he hadn’t yet noticed that she had finally opened her eyes, and maybe he had even forgotten that she was awake because his caresses on her belly became a bit more present while his gaze got dreamier.

“Good morning, Robert,” she said softly.

…

She looked at him with smiling eyes, her light blue eyes shining nearly golden in the morning light.

Robert didn’t understand how she made him happier with every day. It didn’t matter really what she did, but just being her sunny self lightened his mood considerably. And even though, she had already received her good morning kiss Robert had to lean forward once again.

His lips cupped the round of her cheek gently. It was the first time he realised fully what the expression apple cheeks meant. It wasn’t mainly about the red colour for him that characterised a young lady’s apple cheeks. It was about the full form highlighting the sweet cut of her cheekbones. Maybe it was also a lot about the colour he pondered but he didn’t care because Cora’s cheeks were apple cheeks nonetheless even if they had only a slightly rosy hue to them most of the time. Her cheeks felt so soft and tender against his lips. He hadn’t anticipated the pleasure of kissing someone’s cheeks before his marriage. But it was a great pleasure, and he decided to take his time for this today. Cora laid serenely beneath, and he once felt her fluttering eyelashes tickling his cheek. A strong urge to protect her struck him, and he held a securing hand around her shoulder.

After some time, he pulled back slowly and his eyes instinctively sought her happy smile again.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Oh, my lady’s maid,” Cora whispered, her wide eyes locking his eyes with a look of great intensity only Cora mastered. Robert remembered that Turner, Cora's lady's maid, was tasked by his mother with waking Cora at the right hour for the impending events of the day. Apparently, this started rather early today.

“What are we to do?” he whispered back unsurely. He wasn’t used to this. Usually, he got up and rang for his valet before Cora’s maid turned up. They seemed to have lost track of time today.

Cora shuffled back fully beneath the blankets. “Pretend to be asleep,” she breathed.

“What?” he mouthed silently as the doorknob moved with quiet noises.

“Trust me,” she responded. When Robert’s head hit the pillow and his eyes closed, he felt the rush of cold air indicating the maid’s entrance. The dull thumping of her heels on the carpet filled the bedroom. After a few steps, there was a sudden quiet except for an audible intake of breath. Robert knew it was the moment the maid had noticed him. He dearly hoped she didn’t saw the light colouring rising up his chest and neck in embarrassment. He really liked sleeping in his wife’s room but he didn’t think it would be the best to be found there in the mornings. It should at least appear he had a little bit of propriety. The servant made a beeline for the windows on the other side of the room swiftly. Apparently, she had decided to open the curtains and send the couple a silent message thereby. Then, there was movement next to Robert in the sheets.

“Turner?” his wife’s clear voice spoke softly after the first curtain was pulled aside. “Would you mind letting the drapes closed? Lord Downton and I still need some minutes to rest I think,” she whispered, her voice more groggily than seconds before.

The maid’s response was breathed in passing. Something between “Of course, milady,” and “Excuse me, milady,” and Robert tried to stay ‘asleep’ as best as possible all the while. The door closed silently behind Turner.

“Cora!” he hissed when the air was clear. “They will talk!” The look on Cora’s face was not a single bit concerned. How could she be so unbothered by things like this? “Mama won’t take resting in the mornings, in your room, as an acceptable occupation for the viscount and viscountess,” he clarified.

“Be that as it may,” she stated with calm resolution. “I think these little steps into uncustomary terrains are worth it, Robert.” His name rolled from her tongue so very American. That was probably why she didn’t bother with social standards. It was as Mama said so often. Her American way of thinking made it so very hard for her to adopt the English way of living. But Robert realised that it was actually just when it was the two of them that Cora really didn’t care for social standards. Otherwise, she was so very eager to do things right the way Mama proclaimed. She was willing to internalise aristocratic propriety so much she already was a lady.

“Worth it what for?” he inquired carefully, not quite knowing if this was the right way to go, but desperately needing for her to say it. He just wanted to stay by her side, enveloped by her warmth right now. Maybe her explanation would help him ignore propriety and Mama’s expectations for a moment.

“For us, it’s worth it, Robert. For us,” she said patiently as if it was the clearest thing there was, and with the gentle tone of a loving mother, explaining her child the same simple thing over and over again. She would be just perfect with their child. She was already perfect.

Robert responded to her brave conquest of a prolonged morning for the two of them with a firm and eager kiss on her lips.

[stilemawillow]

Ten Times in Total [Erwin Smith | Noble! Reader]

[I]

The first time, she was certain, came when her husband tugged at her hand at the ball. It was an official event that gathered together many sponsors and clients of noble heritage. Then there were the soldiers.

Whatever they did, however they dressed, however silent they stayed, they popped out. They were an attraction. They were something abnormal, like a wild animal let loose at a social gathering. Of course, soldiers hardly scared her as much as she would've wished for them to. She was, in actual fact, rather fascinated with them. They were always stoic and when they weren't - they were pretending. It was a funny thing, how every single one of them put on a different mask and underneath hid the same grief-stricken face lined with years of experience they would've preferred to die before rather than live through. And their eyes, oh, how pitiful that sight was.

Pools of silver, blue and brown and green, sad and desperate and sometimes searching for hope that wasn't there. It made her chest swell with fascination and pity at the very same time. How could a group of people so broken keep themselves together? How could somebody so desperate to die keep living on and on? Didn't their stamina, emotional and physical, ever come to an end? Would it one day? Would that be the happiest day for them or the most pathetic one? Or maybe both? Did they ever cry?

For her, they were all the same. Then he showed up.

Blond and tall and cold yet confident. His eyes were the first red flag that should've appeared in her mind, but they met hers and the red flags all turned white and ever so helplessly hung in the air.

His eyes were blue, like the ocean she'd once read about, and clear like its surface. It was like he saw right through her, into her head where the thoughts hid and intertwined and sought the connection between the dots. His eyes were something she remembered well even after that, a vivid memory borne of a hazy dream during a boring night.

Her husband was at once at her side, tugging at her gloved hand and silently requesting her immediate attention. But she was on the other side of the hall, standing in front of the tall blond man as he introduced himself to her and all the thoughts in her little head jumped out of her mouth and introduced themselves to him. His face was a mask, she told herself, but how exactly was she able to reach that conclusion when her gaze hadn't even left his eyes yet?

Her attention was at once averted when her husband became a tad bit more persistent. She faced him, put on her best smile and brought the glass of wine to her peach lips with an innocent excuse he ate up like a starving tramp. Her smile broadened the more she drank, keeping her thoughts at bay and the oddity of her stares at minimum. She allowed herself some more glances left and right when her husband wasn't closely supervising her actions, figuring out that the blond-haired soldier was hard to miss.

He was talking to the Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dok if she remembered correctly and the latter didn't seem the happiest. On the blond's left side stood another even taller male whose mouth opened once or twice, very shortly. Next to him, almost like a bird perched on his shoulder, was a brown-haired woman with glasses wearing a plain dress, entertaining herself with how fast she could talk his ear off. On the blond's right side stood a short frowning raven. Her head nearly tilted at the sight because she recognised him - Humanity's Strongest Soldier, Levi Ackerman.

To her utmost amusement, the shorty's mask was hard as steel but she could clearly see how he was probably the most broken out of the group. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips before his grey hues shot her a look, having pinpointed the presence of her orbs on his face. Her shoulders almost jumped, her eyes narrowed at his glare and then he just faced the front with a snort. He opened his mouth. And then his blond companion looked in her direction.

He was handsome, that was something rather undeniable. She raised the glass of wine to her lips again, not waiting for the blond to react to her curiosity regarding the people accompanying him. His expression seemed calm and his features soothing, almost like he was telling her everything was okay and she needn't hide her fascination with them, not when he could see it either way.

The ball ended about an hour after that. The only thing (Y/N) left with was the knowledge of the blond's name - Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps.

[II]

Second surely came that one time they bumped shoulders. (Y/N) was tired and bored, a very bad combination. She'd stated to the servants she wanted some air before sprinting away from the house like the wind. She felt, to put it mildly, caged in that house. It was almost like a nightmare - everything she hadn't wished for in one place, becoming truth the more she waited for it to turn back into an ordinary bad dream.

She hadn't been forced into marriage, rather consulted into it, and the fact she didn't love her husband certainly didn't stop her parents from adoring him in her stead. Rich, generally handsome and polite enough as to hide his displeasure at social gatherings - what more could a pair of reputation-concerned parents want for their daughter? Nothing, came the obvious answer, and in less than a month she was married and shipped off to that cage of hers. She came to loathe her days of not being able to go out and just walk around the town, now she had to treat everybody like peasants and communicate only with her husband and all the ladies of the high-class with their powdered noses and fancy gossip.

Frankly, she got away every chance she got and the servants rarely did anything to stop her. Her husband would never understand, she kept telling herself as she skipped down the street with awe in her eyes and joy in her heart. Just feeling the cobblestone street under her feet was enough to make her happy at times. Looking at the shops and admiring the blue of the sky above her head.

Almost like his eyes, she thought whilst staring into a bucket full of clear water. Then her shoulders went rigid. She was thinking of a soldier when there wasn't a soldier anywhere near her. Goodness, this surely meant trouble for her. As long as she didn't see him again it would all be good, she assured herself. But the point she was missing was that the trouble came from her internal wish to see him again.

Into a troubled daze and staring at the sky, she bumped into somebody and retraced her last few steps in a clumsy waddle, seeking balance along the distance. Once having regained it, (Y/N) looked up and what a very pleasant coincidence it was that Erwin Smith was the one looking down at her. That was when it happened, she believed. His blue gaze, the one she'd thought ever so recently of, made her stiffen. He offered a polite smile but she beat him to the apology.

"I apologise for bumping into you, I wasn't paying attention." Her words were an utterance of discomfort though courteous.

"It's not a problem." He worded curtly, with a nod of appreciation for the apology. She didn't manage a smile in spite of her own wish to do it, mostly because he had put on his stoic mask and was clearly uninterested in what facial expression she, in turn, had to offer. (Y/N)'s hands, maybe for the first time in her life, started fidgeting as she observed the blond in front of her. His gaze was calm and beautiful, but it prodded at her thoughts with disturbing persistence.

"If you'll excuse me, I have something to attend to." She attempted a lame excuse as to shine a light for herself on a possible exit out of this situation that wouldn't burden her with additional humiliation or discomfort. She walked past the male, now wearing his uniform in contrast with the formal attire he had on at the ball, but then his voice boomed behind her back.

"Mrs. (Y/N) Stevenson?" Just hearing her husband's surname, which had automatically become hers as well, made her lips purse ever so briefly. Luckily, the Commander wasn't a witness to the action, but she was curious as to how he'd gotten ahold of her name without an official introduction.

"Yes, Mr Smith?" She turned back to face him with the kindest smile she could muster, deliberately using his name as well as to show he wasn't the only one who could acquire information about her. His eyes seemed to darken just a tad bit before his lips parted. And maybe she stared at his lips a bit too long.

"Please, tell your husband how happy we were to receive his support at the ball. He is a very generous man." The compliment made the woman's brow twitch.

"As it would seem." Her voice was sweet as honey and her smile was so practised it didn't even seem fake anymore. (Y/N) spun on her heel and resumed her walk down the street, trying to calm her nerves and figure out the reason behind her husband's sudden generosity, moreover directed at a social group he'd dissed mere days prior to the ball with a wine glass in hand by the fireplace in the house and a condescending sneer on his face.

Like all other things, it took her some time, but she came to the conclusion her husband was never generous if somebody wasn't going to be generous to him in return. The case here, as it seemed, was no different. And suddenly, she found herself contemplating the urge to warn Erwin Smith about that.

[III]

The third time had to be the one at his office, at the very door as she exited it. She'd made an appointment but she hadn't expected for it to go through so very fast. She thought a commander was supposed to have a lot of paperwork to do and very little time to spare for personal meetings, but there she was, four days after sending a letter seeking an appointment with Erwin Smith, being handed the note with the exact hour by one of her servants in the house.

She took her time preparing the following day, making sure her husband knew what her excuse for leaving the house was and putting additional effort into making her hair and face look better than usual. It was a strange act coming from a married woman, but she felt herself doing it merely when it was already all too late. She spared herself the internal reprimand and exited the house. Thirty minutes later she was in front of the Survey Corps Headquarters, wondering if she should knock or just make her way inside.

As the lady she needn't be at the moment, she opened the door herself and noted she was supposed to take the staircase to the third floor, where Erwin Smith's office was supposed to be. The hallways were empty and cold, but she soon found her way around. She knocked on the first door in line on the third floor and heard a very cold voice questioning her motives.

"I'm looking for Erwin Smith." She announced steadily, trying to keep her cool. The door was sharply thrown open by Levi Ackerman and she had to look down to meet his gaze. He was truly, as the rumours suspected, abnormally short for a man that could kill titans five times his own size.

"What do you have to do with Erwin?" The raven-haired male questioned with a frown, grey hues glaring menacingly.

"I'm not obliged to answer and you're surely not authorised to ask." Her return was curt and cold, similar to his own. She had the right to get defensive since she was being questioned by somebody who she figured wasn't a personal secretary or lawyer to Erwin Smith and would very soon be also late for her appointment with him.

"I have every right to ask what a self-indulgent noble has to do with the person that's keeping her shitty self alive." He snapped even though the only proof of that happening was the harshness in his voice and the big crease between his brows. She let out a huff through her mouth as her eyes blinked his way in offence. The voice slipping past her lips was condescending.

"Fascinating, you truly are the most broken one, just hear yourself speak." It was like she'd just acquired proof of the true extent of his trauma as a soldier. Maybe it wasn't only because he was a soldier, maybe it came from his childhood as well. Whichever, he seemed furious because she called him out on it and because she was looking down at him while doing it. It was like it degraded his personality, to be talked to as if he was an inanimate object of no true value. Maybe it did.

"Pardon?" He spat - not spoke, features contorting in fury. "Listen here, you---"

"Thank you, Levi. I'll take it from here." A hand landed atop (Y/N)'s shoulder as she frowned challengingly in the midget's direction. Erwin's touch startled her, but the blond's attention was on his short right-hand man. After providing the latter with an expression the (h/c)-haired woman couldn't see, Erwin pulled her along the length of the hallway. The slam of the door to Levi's office reverberated off the stone walls loud enough to make her shoulders jump. "I apologise, please don't feel bothered by his demeanour." The blue-eyed male suggested kindly as they stood in front of his office.

"I'm guessing he's like that with everyone." She snorted as he opened the door for her and let her walk inside first. The only thing she noticed was that his desk was truly stacked with paperwork like she'd expected. The rest of the office was tidy and cosy, devoid of anything that might let her think it was really Erwin's - no pictures, no colourful additions or even a coat hanging from the back of the chair behind his desk.

"Every person who either insults or doubts him, yes." The blond closed the door behind their backs and rounded his desk, gesturing for her to sit across him. "Now, please take a seat and let's discuss what you've come here to state." Her lips pursed as she pondered the reason behind her visit again - it was rather impulsive of her to just show up.

"I'd rather not sit, I am truly here just to make a statement away from my husband's ears." Her attempt at making her voice seem confident failed rather miserably, but the man behind the desk paid that little attention at the moment. His fingers laced together, elbows propped on the wooden surface.

"Your husband? So he has something to do with this? Or is it something to do with him?" One of his thick eyebrows was raised and to deny it affected her determination would be a lie.

"I must say the latter. I told him what you requested, but I'm here to warn you his investment isn't that genuine." (Y/N)'s head was held high but her fingers itched to play around with the belt on her dress. "He's getting paid to support your army by somebody anonymous and he's receiving more money than he is giving. I'm afraid once those money stop, the ones given to you also will. I don't know if this deal of yours includes a contract or just somebody's word, but do be aware my husband's generosity might turn out less than expected at any time."

Erwin Smith, frankly said, seemed rather unfazed by her proclamation. More so, he gave off the impression of being interested in something that didn't concern any of the words that exited her mouth. His expression turned unreadable the moment it relaxed, like he'd put a wall between her and himself. She was unable to see past it. The only thing that told her anything were his eyes, and all they spoke of was infinite equanimity.

"I see the goal, in this case, is to make us seem even worse than we already do, by being lied to and eased into a frail financial state, but I don't seem to understand why the wife of the middleman has come here to give out warnings about it." His statement shocked her, but she'd anticipated this question and had come prepared to answer it.

"In this case, I'm not the middleman's wife, I'm just somebody who wanted to be honest. Good afternoon, Mr Smith. Or should I say Commander?" Her hand settled on the door handle as she looked back at the blond commander. His face had returned to its stoic features but his eyes were just as mesmerizing as the first time she'd seen them. He nodded his head very lightly and she pushed the handle, which resulted in both of them hearing a small click.

"Just Erwin is fine, Mrs Stevenson." There was a restrained smile on his face. A gesture born of politeness. She wondered why it seemed so obviously fake now when the one he offered to all those nobles at the ball the previous month was just as fake yet came to his aid way easier.

"Then you shall call me (Y/N) in return. I quite dislike my current surname." She stated stiffly, not enjoying the sound of her husband's surname. Before she stepped out of the room, her eyed fled back to his. So blue, they were so blue.

"Very well."

There was another smile on his face. It wasn't the one formed by his lips but the one in his eyes. The beautiful glimmer that loved to talk to her was now only smiling, softly so. It happened right then and there and she felt herself take a sharp breath before bowing lightly and stepping out. Once in the hallway, she breathed until she felt she was once again able to walk without having her knees wobble.

[IV]

Fourth was the time she watched him smile at her, genuinely.

With a kiss to her husband's lips and a small smile, (Y/N) closed the door and waited exactly thirty seconds before stepping back from it. Somehow, she did it every time Allan went out, just to test if he was truly gone. A sigh left her lips as she met the gaze of one of the servants. The elderly woman's mouth stretched in a sad smile and just as (Y/N) was about to retreat into the living room another knock sounded at the door. Her first thought was that her husband had forgotten something, but if he truly had he wouldn't knock at all since he was late as it was.

"I'll get it, Laura, don't worry." (Y/N) graced the woman with a smile before approaching the door. The servant headed in the direction of the kitchen as her master opened the front door and showed only her face outside. Her eyes widened. On the other side stood the tall muscular frame of Erwin Smith, blue eyes gazing down at her gently. "My husband's not here at the moment." Was the first thing she blurted out ever so stoically as the blond waved his hand dismissively at her.

"That is quite fortunate because I haven't come here to talk to him." He announced with a small smile, making her eyebrows furrow because it wasn't fake. Or at least it didn't seem that way. Not forgetting her manners, she opened the door fully and gestured to the insides of the house with a polite smile on her lips.

"Come in." The courteous invitation resulted in Erwin Smith attempting to make himself comfortable in the living room in an armchair across from her less than a minute later. Again, he laced his fingers together which just kept bringing her attention back to his hands. They were big and calloused, but his fingers were slender. She wondered if his palm could envelop both her hands in its hold - highly possible. And then his voice snapped her out of her inappropriate thoughts.

"I wanted to thank you, Mrs Ste--- (Y/N)." Her momentary glare softened as he corrected himself. She kept listening silently, finding out that his voice was rather attractive when not giving booming speeches about bravery and sacrifice. "I spent the last two weeks contacting other sponsors that would be able to support our budget. We'll be ready for when your husband's anonymous endorser deters his generosity. Quite the disaster has been avoided due to your warning, so I need to express my gratitude." (Y/N) was quick to raise an eyebrow at him. He provided her with a confused look with a small smile. Again, it didn't seem fake. "Seeing as you are quite endowed when it comes to anything material I've come to request your company instead."

The statement shocked her enough to render her speechless for the overall of the following half a minute. Erwin gave her time to think it through. She did, three times in the least, but stayed just as clueless.

"My... company?" She stared at the blond's face wondrously, searching for anything that might hint what the reason behind his invitation was. She was quite sure that if a man as busy as himself wanted to thank somebody he'd send a letter and get it over with. He wouldn't march to their doorstep and tell them he wanted--- what exactly did he want from her? As if having read her thoughts, he spoke up.

"Will you please accompany me on a ride into town, next week? Maybe you could even spend the evening at our headquarters." Erwin's voice was smooth and deep and she found herself already agreeing at least a thousand times in her head. The look on her face however was obviously not expressive enough on the matter. "You don't need to give me an answer immediately of course." He cleared out, a mild tone of concern finding its way into his voice. She hastily waved her hands around in a dismissive manner.

"No, I--- I accept, it's just that I was thinking what I would say to my husband." She explained despondently, making his eyebrows raise questioningly.

"You need an excuse?" She, once again, eyed his fingers. Her head gave a slight nod despite the fact her thoughts and mouth didn't agree on one and the same topic.

"I always do, never the leave the house without one. If he learned I'd gone out with somebody, not to buy something he'd go mad." Her statement didn't seem to surprise the male. She felt like that was an impossible task. And her thoughts drifted back to his hands, his face, his eyes.

"It seems as if it truly is fortunate I've come here when he's not present." Erwin Smith's thoughtful hum sounded like a rumbling purr at the back of his throat. (Y/N) briefly wondered what his laugh sounded like. What his mere chuckle sounded like. Her eyes trailed over his lips curiously but then she snapped out of her daze and her gaze fled to his own, hoping that he hadn't noticed her eyeing his mouth. He had, judging by the amused sparkle in his blue orbs. She could feel herself redden in the slightest.

"It is, very much so. I appreciate the offer, and I accept. Just give me the details and I'll be there." She announced, a small smile crawling over her lips. She didn't know if it was because of the tension she'd created in her mind or the fact she was overwhelmed by this 'date' she'd have in near future with a man she obviously considered attractive. And then it happened.

"Of course." Erwin Smith's mouth curled in her direction kindly, eyes glimmering soothingly. No teeth were showing but she felt herself redden again. The sight of his genuine smile was something, as she found out later that night, that had imprinted itself in her mind.

[V]

The fifth time hit her fast and out of nowhere, right about the time she realised what he was about to do. Everything had been well. Her excuse was perfect. Her husband was oblivious. Erwin Smith was waiting for her when she walked out of the house in a pair of white pants and a (f/c) blouse. Her hair was tied and her eyes held an abnormally bright sheen. She was smiling, almost from ear to ear.

Erwin had escorted her to the town, where, she believed, her first-ever date took place. It lasted four hours and she'd never been happier. Ever since she'd gotten married - three years marked by the first day of the upcoming autumn, she'd never smiled this much. Erwin Smith seemed to surprise her, over and over again. She completely forgot he was a soldier, she forgot he was broken and hurt and the destiny of many lay on his shoulders. She forgot she was married and a noble. She forgot how she hated her life - this was her life now.

The walking, the looking, the blond's blue eyes, the smiles and the carelessness - they were her life now. And when the day made way for the chilly evening, the Commander mounted his horse as white as snow and they rode towards the horizon, soon arriving at the HQ. He helped her off the horse as she laughed, making him smile in return. It was late and Erwin Smith seemed more human than usual. His tone, his eyes, his face and his clothes were all casual and unbothered. Just for this one day, the busy Commander had made time for her. It made her smile every time she remembered it.

When he brought her up to his office and asked her opinion she just laughed.

"I loved it, I've never laughed this much in my life." Came the contented answer out of her lips. The blond was leaning on his desk, letting her observe the muscles that rippled under the white button-up shirt he'd put on. She couldn't stop her thoughts from taking off in a different direction. "Thank you for everything, Erwin." Using his name seemed odd yet satisfying. She figured she'd get used to it quickly, more so if he kept looking at her like he did at the moment.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." Another hum at the back of his throat, another indecent thought in her head.

"Now tell me, really, why you wasted a whole day on me." She crossed her legs and stared up at him from the chair in which she sat.

"Well, first and foremost, it wasn't wasted. Second, I thought I was showing gratitude." He pretended to be casual and clueless, but in truth, she was sure he knew exactly what she was talking about when she addressed the entirety of today and the reasoning behind it. The blond folded his arms across his chest just as she started speaking, distracting her momentarily.

"Yes, but you could've done that on paper too. Instead, you came to the house and knocked on the door, and then asked me out on something that really reminds of a date. Why?" She put most emphasis on the last word mostly because it was the one that bugged her most. Why had he done all that? What had he gotten from it? Not money or more time surely. Erwin's face seemed to fall for a second before he just snorted and looked into her eyes.

"It seems I've been compromised. You are very interesting, (Y/N), you're not a noble. Not a normal one. Not only did you agree to a date with a soldier, but you helped one - a whole division that is much hated by the public in fact. I wanted to see you for a bit." His last sentence, although smooth and soft, confused her. It didn't make sense with everything else he'd said. Like a part of a different puzzle. She cocked an eyebrow and pursed her lips in doubt.

"You've seen me already." Came the pointed reply that made the blond huff. There was something pulling at the corners of his mouth, but she couldn't figure out what exactly. Amusement? Entertainment? Confidence?

"I wanted to see the you that laughed without restraint, without thinking of her husband and worrying about her appearance at all times." He explained, making her eyebrows furrow. He had seen it alright, he'd seen her laugh and not worry and not think of her boring husband. So what had it given him? The satisfaction of charming yet another noblewoman and having her wrapped around his little finger?

"Has it satisfied you?" She asked with a narrow of her eyes, defiantly tipping her chin upwards.

"You're saying it like you're being used." Erwin was looking down at her harmlessly, but she knew if he was the Commander of the Survey Corps, then he was also a great manipulator. And a liar. She wondered which he'd use in this conversation with her.

"It sounds like it. Am I not an experiment of yours? Just the next on the list of women you've managed to charm?" She questioned with a frown that made him smile kindly at her. Maybe in his eyes, she was a stubborn child who wasn't used to being treated well by somebody who lacked an ulterior motive. And maybe that was true.

"I'm afraid that list is rather short because I'm too busy to charm women. You're not a conquest, you're... unique." The word slipped out innocently but she was momentarily stunned by its presence. She'd never been called unique. Pretty - yes, smart - not so much, calm - a lot. Unique - this right now was a first.

"Unique? It's such a strange word coming from you." She snorted condescendingly, fluttering her eyelashes at his handsome face. His arms uncrossed and instead grasped the edge of the desk he was leaning on either side of his body. It provided her eyes with a glimpse at the hands she liked to observe so much.

"Why so?" He inquired harmlessly, making her face the ground instead of his gentle expression. She pouted like a child and stubbornly refused to answer for the next few seconds. With a snort, she came to the conclusion he wouldn't speak before she answered him.

"You're the busy commander that has made time for a date that gives him nothing. You're the one that made me laugh like that." Her voice might've been reluctant, but her heart and head weren't. She was telling the truth. And she was afraid because she was very attracted to him, in every single way there was. He had her wrapped around his little finger the moment he looked into her eyes.

"I'm flattered." He couldn't help but chuckle. It was a magical sound. Then he reached out a hand in her direction as if asking her to dance with him. She didn't take it immediately. "I have a question for you." She hummed curiously as his eyes pinned her down. "Are you married today? Tonight?" A sly smile pulled at her lips before she took his hand, immediately understanding where things were about to head.

"For you, I never seem to be married." Her voice was a hush and his eyes were just so blue. The moment she got up from the chair, he pulled her closer to his body with a smile of his own. He was handsome and clever, and he could lie. She wondered if he was lying when his next words were voiced, but the glimmer in his blue eyes immediately denied everything and assured her of how truthful he was being.

"That is very fortunate because what I'm about to do will make you an unfaithful woman."

He was eyeing her lips and she could feel it deep in her chest, something was stirring. A smile sprung out on her face as she relaxed against his muscular body and let herself be kissed. One thing led to another and if she was to say the night that followed wasn't the best night of her life she would be lying. Very much so. Because amongst all other things, Erwin Smith was also a tender lover. It was her first time getting worshipped during sex and she loved every second of it. To the point she woke up the next morning grinning.

[VI]

The sixth time was a gradual process, yet abrupt in all of its miserable beauty. It came months after the fifth. Her hand was handling a suitcase and her cheek had been gifted a very colourful bruise minutes prior. She stood in front of the door to his office, fumbling with the thoughts in her head and the words at the tip of her tongue. She couldn't ask the things she wanted to ask. Maybe she had to go elsewhere. Maybe her parents wouldn't disown her. Maybe there would be a single person she knew that didn't hate her. Before she could turn around and leave, the door to the office was opened.

"I didn't make an appointment." She blurted out suddenly, letting him overcome the initial surprise caused by her unexpected appearance. Then he saw the condition of her face and clothes.

"(Y/N), what happened?" His eyebrows knitted together as his mouth pursed. His gaze seemed to linger over the bruise on her cheek before settling on her eyes. He didn't enjoy the sight of it. Seeing as she wouldn't answer, he figured the topic was not to be discussed in the hallway. He ushered her inside and let her rest on the small couch by the wall. The door of the office was locked. He crouched in front of her and held her hands. His eyes - she couldn't get enough of how beautiful they were even in such a situation, prompted her to talk.

"Allan figured it out, I guess. He wasn't happy. But the divorce papers should go through the court by the end of the week." She was looking down because looking into his eyes was scary and she wasn't ready to do it yet. She figured he'd be disappointed. Maybe even angry. She didn't even know how Allan had found out about them but it wasn't bad enough she was now to live on the streets, shamed and ridiculed by everybody, Allan would also make sure nobody ever sponsored the Survey Corps. She basically ruined everything for Erwin.

"I'm sorry, darling." His voice was a soft hush as he placed a palm to her unhurt cheek and rolled his thumb over the skin. Her lips pursed. He shouldn't have been so calm about this - he was way smarter than her and the conclusion she'd reached had to had appeared in his mind as well. So why was he still so gentle?

"It's nothing, Erwin. Really." Her gaze traced the floor and the tips of the blond's boots, but she didn't dare look up, no matter how he was looking at her. His hand prompted her to do so as he spoke up.

"You're free to stay here for as long as you wish. You can sleep in my room or I can assign you a new one where nobody will be allowed to enter without your permission." The length he'd go to for her made her guiltier. She met his gaze and kept herself from drowning in it, for this was a serious conversation. Her heart wasn't erratic but it wasn't calm either.

"I'm fine with staying in your room. I feel comfortable there." She truly did. She wouldn't handle living all alone with herself. She needed Erwin as to not let the nightmares and paranoia win. She needed him so she could sleep properly, she even needed him so she could breathe. Doing that in a room alone with her thoughts seemed like an impossible task, but she just hoped she wouldn't create too much trouble for him.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" The kind smile made its way back to his features, but his eyes stayed somewhat stoic. He was thinking. He was thinking about how he'd handle everything. Maybe there was a way to avoid all trouble. If there was he'd find it.

"I just want you to hold my hand." She murmured longingly, making him stop in his tracks as he was about to stand up. Instead, he took a seat next to her on the couch and grasped her hand. The warmth of his palm enveloped her and for a second she felt way calmer. Safe and secure. And loved. She looked up at Erwin and it happened, a gradual yet abrupt process that broke her out of her misery for just a second.

"That I can do." At that moment, she could hardly find the words to describe anything about him. Not his voice, not his eyes, not his expression. 'Loving' was close to perfect, but not there yet. So she settled for describing the warm tranquillity and unconditional affection that overcame her as she stared up at his eyes. And she liked to believe he saw that as clearly as she felt it.

[VII]

The seventh visited her that one time when she woke up in his bed and realised how much he meant to her. She'd been sleeping calmly. She'd been sleeping calmly for the past month. She was now officially, once again, (Y/N) (L/N) and she and Erwin had celebrated it not once or twice, but numerous times when he managed to spare a few hours for her. After that things had calmed down. The Survey Corps wasn't broke yet and (Y/N) wasn't living on the streets. And then everyone had gone on a mission.

It wasn't like she'd ever seen an actual titan in her life, but after hearing Erwin's stories about them it became her number one wish not to have to see one either. He'd always chuckle when she said that, but deep down they both knew it was true. Everybody would wish to avoid the titans if they had the choice. Most nobles had that choice. People whose duty wouldn't let them choose themselves over others, however, were a whole other story. People in the Survey Corps were like that.

Undoubtedly, the months she spent in the headquarters made her understand soldiers better. They were still fascinating but now it wasn't in the 'pet' kind of way, it was in the 'person' kind of way. She felt a strong sense of admiration for those people who just felt like sacrificing their lives in order for others to live. She got to meet quite some cadets and she felt like the only person out of place. Most of them had had terrible experiences and the only tragedy in her life was that she was newly divorced and forced out of her comfort zone.

Besides cadets, (Y/N) was also introduced to most superiors Erwin trusted, including Hanji Zoe - the madwoman with a titan fetish and admirable bravery, Mike Zacharius - the silent sniffer who turned out to be a close friend of Erwin's, and last but not least, Levi Ackerman - the short right-hand man with a freakish thing for cleanliness and the strongest character ever. Erwin told (Y/N) one night as she helped him with his non-confidential paperwork about Levi's past and how much he had to go through. Like the average person she was, she felt the need to voice how she'd noticed from the start how broken he'd been. Erwin had let out a heartfelt chuckle to that.

In truth, her radar stayed just as sharp after she started living amongst soldiers. She could still see the masks and the grief-stricken features at times, even on Erwin, but now she saw them on people with pasts who longed for a better future than the one they saw in their heads. Erwin Smith was an exceptional dreamer on that topic - he could stay up late and tell her stories about the world outside the walls he'd read about and what he planned to do once he reached it. As of late, his plans also started including her, which made her smile every time he'd dreamily slip it into the story without ever realising he had.

She loved listening to him. But she hadn't even heard his voice in a week. She hoped everyone was safe.

This morning was strangely slow for her. She opened her eyes and stared out through the window, letting her thoughts flow free. The blue sky was calming but it was also a reminder of Erwin. She felt like he had a thousand blues in his eyes. The water, the sky, the ocean he loved to talk about, the flowers in the field just past the training grounds. She wanted to see his eyes. So much.

She rose from the mattress when the clatter of hooves made its way into the room through the open window. She stumbled out of bed and showed herself, seeing the carts and the horses and the people. Some were wounded. Some were missing. And some she knew. She waved when Hanji noticed her. The brunette nudged Levi, who also spared her a glance. Mike threw her a small smile. But she couldn't see Erwin.

Sudden panic gripped her heart, making the smile on her face freeze. Levi's eyes narrowed at the stiffness in her figure but then he looked back ahead and pretended not to have noticed it as Hanji started talking to him. (Y/N)'s hand lowered and she eyed the rest of the soldiers frantically, searching for the tall Commander. He was supposed to be the leader, the first in line upon their return, but maybe he'd decided to ride back for once. Or he was wounded and was in one of the carts. Her eyes couldn't find him there. She tried not to let the third possible option get to her.

Erwin was coming back. He always came back.

She heard the door to the room open, which made her swivel and eye the intruder. When her eyes met his blue ones she felt her shoulders sag in relief. Her face clearly showed that as well because his expression was rather amused. There was blood on his shirt. It wasn't his. The seventh time was barely recognisable but the room was so silent they both might've been able to pinpoint it.

She snorted and then she was sprinting towards him. He had just enough time to open his arms before she jumped, making his back hit the door with a thud. A small snort escaped his nose as his arms wrapped around her. She was laughing, relief was coursing through her body, and when he met her gaze she felt like the happiest girl.

"I see you've missed me." Amusement and fondness both laced that sentence. She couldn't discern which was more and which - less.

"You scared me." She stated, small hands cupping Erwin's cheeks gingerly as her legs locked around his waist at the ankles. She didn't intend on letting him go anytime soon. He chuckled sweetly and she felt her heart melt.

"I apologise for that." He hummed as she pecked his lips and stared into his eyes with adoration. She didn't want to lose him, ever.

"Important thing is you're back." She smiled and he, although tired, smiled right back. She loved that smile.

[VIII]

Eighth was the time she caught him pulling a fourth all-nighter in a row. He was in his office and he'd ever so confidently lied to her, saying that he'd come to bed. That had been about three hours ago. (Y/N) rouse from the bed in the dark and saw a thin line of dim light sneak into the room from under the door that parted Erwin's office from his quarters. She stood and stretched, and her spine popped gratefully in response before she went to the door and opened it.

Erwin's eyes didn't stray from the papers he was reading. She also stayed silent, making her way through the office and out of the door. Maybe after the door closed behind her back he looked up. She made her way down the cold hallways with bare feet before arriving at the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea and for Erwin, she prepared some coffee. On her way out she saw Levi go in. Once he saw the cups in her hands and she saw the tired expression on his face they nodded at each other knowingly and didn't spare the other another glance.

(Y/N) went back to Erwin's office and presented him with the cup.

"You could've asked for my assistance." She stated casually as he wrote. He shook his head lightly.

"This is confidential."

"Is there nobody else you could ask?"

"Everybody has something to do. This is what I have to handle." He stated seriously before glancing up at her briefly. "You should go to bed."

"I'm afraid I'm so angry I'll have to refuse." She settled on the couch with her tea in hand as he snorted and kept writing. She observed his big hands and the blue in his eyes. She watched his eyelashes create a half-moon shadow on his cheekbones. She admired the way his hair was always in place. Her eyes traced his nose and trailed over the lines of his lips. It would've been very nice if she could just distract him somehow but she knew he wouldn't let it happen unless he had little to no work left or he was too tired to handle any more of it.

She knew she couldn't help so she just sat there silently, pondering her feelings as her eyes slid over every part of him. At one point his fingers stopped in their tracks and let the pen drop from them. He picked up another paper and started reading it from the top, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. She could see he was tired, judging by the yawn he let out a few seconds later. She knew there was no way she could force him into going to sleep - his thoughts would torture him either way.

Then his eyes were on hers. First, it was just a flicker that she barely noticed in her daze, but then Erwin looked at her and left the paper back on the desk. He weakly gestured for her to approach him. She didn't know how long she'd sat there but judging by the way her legs had gotten numb when she got up she understood it had to have been more than half an hour.

"Sleep?" She questioned hopefully, making him shake his head with a weak smile. He took her hand in his and tugged her closer. She understood what he wanted, so she sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You need sleep, Erwin." She reminded softly when his head dipped forward and his lips pressed against her bare shoulder. She smiled at the contact while running her fingers through his hair. Even with all that pomade he used it was still soft and pleasant to the touch.

"Just let me rest for a bit like this." He mumbled, lips still pressed against her shoulder. She sighed before a small 'sure' slipped out of her mouth and she made herself comfortable in his lap. Erwin left lazy kisses along the length of her neck before snuggling his face into the crook of it and breathing in. At the beginning, she thought it was so he could make sure she was there, but with time she came to realise it was because he wanted to remember. Etch her scent into his brain so he never got to forget.

(Y/N) kissed the top of his head and felt his hands squeeze her waist. Big and warm, that was what Erwin was. He also deserved a lot better than her. But, she thought, for now, she wouldn't complain. At one point Erwin faced her - messy hair, soft blue eyes and a kind smile, and she swore she could melt. The bit of paperwork the blond commander did before she sat in his lap was the last of paperwork he got to complete that night and the next morning when they both woke up in the chair behind his desk (Y/N) could only chuckle as Erwin scolded himself and groaned in alleged exasperation.

[IX]

The ninth time, no doubt, came when he told her that. It was a calm afternoon, no arguments, no incidents, no nothing. Most cadets had left because it was their day off and they wanted to visit their families. The little who stayed were in the mess hall. Most superiors stayed. Levi, Hanji, Mike and Erwin all did, along with (Y/N) herself. Lunch had passed and Erwin had decided to go into town with (Y/N). Maybe on another date, she secretly hoped, but she knew he'd probably shop and she'd just enjoy being in town for the most part.

Everything was great until her ex-husband showed up, along with her parents. She could only snort at the sight because he was the perfect son they'd always wanted. More than they wanted her for sure. Erwin had entered a shop he obviously needed something from and she'd been left outside. She hadn't minded it, but now it was different. She pursed her lips and attempted to turn away but her mother had already seen her.

There was glaring and frowning and the usual amount of condescension, but before things could get ugly Erwin exited the shop and put a warm hand to her shoulder. (Y/N) could see Allan's whole face twitch in annoyance.

"What a Prince Charming you've found for yourself, (Y/N). I didn't expect a slut like you would be anywhere but a ditch after I threw you out." Her ex-husband sneered, making Erwin glare as she bit her tongue spitefully, in an attempt to keep the words in. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?" He taunted, making her snort. Erwin must've known what was coming because he was already smirking.

"I'm sorry, Allan, but I don't feel the need to humour your pathetic way of trying to make me feel bad. I'm tolerating you only because of the fact that if I don't you're going to be the one ending up in a ditch and I don't really want human blood on Erwin's hands. As my Prince Charming, he feels really obligated to slay the dragon if I deem it needed." The blond by her side smiled affirmatively, making Allan's face twitch again. She knew it was a bluff that wouldn't get called while also doubting it was an actual bluff. She hadn't seen Erwin in action but she could bet he could knock out somebody with no experience in combat with a simple punch and that would be more than enough to teach Stevenson a lesson.

"We have to go, (Y/N). We're late." Erwin tugged her along as she frowned up at him, confused. Her ex-husband and parents were left behind, fuming and ever so slightly embarrassed.

"Late?" She echoed, making Erwin sigh in disappointment. She wondrously eyed the genuinely sad expression on his face with growing worry. They stood in front of the stables and Erwin pulled out a small velvet box from the pocket of his uniform jacket, showing her the ring inside. Her mouth gaped.

"Yes, I was supposed to propose to you five minutes ago. I'm afraid we've already arrived at the part where you say 'yes' and kiss me." The explanation ended with a charming smile for Erwin and a slack jaw for (Y/N).

"You're not serious." She stated in disbelief.

"Only if you don't want me to be. Then the ring is a present and I stay the Prince Charming who loves you." The blond's confidence was astounding, but so was the gesture he was performing. She could start crying in the middle of the street and she wouldn't care. The meaning of his last words reached her subsequently just as she was about to open her mouth. All of a sudden there was no oxygen and Erwin's eyes had managed to hypnotise her.

"I say it plays the role of an engagement ring." She said in the end after being able to take a breath. He smiled and slipped the ring on her finger.

"That's technically a 'yes', you know." Erwin seemed smug and she couldn't stop staring at his face. He was so handsome. So important. So special and unique. Hers.

"I know." She was grinning.

[X]

The tenth time was a constant struggle where the opposition just couldn't win. She had to say it, she told herself continuously after the 'engagement'. A week later she still hadn't. And then she caught Erwin sitting by himself, not in his office like Hanji or in the mess hall like Levi, but on the steps of the HQ in the middle of the night. She'd tapped his shoulder and when he'd turned around to face her, she'd been mesmerized by the lines of his face in the moonlight.

"Don't stay too long. It's cold out here." She warned, making him nod. She stood at his side for two minutes before taking a seat next to him and following his gaze to the stars in the sky. Some were vivid, some were little and plain and some had just the right amount of sheen to be noticed fast yet not immediately. She felt like she was observing the night sky for the first time in her life.

The ring on her finger was heavy but not in an unpleasant way. It reminded her of the way she now belonged somewhere. With somebody. She stared up at the sky and wished she could stay this calm forever. That she could stay with Erwin forever. She knew that would also come to an end, but the optimist in her told her it wouldn't be in a tragic way. Erwin was a good man, a capable soldier and a person who deserved all the best. The universe would do a lot not to refuse him that at least. A little bit of the happiness he deserved.

A few minutes later she noticed the blond was looking at her, not the stars. She faced him and smiled. He was silent. Maybe this was the right moment, she told herself. She could do it now, she was brave enough.

"Erwin," she started hesitantly, immediately drawing in his focus, "I..." She found herself incapable of proceeding as planned. "I want to be with you." His gaze softened as she grasped his hand. "You keep telling me you'll disappoint me but you could never ever do that. You tell me you'll probably leave me early, but I say damn that. You'll keep coming back and I'll wait. I'll wait as long as needed."

"You said all that but still can't force out that last bit, can you?" He chuckled and she pouted, knowing he knew what she'd been meaning to say in the beginning.

"I can. Because I love you."

The sound of his chuckle halted and he stared into her eyes wondrously, not believing her words. The opposition had won. Then his face relaxed and he was smiling again.

"I know you can. You can do everything you want to." They'd had this type of moment so many times she couldn't keep track anymore, but this one was especially important because it was the first time in her life when she said 'I love you' to somebody and meant it. Erwin's eyes were beautiful and the flags in her head were still white and hopelessly waiting to be raised. His eyes saw right through her, all the way to the intertwined thoughts and the line connecting all the dots. They had from the very first moment.

"I adore your eyes." She shared bluntly, not minding the way in which he would react. He huffed and gave her a knowing smile.

"I've known that for quite some time." He shared in return, making her redden as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. When she looked into his eyes again the tenth time came - her heart skipped another beat. Her smile broadened the more Erwin kept looking at her. She counted mentally and the number ten sounded in her mind before her focus strayed to the stars in the sky again. She stared up at them, relishing in the feeling of Erwin's warm hold on her hand and the sensation of his beautiful eyes on her visage, figuring out the thoughts in her head.

Ten times in total did Erwin Smith make her heart skip a beat. But she'd keep counting in hopes that they grew; in hopes that he'd keep doing it until they grew old and grey together; in hopes that he'd do it every day as to prove he was there, and to make her remember him and every moment they'd spent in each other's presence. (Y/N) would keep counting, even when they became a hundred or a thousand or a million, or a number she no longer knew how to pronounce.

[scandeniall]

falling in love

Pairing: sakusa x reader

Warnings: none for once ??? Usual college/aged up

A/n: Yeah it’s almost 3am and I just soewed this out. Idk if it even makes sense but I wanna be in luv with him lol. Also; the references to no limit to you (bc even months later it’s still top 3 one of my fav things I’ve ever written)

Falling in love with sakusa is slow and steady. Its weeks of being an acquaintance and friend of a friend. You were friendly enough, considerate of his space and that he wasn’t the most outgoing guy in the world. Paying attention when he made his way into the conversation as you all sat at a group dinner. It’s the not shoving your social media in his face unlike other people trying to get a highly sought after athlete to follow them.

It’s months of getting to know one another as friends ignoring the tiniest spark whenever you two would meet up for lunch. So tiny, it could’ve been a hallucination. Getting his number one night as the two of you found yourselves outside of a party (one he’d been forced to go to and wanted nothing more than to leave), the rest of your friends having the time of their lives on the dance floor. At that point he’d watched you and got aquatinted enough to know that you were relatively genuine. He’d detected no ulterior motive. Late night texts were his thing. After a busy day of classes and practice, where he’d remembered you’d texted a joke the day before. He’d shoot a quick apology for his poor conversation and offer his own meme as consolidation.

It was just over a year of knowing one another that it’s the first time as friends he felt nervous to hang out with you and couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It wasn’t a date by any means, just a mutual friend’s birthday dinner. He’d offered to pick you up as an apology for his horrible texting one week in particular citing that it was on the way. It was the first time you’d ridden in a car just the two of you and the way you offered a breathless greeting and apology for taking so long to come out (thus putting you two behind schedule, something that had garnered the tiniest bit of annoyance) had his own breath caught in his throat. He’s not even sure he uttered any real words when you’d complimented him.

It was at the end of the night, seeing you delirious with exhaustion yet as happy as ever, finally having a break from the reality of classes that his crush might’ve started. Your insistence that he texted you when he made it back home safe and the fact that you even stayed up to make sure he did stirred something inside of him.

It was something he’d pushed down. ‘It was only because of the atmosphere’ is what he tried telling himself. Yet he couldn’t shake the way he actually enjoyed hanging out with you in a way that was different from hanging out with Komori or his teammates out of obligation. At some point the two of you began studying together and that unveiled a new layer of yourselves to one another.

You learned that he needed nearly complete silence to study and he had to force himself to not focus on the tiniest muffle coming from your earbuds. He learned that when you began to stress to got extremely fidgety and would have to shoot you a look whenever you clicked your pen one too many times. Sometimes you’d have to break from the libraries harsh fluorescent lighting because he worked best there on the quiet floor. The compromises you made as friends in even school were because there was something oddly comforting about the presence of one another when studying. For you, it was how studying with him actually forced you to be productive and not get distracted like you’d do with your own friends. For him, it was the sheer comfort of having someone there, someone who didn’t try and talk with him and ultimately let him be.

It was early into your third year of college when he finally asked you out. At this point you’d been friends for nearly two years and sitting on feelings for at least a year. It was a simple date, takeout from a place the two of you mutually agreed on and a movie at his place. A clean spot for his first date with you. The date had been nothing special but you’d gotten to truly witness first hand just how meticulous his cleaning habits were in his own personal space.

Of course in the time you’d known him, you’d seen his cleanly nature in action. It’d manifested itself in the the mask he frequently wore and the hand sanitizer he carried often. You’d always noticed the way he glanced at public tables and admired the fact that he was never too shy to ask for a different one at a restaurant when it was obvious that it had hardly been cleaned in between guests.

His desire to immediately wash his dishes, and wipe down the table post dinner caused him to offer you an apology yet you didn’t care. The way you just wordlessly helped him confirmed that his crush was indeed real. When it got chilly, you didn’t feel obligated to cuddle up for warmth and even gratefully accepted the blanket he offered you, separate from his own.

In the nearly two years you’d known Sakusa, neither of you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact. Yes there was the occasional glance of one another’s shoulders to show the other something, but it’d always been platonic. That first date ended with the first of many hugs and a cautious look asking for permission to kiss his cheek.

That first date quickly turned into a second and third and fourth and fifth, the two of you sharing your first kiss sometime between the third and fourth. Itd been after one of his games, one your school had won. You’d waited up for him, the promise of boba on you if he won. Not that he really wanted it, but more so felt drawn to hang out with you. “We’re gonna win”

The kiss was quick and what others would have attributed to being “a moment.” It wasn’t unusual for silence to envelop the two of you. You’d been privy to many comfortable ones after learning to gauge when sakusa needed a moment to cool off from conversation. As the two of you just walked from the shop, drinks in hand and back toward campus he’d paused and asked to try something. Neither of you knew it, but inside both of your nerves were going crazy. The slightest shaking lasted the remainder of your time together unsure if the kiss really happened or if you’d just imagined it.

It’d been two months of dating exclusively before you two became an official couple. The kisses from there became more frequent but for some reason there was the hesitation to jump into anything official. So instead, the two of you spent that time getting to know one another in purely a romantic context.

At some point you’d joked asking when he was going to officially become your boyfriend.

“Do you really want me to?” Itd been a thought that had been at the front of his mind lately. He’d been trying to find the right time to ask as well, getting annoyed at the questions his teammates would ask about you in the locker room. He watched you intently analyzing your reaction to his words as your amused look turned serious than softened before you indicated that you really did. And so he asked and it became official.

It was the way that even after the honeymoon stage had ended that he still felt drawn to you. Even when you bickered about your room not being clean [enough] when he came over or about your annoying own clicking habit, neither of you wanted to bicker with anyone else. Even during your first serious argument that resulted in you admitting that you loved him his heart both dropped and swelled. He’d been the one to fuck up that time, the argument being quite heavy. That night he left with a kiss on your temple and a promise of seeing you soon.

It was the way that the days the two of you didn’t speak felt like hell to him. He was more irritable towards others and found himself stress cleaning whenever he could (something his teammates witnessed as he wiped down his locker for the 50th time in a span of 5 minutes). The usually cautious player may not have performed differently to outsiders, but when he didn’t see you in the crowd during the home game he was off.

Making up felt like a weight had lifted off his heart. He’d swallowed his pride and reached out first. Returning those 3 words for the first time had him feeling like he was on cloud nine.

From then the love between you and Kiyoomi continued to grow. It was never perfect, with the two of you always having something something to work on. But, it was you.

The day he’d revealed to you that he’d signed to MSBY post college was one of his favorite moments. The two of you had been at his hanging out when he’d given you the unmarked envelope. He’d watched your face go from confused to realization to excitement as you read aloud “we welcome your commitment to MSBY Black Jackals-.” It was one of those times he didn’t mind the camera you’d shoved in his face insisting that you were filming a once in a lifetime moment. He’d found himself smiling at the kisses your scattered over his face, ignoring what usually would’ve made him grimace in disgust for the love that overpowered it.

He’d considered the next step in your relationship for a while the question of asking you to move in with him ultimately flowing out of him at graduation. It was the start of a new journey and he wanted you by his side.

Moving in was no easy feat. Learning to live with another person and their habits got to the two of you at times but you were determined to stick it out. Once the initial struggles faded, and you’d gotten into the swing of things he was met with a different kind of love. The love of a domestic life with you. Love was never easy, and potentially being harder when you were young. Yet you’d waited it through. Slowly built a friendship and the foundation of something great. Sakusa has no intentions in proposing anytime soon, yet knew for a fact that he wanted you and you want him.

a/n: i honestly coulve kept going but uh i gotta go to bed and this shit is long nough

[ddarker-dreams]

I Got The Blues. Yan Bruno x Reader [COMM]

warnings: implied manipulation, isolation, some paranoia. word count: 5k.

This isn’t how you were expecting your evening to go. 

Flashing by you in a dreamlike world of blurred colors, the city of Naples at night is a picturesque sight to behold. Gone is the sun that kindly lavished the bustling streets in shades of amber and marigold, moonlight and twinkling stars taking its place. How a city can have a clear enough sky to spot stars is a miracle beyond your own knowledge, though the lights of streetlamps and buildings do dull it some; it’s not enough to diminish the greater beauty. 

Butterflies dance around in your stomach, threatening to send you careening in your leather seat. Your exposed skin gratefully takes in the cool of the air conditioning that you’ve found yourself fiddling with, in hopes of quelling your inner anxiety. Every now and again, you work up the courage to look over at your date for the night. When knowing, cobalt eyes flicker to meet your gaze, all of the valiance it took to look his way melts like ice. Your muscles go taut, fingers curling into a fist atop your bare thighs, rose colored lips set into an unsteady smile to dissipate the uneasy air of your own making. 

You haven’t even made it to the restaurant, and you’re already on the verge of boiling over with excitement. 

Bruno Bucciarati is nothing if not a stunningly handsome man, eyes smoldering and raven hair perfectly framing his sharp face. There are plenty of mysteries in this world, now you’re able to add one of your own design. Why is it that Bruno had asked you of all people, on a fanciful date? What he had seen in you up until this point to have extended this invitation to you is up for debate. It’s not that you think poorly of yourself -- far from it -- but that Bruno’s beauty is so ethereal, that it’s hard to fathom his interest in you. Today isn’t the first time he’s expressed it, and far from the last, but you mistook it for friendliness. 

“I promise I won’t bite, amore,” Bruno’s rich, velvety voice invades your ears, senses incapable of processing anything other than his presence beside you. “There’s no need to be so on edge.” 

Your heartbeat increases tenfold at his good-natured teasing, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. Having conversation fill the air provides you with some much needed reprieve, a playful response of your own bubbling to the surface. “You say you won’t, but I get the feeling you may go back on your word.”

He returns your laughter with equal fervor, the skin underneath his eyes crinkling in delight. “I have to admit, it’s a tempting proposition. But I’ll save that for another time, should you let me.” 

There’s no getting ahead of his game, he’s too suave and adept. You look out the window to hide how your cheeks flush, but from the pleased hum he lets out, you’re certain he knows anyways. The banter is an enjoyable aspect of your time with Bruno, though there’s an underlying factor of honesty to his words. All the compliments bestowed upon you come from a genuine place. Your mind wanders to the first time you had encountered him, a fated meeting that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon. 

You had been jet lagged, searching frantically for a place to meet up that your native friend suggested. Directions went into your head without making proper sense, and before you knew it, you were lost. Your concerns of meeting up with your friend were soon replaced by wondering if you’d ever pinpoint where you were, the foreign area making it increasingly difficult to do so. It’s in this pitiful stupor that a well spoken man in a fine pressed suit appeared before you, asking if something was the matter. 

He hadn’t looked down upon you for the admittedly embarrassing plight, instead, he said he knew the area and wouldn’t mind taking you there as it was on his way. From that point onwards, you couldn’t thank him enough, praises stumbling from your tongue. He introduced himself as Bruno Bucciarati, and the time you spent with him was enough to forget your earlier problems. The long walk to where your friend awaited was filled with pleasant conversation and humor, with some light flirting that you enjoyed a little too much. From afar he looked serious, but had a coquettish nature that drew you in like a moth to a flame.

While it would’ve normally sounded terrifying to follow a stranger to a destination in a land you weren’t familiar with, Bruno put your heart at ease. He kept an appropriate distance and observed the theoretical line in the sand, never crossing it and using adequate charm to steady your frayed nerves. Upon hearing that you were a fresh arrival to Naples, he gave a brief overview of some culture tidbits that you might find useful during your stay. What was going to be an awful afternoon turned into a memorable outing, full of adventure and discovery. To say that you were grateful would be an understatement. 

Upon reaching your destination, all your anxiety from before was a thing of the past. Bruno was glad to see you off, refusing any monetary payments you tried to offer as thanks for his altruism. Instead, he asked if he could see you again at some point, to which you readily agreed. Thus began your pleasant friendship, and led to where you are now. On an excursion to a restaurant that, when you looked it up, seemed to frequent politicians and celebrities. How he managed to score a reservation at such a fine place is beyond you, but you’ll make the best of it. 

Fidgeting with your purse, you consider reapplying a touch of blush to your cheeks. Your outfit choice for tonight, a simple yet form fitting black dress that ends above your knees, was the best your closet could produce for such an event. Bruno looked the part of someone who would fit into high society, and you hope the same can be said for you. From how he complimented you earlier, it induced enough confidence to make it this far. 

The chauffeur pulls in front of the grandiose restaurant, and you watch as men and women dressed in designer clothing worth more than months of your paycheck climb out of sports cars. This is a large jump from the picnics and gelato outings Bruno had taken you out on before. Up until today, where romantic intentions could clearly be sighted, you only thought your relationship with him was friendly. The bouquet of deep, crimson roses he presented to you when you answered the door earlier made sure there were no confusing his intentions. 

He gets out before you, coming over to your side and opening the door. Accepting the hand that he extends out, the two of you stay close together while walking towards the front of the restaurant. Up until now, it felt like another world entirely, until you heard the familiar sound of waves crashing against the shore. The inside is as luxurious as you could imagine, fine glass chandeliers hanging overhead and classical music being played live. Candlelight dots the tables, the glow setting a romantic atmosphere. 

Bruno speaks a few words to the hostess while you gape at the surroundings. It’s hard to believe that just this morning, you had been eating a ham sandwich to save money for bills. Now you stand in one of the grandest spots in Italy, surrounded by socialites. No one pays you any heed, much to your internal relief, instead showing the utmost respect to Bruno. He turns back to you, smiling, and the two of you are led to a private room overlooking the ocean. 

“If I’m being honest, I feel a bit out of my element here.” A nervous laugh leaves your lips as you take your seat, smoothing out the bottom half of your dress. The fresh water on the table is a welcome excuse to have something in your hands, and you take the opportunity to steady yourself. Gingerly picking up the glass by the rim, feeling the coolness against your fingertips as you do so.

“You look the part,” Bruno responds in kind, steepling his fingers together and setting his head atop them. “I apologize if the atmosphere feels stifling, signorina. It isn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.” 

Shaking your head, you place the cup down after a few sips. “Not at all. It’s beautiful, the view especially. I know I said it earlier, but… thank you for inviting me.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I’ve been wanting to take you out for an evening for some time now, but I’ve been preoccupied up until this point.” 

This catches your attention, an eyebrow raising in interest. Bruno has rarely spoken of his occupation, claiming the details would be a bore, but that must be what he’s referring to here. It was one of the few aspects of him that he didn’t delve into, and not wanting to seem invasive, you left it as is. Now seems like a prime opportunity to learn more about it, curiosity getting the better of you. You choose your words with care before proceeding.

“Is it a… busy season in your line of work?” You inquire with interest, hoping it doesn’t seem like you’re prying. The question is innocent enough, Bruno’s sought to learn more about your job, to which you readily answered him. His tone of voice and mannerisms, whether it be on purpose or not, always seems to command respect. It’s an aspect of him you and many others in his presence picked up on, always straightening their back in his presence and properly addressing him. Is he a politician or something…? 

“You could say that.” 

The opportunity is fleeting, a waiter coming over and paying great reverence to your dinner partner for the night. It’s a shame you won’t be able to push the topic further, having been interrupted and the conversation steering elsewhere. Bruno had asked beforehand if he could order in your stead. Seeing as he’s more familiar with the menu and charms of Nepotalian cuisine, you accepted, taking the opportunity to learn more about the food here. Some of the words he uses when placing an order for your antipasti you recognize, whereas others must be a dialect exclusive to this city. After the waiter hurriedly scribbles down and scurries off, Bruno’s attention is returned to you.

“So tell me, how are things with you? It’s been, what, a week or so since we last met in person?” 

You nod your head to confirm, nose scrunching while thinking back on your past experiences. Truth be told, it hasn’t been the best past couple of days. The other tenants in the apartments beside you have been obnoxiously loud at unholy hours into the morning, and no matter how politely you asked them to tone it down, it made no difference. Your landlord, to make matters worse, had been on about some special fee that you need to meet by the end of the month. When looking back on your agreement, you saw nothing of the sort. You wonder if he’s trying to take advantage of the fact you’re not a native Italian speaker, but finding a new place to live on such short notice would be a nightmare. This, and you’ve been having a difficult time aligning your schedules with your friends.

“It hasn’t been the easiest,” you confess with a sheepish smile, folding the napkin from the table onto your lap. That’s what you’ve seen in movies, so it seems like the right thing to do in this proper setting. “I actually wanted to talk to you about it, but it might not be the most proper dinner topic.” 

Bruno raises an eyebrow at this, before prompting you to continue. “Oh? I’d love to be of assistance to you.” 

The order comes out as you explain your sticky predicament. What appears to be octopus cooked alongside tomatoes and chili peppers, mixed into a leafy green salad with a zesty lemon dressing. The flavor bursts onto your tongue, spices complementing one another perfectly as you wrap up your woeful tale of adulthood. Bruno’s attention remains solely on you throughout, looking increasingly perplexed as you recount the problems, jaw tightening with agitation on your behalf.

“It might be in your best interest to end the lease then,” Bruno considers aloud with a sorrowful expression, shaking his head in dismay for your misfortunes. “The fee for doing so would still be less than having to pay that ridiculous sum every month.” 

It’s an option you considered with great displeasure. Shelling out all that money to end your lease early is a nightmare to think about, hundreds gone in the span of a second over an arbitrary bill, tacked on at the last second. The legality of it is up in the air, but your knowledge of the law surrounding tenants in Italy is… lacking, to say the least. Bruno’s affirmation of your idea serves to sour your mood, and you almost regret bringing up this grim subject on what’s meant to be a date night. Even though you planned to seek his guidance on it eventually, now may not have been the best time to do so.

Placing a forkful of steamed octopus into your mouth, you lament over the issue further. “I guess I should start looking for a new place. Everything else within range of my job is ridiculously expensive, though, so it looks like I’ll be walking a lot in the future.” 

The lighthearted joke does little to lift your downtrodden spirits, your gaze now facing downwards. How pathetic Bruno must think you are, incapable of properly navigating your finances despite being an adult. It’s embarrassing to think about, your cheeks burning in indignation. He never once chastises you, instead extending his hand over the table, resting it gingerly atop your own. A gentle action like this is enough to soothe your troubled mind, the coarse pad of his thumb rubbing reassuring circles into your skin.

“To think you’ve been through so much in this short amount of time… I’m sorry to hear about all of this,” Bruno’s words are soothing to your weary soul, maturity present in his visage. You feel better about talking to him already, sensing he has a great deal of life experience. “I’ve made up my mind. [First], why not live with me?” 

The sudden proposition sends your mind in a whirlwind, blinking rapidly while trying to gather your bearings. You’ve known Bruno for the time period of about three months, and while he’s been nothing but courteous towards you, there’s still a lot of secrecy surrounding him. You’d be pressed to say he isn’t charming, and that you don’t hold some form of affection toward him, but it feels so sudden. 

Sensing your apprehension, Bruno continues to explain in an attempt to smoothen other any concerns. “By all means, take time to think about the idea.” 

“I-It means a lot that you’d even extend the offer to me,” you stumble over your words truthfully, gulping to get a hold of yourself. “I’d feel awful to impose on you, especially on such short notice. You’ve been so considerate of me already…” 

“You could never impose. I hoped I’d made my feelings for you clear, [First]. Anything you need, I want to provide it. Please, allow me to do so.” 

He’s earnest, willing to overcome your apprehensions with thoughtfully crafted words and sentiments. Vacillating between two halves of yourself, you consider the options set before you. The romantic atmosphere from the restaurant is long forgotten, as you enter a reverie of contemplation. There isn’t a better option that you can think of, none of your friends living close enough or even open to the idea of a roommate. The time of splitting rent would be productive as well, letting you bolster your already deplenishing savings. Bruno has never given you reason to be alarmed, you trust the man before you. 

“In that case, I’ll continue thinking about it.” You answer after a moment’s deliberation, Bruno offering a nod of the head in acceptance. He retracts his hand from your own, and you can’t help but miss the warmth and reassurance it brought. Throughout your stay in Italy, you’ve felt like a stumbling mess at times. Sure, you’re capable enough, but wading through multiple decisions while balancing your job has been a lot to deal with. Bruno, on the other hand, feels so well put together. There’s never a moment in your interactions where he falters in his decisions, always full or resolve to see things through. He feels like a pillar of support in your life, a foundation that you cling to without even noticing it. This level of reliability is what you desperately need right now.

The air is silent for a moment, aside from the clattering of silverware against plates and muted chitchat from the other patrons. You look down to your lap, feeling the full weight of his stare set upon you. It feels like the evening has been getting away, running off in a direction you didn’t mean for it to go. After all the work he’s put into treating you to a nice night out, it feels impolite to ruin the mood any further. Putting on your best, brightest smile, you swiftly change the subject.

“I never realized seafood could taste so good,” you praise the meal before you, that’s been reduced to a shadow of its former self. Only a few crumbs remain in the bowl, a nice appetizer before the food to come. “A lot of the seafood I’ve had is either chewy, or just tastes strange. Whatever you picked out is amazing.” 

“A lot of it depends on the quality of the product itself. I grew up in a coastal town, so I know how to spot the difference. For octopus, the best method is the aroma. The same can be said for most seafood…” 

The remainder of the evening is spent in the throes of conversation ranging from lighthearted topics, to discussions about your plans for the future. Bruno revealed a bit more information about himself, but still not enough to sate your deeply rooted curiosity. His offer from before stays present in the back of your mind, but you do everything within your power to not think dwell on it. After having dessert from his behest, the two of you make your way to the entrance once more. You can’t fathom the bill after a dinner like that, but Bruno refutes any attempts to split it, following up his earlier offer of paying for it in full.

“Thank you for everything,” you express your gratitude while getting up from the chair, glancing out the window a final time. When you look back to Bruno, his attention is set solely on your presence, eyes softening considerably. It makes your heart flutter, how he looks at you. “I enjoyed my time with you.”

“And as for your offer…” 

There hasn’t been a great deal of time to think about it, but your chest feels light, like an invisible weight had been lifted. The man before you is an anchor that you never knew you needed, fastening you down in the wake of travesties. He’s well put together, offering you every courtesy known and making for delightful company. Whether what you feel is the beginning of love, or a platonic attachment, you’re uncertain. To discover things for yourself, and get a better bearing on your life, you’re ready to make a leap of your own. It reminds you of the time before moving here, this decision is minuscule in comparison to that… right? You’re not making a deal with the devil or anything. 

“I think… I think I’m going to accept.”

- - -

Anytime moving is involved, it’s a stressful endeavor. You know this firsthand, having come to Italy with a few things of luggage and starting off a new life with it. Much to your surprise, everything went far smoother than you imagined. Unlike your arrival, you had help in moving your boxes of belongings to Bruno’s villa, leaving you with little to do aside offering plenty of thanks. It felt like the start of an exciting new adventure, turning over a new leaf after a string of misfortunes. Leaving behind your old apartment building felt strange, but oddly right. Working through the manner of cutting your lease short was as awful as it sounds, but Bruno was by your side for all of it. 

What you can’t get off your mind, is how different your landlord acted in Bruno’s presence. When it had just been the two of you, you were treated with a complete lack of care, like your existence itself as a nuisance. There was a complete shift in demeanor upon walking into his office with Bruno by your side, like you were speaking to a different man. It reminded you of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, how he retained the same physical characteristics but adopted polite mannerisms. The whole exchange had been so jarring that you couldn’t help but ask Bruno about it, to which he offered a lackluster explanation. This haunting occurrence made you have more questions about his cryptic line of work, that you’re only fed spoonfuls of information at a time.

The two of them knew one another, but you don’t get the full spectrum of their relationship. It’s a gut feeling that it has to do with Bruno’s occupation, that he carefully skates around whenever brought up. 

Mostly settled in for the evening, you’ve been lounging on the balcony of Bruno’s home. It’s a quaint house, in the suburbs of Naples, further confirming that he’s well off to some extent. The ocean is within view, the house sitting in a gated community near the water. In the distance, you hear seagulls mixed with traffic over people coming home from their jobs. You hug your knees to your chest, staring down at your phone with a frown. It’s a mild summer day, the breeze from the ocean tickling your face, but not lifting your spirit. You had texted a few friends before your move in hopes of getting their assistance, only for none of them to return your calls or messages. 

It feels lonely. You feel lonely. 

If it hadn’t been for Bruno’s quick thinking and connections, it would’ve been the two of you moving boxes on your lonesome. This cold shoulder behavior hurts, and you can’t help but wonder if you did something wrong without knowing it. Had there been some sort of cultural aspect you were unaware of, that offended them? Is that why they’ve been ghosting you? It’s one thing if they were busy, but you see your friend group posting regularly on social media. A sigh leaves your lips, weariness from the week’s events getting to you. It won’t do any good to dwell on these things, but insecurities haunt you like a persistent cloud. 

“Is there something on your mind?” 

Your head whips around at the voice behind you, settling down when you recognize Bruno. He’s in lounge wear, and you flush at the domestic sight. He’s a sight to behold, lithe frame pressed against the door and awaiting your response. It almost feels like you two are a married couple, being this casual with one another. The thought serves to fluster you further, so you push it away. 

After all he’s done to assist you, it’d feel wrong to add friend troubles to the ever growing list. “N-not really, no.” 

Bruno frowns at this, coming out to join you on the balcony. He takes the seat closest to you, leaning forward and gazing deep into your eyes. A hand is pressed to your bare thigh, though it stops before it can travel up in a lascivious way. Feeling his cold hand against your skin sends shivers down your spine, his knowing eyes making you shrink back into your seat. Guilt seeps into you for the lie. He seems in tune with people’s feelings, you’re no different. Instead of calling you out point blank on the falsehood, he offers reassurance.

“Remember what I said,” his tone is almost chastising, face scrunched up in displeasure. “I care about you greatly, [First]. You don’t have to carry your burdens alone.” 

It comes before you can register. Tears sting the corner of your glassy eyes, silent sniffles leaving your person. As you think back to the images of your friends from last night, hanging out in one of your favorite spots with you, your lower lip trembles. Why is it that all this is happening? That you finally found a group of people that share your interests and passions, only to be left behind without an explanation? You despise how your throat clenches, each breath you take becoming more labored than the last. Bruno takes the opportunity to sit beside you, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulder and cooing into your ear.

All of it comes out like the floodgates of a dam, your head resting on his chest at his prompting. He holds you close, grounding you in reality, alternating between offering words of encouragement and peppering kisses onto your head. Your hands bunch up the fabric of his shirt, tears streaming down your face. No longer does shame occur to you, a forgotten thing of the past. You smell his rich cologne, that mixes in with the scent of the ocean. He’s been so good to you, too good. When the world has fallen apart, Bruno picks up the shards, placing them back together with tender care. Where would you be without his support? The thought is enough to bring a fresh set of sobs, self deprecating thoughts a mantra within your tattered mind. 

His warm breath fans across your face, soft lips making contact with the shell of your ear. “Amore mio, what is it that brought this on? Tell me, so that I can take care of it all.” 

“I have no one…! I don’t understand, none of it makes any sense,” you sniffle into his chest, voice muffled and waning. “My friends, even my coworkers! They act like I don’t… like I don’t even exist.” 

Large, reassuring hands cup either side of your damp cheeks, pulling you to look him in the eyes. His thumbs wipe away your tears, unblinking sapphire eyes steadying you. The world stops around you, nothing else registering other than his existence. How his skin feels against your own, the way his hair brushes against your face, how wonderfully close he is. He hasn’t left you, he’s still by your side. Your lips tremble, and you curse your wretched existence. A moment of clarity comes, and with it, your sobbing subsides. The two of you stay still, your face in his hands, until your hiccups are reduced to occasional sniffles. Even that fades with time, much to your relief.

You take a shaky, deep breath, hoping to gain better control of your fluctuating emotions. In the blink of an eye, Bruno leans forward, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. A noise of surprise leaves you, but before you can think to return it or move away, he pulls back. Looking up at you through heavily lidded eyes, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. The predetermined movement seems to have a physical effect on you, your face erupting into a blush. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions that Bruno brings with him.

“You’re wrong on a single account,” he murmurs, his voice sweeter than honey, ensnaring you in a web of his own making. “You have me, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

It’s strange, you think. How like two sides of the same coin, so much can go wrong, but an equal amount can go right. For every loss, Bruno has almost made up for it in some other way, an equilibrium being maintained. Will one side tip over, ruining the delicate balance, and sending you into chaos? There’s no way of knowing, yet you can’t help but wonder. Your life is interconnected to his now, for better or for worse. No longer do you care for the innate selfishness of seeking out his warmth, canting your head into his hand and closing your eyes.

“Thank you, Bruno. You’re right… I do have you.” 

He seems content with your realization, a gradual smile spreading across his face. The sun has begun to set, warm colors dancing across his tanned skin. After a moment’s deliberation, he leaves your side, standing and looking towards the glass doors that lead inside.

“Let’s head inside for a cup of tea. It’s been a long day, so you shouldn’t stay up much later.” 

You nod your head lazily at his suggestion, using the back of your hand to wipe away at the wetness that remains on your face. A nice warm drink sounds wonderful just about now, even in the middle of the summer. Having a task to distract yourself with is an added benefit, so you get up, following after him to the kitchen. The brisk air conditioning feels like a welcome wake up call, and you look around at the tastefully decorated surroundings. Your new home, for the time being. Life is unpredictable, if anything.

It has been an exhausting day. Or more like an exhausting past few weeks, you think. For now, your attention remains solely on the person who walks in front of you. A bashful idea pops into your head, and you catch up to Bruno and walk by his side. He looks over at you with potent curiosity, and the opportunity is present to offer a confession. “I, um… I wanted to say that you have me too. I mean it.” 

Little did you know, there was never a time he believed otherwise.

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Part 2

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: none

Words: 2.0k

Summary: to everyone she knew, [y/n] was a peasant, destined to be a servant just like her parents. To Zuko, however, she was his best friend. After losing his agni kai and being exiled, [y/n] was devastated. She thought she would never see him again. Three years later, she almost wished he never came back.

A/N: have a treat for getting through another week of 2021 :)

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

Series | Masterlist

A couple weeks had passed since [y/n] saw Zuko. When her parents asked how their reunion went, she said it went well. What she didn’t say was that all her excitement plunged down the drain the moment Mai and Azula showed up.

Her mom quickly found out about Zuko and Mai’s relationship. It wasn’t surprising. All the girls in the city dreamed of dating Zuko. Such a rumor would spread like wildfire. When it was brought up, [y/n] pretended to be happy for them. She didn’t want her parents to know that she was heartbroken. She didn’t need them to know her secret.

As the days went on, [y/n] pushed her feelings away and did her best to move on. Once again, work kept her mind distracted. And soon things went back to normal...until a messenger hawk landed on the window sill.

“[Y/n]!” Her mom called from the kitchen, “you have a message from Zuko!”

[Y/n]’s heart began to race. Despite her sorrow, she still got excited to hear from him. It was a nostalgic, like when she was a child waiting for that invitation to have a playdate. She left her bedroom to retrieve the note from her mother.

Dear [y/n], I’m sorry I couldn’t take you up on your offer to spend the day together. I’ve had a lot going on now that I’m back. Today, my father told my sister and me to take a vacation. We’re going to Ember Island, and Mai and Ty Lee are coming too. You should join us! Please let me know if you can come. Your friend, Zuko

[Y/n] had mixed feelings about Zuko’s invitation. She could count on one hand how many times she went on a vacation. The thought of taking a break and getting away from the city seemed nice. Zuko would be there too. Although he didn’t like her back, they were still best friends. It could be fun. However, his sister and his girlfriend would be there as well. That could ruin the trip.

[Y/n] shook her head. She was overthinking it. Zuko dating Mai wasn't the end of the world, and he wanted her to be there, so she should go. It would make him happy, and she truly valued his happiness. Surely [y/n] was capable of repressing her crush and not letting Azula get to her. She would be fine.

That was probably an overstatement.

The trip was...okay. Zuko was glad that [y/n] accepted the invite. However, his sister wasn’t too thrilled (though that was to be expected). Also, as expected, Mai was practically attached to Zuko. [Y/n] watched them from afar at the beach. She had to admit that she was at least a little jealous...maybe a lot.

“Here, this is for you,” Zuko said to Mai, handing her a seashell. Mai glanced at it and gave Zuko a snooty look.

“Why would I want that?”

“I saw it, and I thought it was pretty. Don’t girls like stuff like this?”

Yes, of course, [y/n] thought. She would’ve been over the moon if Zuko gave her a seashell.

Mai scoffed. “Maybe stupid girls.”

[Y/n] frowned. Was she a stupid girl? She sure felt stupid for coming here.

“Hey, beach bums! We’re playing next!” Azula shouted to Zuko and Mai, pointing to the people playing kuai ball. “Ty Lee, get over here!”

[Y/n] and the others gathered around Azula.

“Uh-uh,” Azula put her hand out to stop [y/n]. “You’re not playing. Teams of four only, and, besides, you’ll hold us back.”

“Hey!” Zuko barked at his sister.

“It’s fine, Zuko," [y/n] said, putting her hands up to diffuse the situation. "I don’t know how to play, so she’s probably right...” She shrugged her shoulders.

“See? I’m right. Let’s go.” Azula said pompously. She turned on her heel and headed toward the kuai ball court. Everyone else followed.

Watching Zuko and the girls play from the sidelines was normal for [y/n]. As a child, Azula usually let everyone but [y/n] play games with her, then Zuko would get mad, and [y/n] would just deal with it. She didn't dare cause trouble with the princess. But she deeply appreciated Zuko for standing up for her.

As the team of four destroyed their opponents (almost literally), [y/n]'s mind wandered. If I was nobility, I bet I would be playing too...but would Zuko have chosen me instead? Or would he be with Mai anyway?

After spending most of the day at the beach, the group went to a house party. Initially, the party hosts, Chan and Ruon-Jian, invited only Mai and Ty Lee. But, Azula, cunning and determined as always, managed to persuade the hosts to include everyone…even [y/n] to her surprise.

[Y/n] had never been to a house party before. The place was loud and packed with strangers. It was overwhelming to say the least. If it weren't for Mai, [y/n] would've stuck to Zuko's side. But, alas, she watched the love birds sit together, his arm around her shoulder. They were probably having a good time just like everyone else in the room. No one was standing awkwardly alone like [y/n].

Although she could’ve tried to mingle and make friends, she was far too anxious. So [y/n] sought refuge at the snack table. Nibbling on food kept her looking busy, while she prayed to the spirits for the night to go by quickly.

And perhaps the spirits heard her cries for help. Out of the corner of her eye, [y/n] noticed Zuko heading in her direction. Such a simple thing instantly brought her joy.

“Hey!” [Y/n] grinned.

“Hey.” Zuko replied sternly. He barely looked at her. Strange.

“So, um, how are you enjoying the party?”

He sighed dramatically, as he picked out some food. “Oh, it’s great,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Something was wrong. Before [y/n] could open her mouth, Zuko turned and walked away. Then, someone bumped into him and all the food fell to the floor.

“Hey, watch it! That food was for my cranky girlfriend!” Zuko snapped. [Y/n] kneeled down to clean up the food (it must have been her housemaid instincts). When she stood up, she saw Zuko run over to Ruon-Jian, who was talking to Mai, and push him. The poor boy almost crashed into [y/n].

“Hey! What are you doing?” Asked a very stunned Ruon-Jian.

“Stop talking to my girlfriend!” Zuko demanded, pointing an accusatory finger to the host. His other hand was tightly balled into a fist. [Y/n] could practically see the smoke coming out of his hands.

“Relax, it’s just a party—”

Zuko forcefully shoved Ruon-Jian back into a tall vase, which shattered to pieces. Suddenly the room fell silent. People all around them stopped talking to stare.

Mai began yelling at Zuko, and Zuko yelled back. They fought and bickered until Mai finally said it, “it’s over, Zuko. We’re done.”

[Y/n] gawked at the commotion. It all happened so quickly and it seemed so out of the blue. As kids, there were times when Zuko had lost his temper, but this was different. She had never seen Zuko rage to the point of becoming physical before.

“Who broke my nana’s vase?!” Chan cried, running into the scene. Ruon-Jian simply pointed to Zuko. Chan turned to him and aggressively gestured to the door. “That’s it! You’re out of here!”

“I was just leaving,” Zuko growled. He stormed out the front door and slammed it.

I better talk to him, [y/n] thought. She quietly slipped through the crowd of partygoers and left the house. Zuko was angrily walking along the path away from the place, hands still in fists and shoulders tensely raised.

“Zuko!” She called to him. He ignored her.

“Zuko, wait!” [Y/n] jogged to catch up to him. Still, Zuko kept walking. “What happened?” She panted.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

"But--"

"You heard what I said!" He was still fuming and needed to cool down first.

“Okay, okay…" [Y/n] paused before quietly asking, "can I walk with you?”

Zuko hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily. “Yeah, sure.”

Together they walked down the path to the beach. Neither of them said a word. They just silently strolled along the shore side by side. Waves lapped at their feet, providing a nice, calming ambiance. Several minutes passed, then Zuko turned and started up another path. It led up a hill to a large beach house. The house appeared to be abandoned as the garden outside was severely overgrown.

“What is this? Where are we?” [Y/n] wondered.

“My family’s beach house,” Zuko responded in a much more collected tone.

The two walked up the front steps. Zuko tried to open the door, but it was locked. He stepped back and forcefully kicked it open. [Y/n] reluctantly followed him inside.

“We haven’t been here in a long time,” Zuko explained, “we used to come every summer...when we were actually happy.”

A long time indeed. It was obvious that the house had been vacant for many years. Floorboards creaked with every step, a layer of dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung every corner. A peculiar, stale smell made [y/n]’s nose crinkle.

Zuko extended his hand out and generated a flame. With the dim light, he walked up the large set of stairs in the foyer. [Y/n] followed.

On second floor was a large painting: a family portrait from a different time. Firelord Ozai and his (former) wife, Lady Ursa sat next to each other in chairs. Beneath them sat two children: Zuko and Azula. They looked to be very young, around the age when [y/n] had met them. Everyone was smiling.

Zuko gazed nostalgically. So much had changed in his life since this portrait was painted. It was no wonder his family no longer came here. If one were to pinpoint when it all went downhill, it would be Ursa’s disappearance.

[Y/n] placed a hand on his shoulder. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“Every day,” Zuko mumbled.

“I'm so sorry, Zuko…” she whispered.

“Yeah…” Zuko paused before speaking again. “I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. And I'm sorry you saw me get so angry at Mai and those other guys.”

[Y/n] nodded, accepting his apology.

“When I was exiled, all I felt was bitter anger and frustration. I thought restoring my honor and coming home would be the only way I could be happy again. Well, I’m home now and I have my honor back, so I should be happy, right? But I’m not, and I don’t know why. Now, I’m just confused.”

“I’m sorry, Zuko” [y/n] said. “I don’t know what I can do to help you.”

“It's okay. I don’t even know how to help myself.”

[Y/n] thought for moment. She had to say something to make him feel better.

“It's not very helpful, but I can tell you this. Everything will be okay. Maybe not now or tomorrow, or even the day after...but if you give yourself time, you’ll figure it out, and then, everything will be okay.”

Zuko turned to [y/n]. He stared at her for just a moment before hugging her. [Y/n] wrapped her arms around him, returning the embrace.

“Thank you, [y/n]. Even after all these years, you’re still here for me."

“Of course...I care about you.” She did, in more ways than Zuko would know.

Zuko pulled away, but kept his hands on her shoulders. He was so close to [y/n], she could almost feel his warm breath tickle her nose. It made her cheeks flush. [Y/n] watched his amber eyes wander all over her face. Everything felt so still and quiet all of a sudden. Even [y/n]’s mind went blank. His lips parted slightly, and she could’ve sworn she saw Zuko lean in a little...

“There you are. I thought I’d find you here—”

Zuko immediately let go of [y/n] and whipped his head around. Behind him at the top of the stairs stood Azula. She cocked her head and crossed her arms.

“Did I interrupt something?” She asked articulately.

“No.” Zuko answered quickly.

“Alright then…come down to the beach. This place is depressing.”

While the three of them returned to the shore, [y/n]’s mind rambled relentlessly.

What was that? Did he just...? No, no, I must be crazy. It didn’t happen. It was nothing. It was dark, my mind must've been playing tricks on me. I was just imagining things. Yeah...imagining it all. He wouldn’t...kiss me…would he?

Taglist (open!): @aangsupremacy @kaylove12

[greengrungeemo]

After completing Higurashi When They Cry Hou - Ch.5 Meakashi... I find it puts everything into perspective. I may need to publish multiple posts just to get it all on paper. This will be my in-depth analysis on it all. Spoiler warning, though, I’ll be as delicate as possible.

I can definitely say that this chapter was composed with the most raw of emotions, and succinctly denotes the decline of human mentality.

From the beginning of the story, I already caught the fidgety nature of Shion - the moment she escapes from the school, she has an underlying anxiety shielded by her flirty and playful character. What I found most fascinating was her notebook entries, notably pg. 5, pg. 19, pg. 26, pg. 150, and pg. 165, illustrated below. She records her thought-process and developing emotion as it goes. It’s all captured there. The curiosity of the warm, fuzzy feelings that are occurring. The discovery of being in-love. Pinpointing what captures her heart about him. The impending loss and coping with it. The lack of coping and driver of action. The inevitable despondence and despair. After all information is collected, and once the well is dry of clues, then ignites the blame game. With blame comes condemnation and spite... and with growing spite comes aggression and violence. With aggression and violence comes ensuing mortality, and with murder comes far more mental noise and sanity loss.

It’s like a full circle of true bliss and happiness devolving into agony and insanity. Happier than you ever were before... then it’s all taken from you, stripped away, and buried into questions that cannot be answered no matter how much effort you put. It’s no wonder Satoshi’s loss added such powerful strain on Shion Sonozaki... To deal with those raw emotions? Once logic and problem-solving measures yields no results, that’s when a clear picture becomes exponentially blurred, only intensifying the more you fall deeper into it. I caught myself mentally telling her, “Slow down, Shion. You’ll have your answers soon enough. Some things cannot directly be changed in the world. Some circumstances cannot have intervention.”

Based on how she describes Satoshi is contrast to Keiichi, it’s evident what her type of man is. Once she found him, it’s only him now. No other man can compare. Satoshi is gentle, naïve, airheaded in many facets of life (including but not limited to, ordinary activities like shopping or sports), softhearted, higher empathy than most, and unfortunately suffers a lot mentally due to abuse at home, among other things. This fits all of what Shion loves, and due to her protective and obsessive nature, him suffering furthers her love and dominance over him and his affairs.

That said, there’s also a dominate vs. dominant complex going on. While she feels prowess in aiding and advising Satoshi on typical no-brainer tasks, he still has a dominating feature which conversely is his gentle pets. It freezes her on the spot and she’s instantly incapsulated by his touch. It’s so sweet. A beautiful dynamic unlike any other I ever witnessed.

As the feelings of love flourishes, so too do the feelings of growing spite and hatred towards all who oppose or negatively affects Satoshi. Shion begins to despise Satoko for her role in relying on Satoshi for emotional and protective support.

This is what drove a mental decline for Shion, as her obsessive and recurring thoughts happened, she reinforced them with compulsive repetition. Repeating these thoughts with emotions of fear and sadness associated with them is a recipe for disaster... a turning point for her wellbeing. Despite this increasing mental noise, Shion I would say, has a strong feminine emotional intelligence. She is opportunistic overall with feminine cues, just like how she boasted to Mion, “That just means you can’t slack off for even a moment, Sis, because you’ve got a rival. Tears can attract men, but they don’t anchor them. You should always be smiling, but cry when it really counts!” 

I think we can all relate on this one. We all wish to appeal to the one we love, and the ones who love hard... tend to do the more drastic measures to be in their light, like changing themselves or picking up the hobbies they enjoy, etc. It is psychologically known that opposites do not attract, so employing these changes generally work in your favor - but at what cost? This leads into my next point...

Identity. As her mental state declines, her internal identity crisis intensifies. She had it buried within her the whole time. Her entire life since birth, she may feel as though her twin cast a shadow over her. Sure, she brushed it off with pride and flair to differentiate, but at the end of the day, they are identical twins. One was cast aside, and one was titled the next Sonozaki heir. It is perspicuous what this emphasizes... One is better, or at the very least, more fitting than the other. A lost sense of self, a castaway, sent off to a faraway prison or “school” whilst the other shines brightly... It’s evident what damage this caused Shion internally. While I cannot fully grasp what she feels, since I don’t have a twin, I can only begin to imagine the immense mental weight this put on her and her identity. Her loss of identity and low self-esteem internally connects directly to her own reliance on Satoshi. She NEEDS him in order to clear away that mental noise, to give her that boosted sense of self, and to love passionately for a fuller life.

This was the creation of his presence. Her brain protectively created a Satoshi presence to fill the gaps, to finally garner that peace of mind she deserves. It is all in vain, unfortunately, as nothing can compare to the power of his touch, or the sight of his naivety or shy disgruntled nature.

After having an alter ego for years and years, I know the pain and hardship. Though, while I may not know exactly how Shion felt, I do fully connect with plenty of it. I too, would be just as reactionary and passionately murderous if the love of my life disappeared without answers. There were just so many stages where she could have caught herself? I know how hard it must be to lose the one-and-only, and I know how it feels impossible to feel sane, and I also know how that alter-ego, that demon, that presence, can ensnare you without ever feeling like it would let go... but, after getting help... I promise that it does. I sought out professional help for my own mental noise and alter ego and identity crisis, and the medication and therapy helped me more than I can ever ask for...

I only wonder if this could have been prevented had she sought medical help from Dr. Irie. In conclusion, a fantastic in-depth chapter. I loved every bit of it!

[strangerobin]

Rue: Chapter 3 (A Jasper Hale x OC Imagine)

A play of hide and seek.

Writer's note: I had initially intended for this to be a reader insert piece, but it gets difficult trying to write without a name. So I decided for an OC instead lol

“Welcome to Northern Lights Resort and Spa, how may I help you?” Adeline smiled as she welcomed the next set of guests at the front lobby.

She’d moved to Whitehorse where the city was permanently covered with white snow and blanketed by the night sky more than half of the day. Found a part time job at the local resort, rented a run-down flat in downtown. It was cold and dark and it was everything she needed and loved.

Depression always did look good on her, as Tatiana would say.

But Tatiana would not think to find her here, nor Father, or anyone else for the matter. And she was safe, free to wallow in self pity and self loathing; free to ruminate on every last regret she had.

Thursday nights were reserved for movie nights; the local cinema showed sepia movies every Thursday nights, and it was nostalgic to see Audrey Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor and all those stars again on the big screen, she was always addicted to the motion pictures back then.

She even managed to keep a fling on the side. A young college boy with golden curls, though his eyes were not quite the right shade of brown, his were too dark. And she wished he wouldn’t talk so much of his self absorbed art pieces, she’d rather he talked about the literature he should be reading instead. She’d picked a copy of Frankenstein from the local book store again, and he’d only given it a side glance and never returned to it again. But he was a warm embrace in the dead of the night, so she guess she’ll let it pass for now.

Other nights though, she would walk out alone in the reserves, hunting, mesmerised by the Northern Lights, solar winds from the sun meeting this earth’s atmosphere, deflected by the earth's magnetism to become polar lights that twist on itself to form an array of colours. It made her feel small, reminded her that she did not mattered, that nothing mattered.

“Your rooms are on the fifth floor, the lift is just past the lobby on the right. Please enjoy your stay here.” Adeline recited her lines, directing her guests on their right way.

It wasn’t much really, but mundane was good, habits made her feel safe. She’d managed to carve out a little safe haven for herself in this gigantic world.

It was enough for now.

Until she felt the strangest sensation in her chest. It had begun as a dull ache, so insidious she did not notice when it first started. Not long after, the pain began to come in waves, crashing, clenching at her heart so painfully she was starting to sweat. Adeline clawed at her chest. Mumbling an apology, she quickly ran to the back and folded into herself, sweating dropping down her brow as she tried to make the pain go away.

It didn’t feel so much as a physical pain. Nor was it the usual warnings that her instinct whispered. No, it was something else, something more emotional, something more primal.

What was happening?

It felt as if she was reminded of all the things she had lost in her entire existence, all the grief she could not hold. But there was another sharp tug at her heart, urging her to move in some unknown direction, lest she should regret.

The feeling only seemed to intensify as the seconds passed. And then she knew.

It was coming towards her. Whatever it was that her heart sought.

Just as the doors to the resort opened-

Adeline Ruelle did the only thing she was good at.

She ran.

In the exact opposite direction.

*

It took them quite a while to even figure out in which direction she had gone. It had taken Alice an even lengthier time to pinpoint which area she might be, scouring all her visions for a single blindspot. It was near impossible.

Jasper’s anxiety was quickly infecting the whole household; everyone could feel the tension in the air, electrifying. Edward and Bella had to take Renesmee to stay in their little cottage; even Emmett had been quiet for most of the days. Jasper mostly kept to himself in his room, oscillating between two extremes, bouncing on the balls of his feet and sitting hunched in the corner, frozen in his thoughts.

“North.” Alice had finally muttered on the tenth day. “Canada.”

From there on, it was another few weeks before the pair managed to locate their target working in a resort in Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada. Tracking her scent, and where the blindspots were appearing, but even that proved difficult. And by the time they had arrived, she had been gone.

Just gone. Her colleagues had no way of knowing where she had suddenly vanished to in the middle of her shift.

They did, however, managed to locate her little flat in downtown.

And possibly a fling or two.

Jasper had simply looked on in distaste at the man, never uttering a single word. Alice was left with the questions.

How long had they known each other? What did she tell him of herself? Did he have any clue where she might go next? On and on and on, which they gleaned pretty much close to nothing for the college boy. Jasper had simply rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands petulantly into his pockets.

Alice though, she did not miss the resemblance the man had with Jasper.

Then they had gone into the flat she had rented. Clearly she had been there before, hastily packing her, possibly, few possessions with her. Except one or two mass paperbacks she had evidently bought to pass time.

Alice watched as Jasper lingered on the little paperback edition of Frankenstein carelessly strewn over the coffee table. Watched as he fingered the cover of the book thoughtfully, then leafed through the pages of the book. When he caught her staring he merely shrugged.

“It was always her favourite.”

She did not miss it when Jasper quietly tucked the book into the pocket of his jacket.

*

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being. I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

“That’s a little too morbid, wouldn’t you say so darling?”

“On the contrary, I find it exceedingly accurate and befitting.”

“Come now.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “You are not a monster, darlin’.”

“And who’s to say I am not?” She challenged with steel in her eyes.

“Adeline.” He admonished softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “You could never be one.”

“And how would you know? Perhaps it is because I hide my fiendish side behind a mask so masterfully that I have deceived the world, and even you.” She hated the shrillness in her voice, the desperation she tried to conceal.

“Sweetheart, only my heart cannot deceive me. You have bared your heart and soul to me and I have seen, have felt the kindness and love overflowing from your heart. How could a monster possess of such?”

“And if I had committed crimes in my past?”

“Then I know with confidence that it was not out of ill intent on your part.”

“You are too kind, Jasper.”

“Am I now? Come let us read something sweeter darling.”

Adeline pouted. “You know it is only my favourite.”

“And I do not understand your morbid fascination of it.”

Adeline huffed in annoyance and Jasper laughed poking her in the cheek. “That being said.”

“The monster was never truly the monster Adeline. It was always Frankenstein. Remember when he said ‘Life, although it may be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.’”

“He loved life more than anyone else, he possessed the gentlest soul and a deep appreciation to life like no other. He deserved to live, to be loved more than anyone else.”

Adeline blinked in shock at Jasper’s passionate outburst and before she realised, a single tear had rolled down her cheek.

“Adeline?”

She leaned forward and to capture him in a passionate kiss.

*

Adeline awoke with a start. Turning away from the blinding sun, she rubbed her eyes blearily. What time was it even?

Certainly not the 1800s.

Misplaced memories. Huh.

Adeline tried not to let her mind wander back to her dream just now, and certainly not the man of her dream.

It was close to three months after that incident at Whitehorse, She was in Minnesota now, surely no one would think to look for her here. It wasn’t New York or Chicago or Seattle. Nowhere conspicuous, middle of the line, your average American midwestern state. Surely that would provide for some camouflage or something?

No matter.

She had far troubling things to be concerned of right now.

She had been going over it time and again since her flight. The incident at Whitehorse was strange really because in all her existence, she had never once felt that before, the strange pull at her heart. The ache in her chest.

Or not?

Something was goading at her in the back of her mind, to examine the incident closer, to remind her of certain memories she would rather not remember; but she refused to let anything surface.

She picked up her new copy of Fitzgerald - Tender is the Night.

She had a shift at the local bar in three hours. She was determined to be their on time and not go down some damned rabbit hole.

*

“It’s here.” Alice looked to Jasper as he took in the environment, the rain falling softly beside them in the chilly January night; the lights from the bar, the cheap building. She hadn’t yet met the girl, but Adeline sure did know how to blend in, finding the most ordinary of places to hide amongst humans. Places not too obvious, but also not too obscure, where no one would bother to look twice, or even think to look.

Jasper’s face was grim and his eyes set. He was radiating anxiety, probably without meaning to. She gently patted Jasper on the back to soothe him.

“It’s alright, I’ll go in first. You wait here for my signal.”

He only nodded.

Ducking into the threshold she was immediately assaulted by the barrage of lights and noise; it took Alice a few minutes before she caught sight of a head of brown curls at the bar table chatting with her fellow bar tenders, all the while cleaning glasses. She made a beeline for it.

“Adeline Ruelle?”

The girl turned towards her and assumed a businesslike front, ready to serve. But Alice did not miss the small tremor in her shoulders, the uncomfortable shift in position, subtle and quick as it may be.

Bingo.

She was evidently a master in concealing her emotions, her nervousness hidden behind a reassuring smile, anyone would have been fooled. Except Alice. She watched the bartender closely.

“I’m sorry Miss, we don’t have an Adeline here. I’m Cordelia, perhaps I can get you a drink first while you wait for your friend?”

“Bourbon, if you would be so kind.”

“Just a minute.” She turned to get the drink and Alice took her time to appraise the girl.

She really was beautiful. Alice thought. She might be posing as your ordinary college student/part time bartender, but the way she held herself, her grace and poise, it was something she could never lose even on purpose. And the breathtaking beauty, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was no wonder Jasper had loved her so completely, irrevocably in his past life. How could any man resist such an alluring woman? She could not be mad at Jasper for his choices in his past life; and judging by his recounts and the hardworking girl right in front of her, neither had anticipated the whirlwind of romance and the subsequent breakup when they first met. In fact she might just be a tad bit jealous of the bond they shared, she’d never in her life experienced something so strong and consuming. Sure she loved Jasper and no one could deny the love that they shared. But it paled in comparison to one the two shared. She was almost sure they were mates.

It still left her heartbroken all the same.

But then she remembered the first time she met Jasper; we’re not mates but if you would have me we could keep each other company until our mates showed up. I mean, two is always better than one right? It left her conflicted now; she was reaping what she had sowed.

Yet as Alice continued to observe the girl closely, she noted how her coworkers seemed to treat her as if she was just any normal college student. Talking to her, bantering lightly, she threw her head and laughed heartily. To them, She was just the right amount of charismatic it seemed. And her smell…

It was then she realised she did not catch ahold of her scent.

Had she concealed it? Could one even do so on voluntary grounds?

“Your bourbon miss.” Adeline returned, sliding a small glass across the bar table.

“So what brings you here, to Minnesota?” Alice decided to make a strike.

The bartender’s face twitched momentarily. “Pardon?”

“You don’t seem like you're from around here. You don’t look like it.”

“I mean, It’s a free country. Anyone can go anywhere really.” Adeline shrugged.

“Lemme guess.” Alice pretended to think all the while observing the other closely. “You’re from the South, aren't you? Like Louisiana, or Texas.”

“I’ve lived there, yes… but then again I’ve lived almost everywhere really.” The bartended shot her a tight-lipped smile, the stiffness in her posture even more profound now. “Well if you need anything just give me a holler will you? I hope your friend finds you soon.”

It was her.

Alice watched as she turned to smile at her coworkers and then ducked into the kitchen.

She was making her escape.

Well, they can't let her go that easily now can they?

Alice raced out of the bar immediately, searching for her companion outside the parking lot.

But she was only left with an empty parking lot as the wind blew and the rain fell harder than ever.

[thecatprince]

Brave

Read on AO3

Relationships: Prinxiety

Summary:  After the events of the day, Roman and Virgil hang out (more like freak out) and confess some feelings.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for the new Sanders Asides episode.

----

Roman looked at Virgil, his green eyes shining in a way Virgil had never seen before, his face practically glowing with the sheer amount of joy he felt. Virgil looked back at him, his eyeshadow turning a glittery purple, a huge smile on his face and his cheeks flushed with adrenaline. They had done it! They had actually done it! After hours of deliberation, anxiety and self-doubt, Thomas had finally talked to Nico, and it had gone better than any of them could have expected. He had gotten Nico’s number, and they had even texted a couple of times. Roman was over the moon, almost bursting with excitement, bouncing up and down where he stood. Virgil could tell there were so many things he was refraining from saying at that moment.

Virgil looked over at Thomas, who had finally managed to settle on the couch and looked quite a bit calmer since they had come back home. His pacing and hand flapping and talking to Nico (and of course calling Joan immediately and telling them everything) had helped in settling the overwhelming adrenaline and joy that they had experienced since they had gotten home. Virgil looked back at Roman, who was still clearly hyped up with emotions, and took his hand, sinking them both into Roman’s room.

The moment they got there, Roman leapt at Virgil, picked him up, and spun him around. Virgil could barely process what was happening before Roman had put him back down and was dancing in his spot. Virgil laughed, Roman’s energy feeding into his. He could feel his hands moving as he stimmed and squealed, a thrill of adrenaline rushing through him. Virgil calmed down a small bit as he moved, getting his emotions out, and he just stood there, watching Roman. Roman looked so happy, smiling brighter than Virgil had seen him in, well, ever. Roman’s green eyes were shining, his brown hair was falling slightly in his face and his cheeks were a soft red. Virgil hardly noticed he was staring until Roman looked back at him, his face practically glowing with joy. Virgil looked down, his eyeshadow fading a bit into a black with the slight embarrassment he felt at being caught staring like that, but Roman just moved forward and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly.

Virgil usually hated hugs, usually hated physical contact of any kind, but something about the fact that it was Roman touching him, Roman hugging him, made it bearable. More than bearable. Ever since they had become closer and started hanging out more and more, Virgil had found himself started to look forward to the little touches that Roman always gave him; a hand on his arm, leaning up against him, gentle nudges when he teased him, all of the little things. Virgil loved those touches. It filled him with a soft, warm feeling, gave him a feeling of comfort, made him feel safe and wanted. And now Roman was hugging him, pulling him close to his chest, lifting him off his feet slightly with how tight the hug was, and Virgil never wanted to let go. He wrapped his arms tightly around Roman’s chest, breathing the familiar scent that was Roman, feeling safe, comfortable, elated and something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Roman was the first to let go, and the moment he did Virgil found himself craving the warmth of his embrace.

Roman stepped back, facing Virgil, still buzzing with excitement. “We did it! We did it! You did it! Virgil, that was amazing! I can’t believe we did it! He gave us his number! We have texted him! This is it! Virgil WE DID IT!”

Virgil laughed at Roman’s yelling, still reeling slightly from the events of the day. They had done it! Virgil had done it! Roman put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and Virgil could feel his face heat up. Roman looked at him with an expression Virgil hadn’t seen before.

“Thank you, Virgil, for everything. No one has ever done anything like that before. That was really brave.” Roman’s voice had a certain fondness that made Virgil’s heart flutter slightly in his chest. This close proximity wasn’t helping. And there was that word again, brave. Roman thought he was brave. Roman, who put bravery and chivalry above everything else, who was always going on about being a hero, who was constantly going on about courage and slaying the villains, had called him brave. Twice.

“It was no problem, really-“

“Seriously, Virgil, what you did back there, it meant more to me than you could ever imagine. I know it was hard for you to do that, and I am eternally grateful for it. You are braver than me. I was ready to give up. But can I just ask, why?”

Virgil gave a small smile. “Because you were sad. You been so hurt lately, and I couldn’t let this be another thing that caused you pain. You deserve happiness, Roman, and if what I did made you even the slightest bit happy, then I would do it again and again. What you want matters, and you wanted this. And so did I.”

Roman was looking back at Virgil with a look that Virgil couldn’t quite identify on his face. He looked shocked and touched, and overwhelmingly grateful, but there was something there that Virgil didn’t recognise.

“You did it… for me?” Roman said, his voice an almost whisper. Virgil nodded, smiling gently up at Roman, who now looked like he was taking in information he had never expected.

“Yes, Roman, I did it for you,” Virgil said, looking gently at Roman’s face. His lips were slightly parted and his hair was slightly messy from his dancing… and there was that feeling again. That soft, warm feeling that stemmed from his chest and spread across his body. It made his heart flutter slightly, and his body feel light. It was the way Thomas felt whenever he had seen his previous boyfriends, that soft warm feeling, and similar to the way he felt today, when he saw Nico. And suddenly, Virgil realised what he was feeling. Love.

He loved Roman. He loved his dramatic-ness, his teasing, his love of theatre, his smile, the way he looked when he was just completely and utterly happy and the way he always seemed to make Virgil smile. He loved everything about Roman, from the constant Disney references and nicknames to the way he always seemed to find a way to cheer Virgil up. He loved Roman. Roman, who had spent years teasing and hating him, but still tried to make him feel welcome when he needed it most. Roman, who tried to be nice and accepting every moment afterwards. Roman, who had used their joint love of Disney to try and become better friends with him. Roman, who put in effort to be nicer and bond with Virgil. Roman, who, when he broke down after Janus’ acceptance and removed himself from the company of the others sides, still sought solace in Virgil’s company. Roman, who Virgil had comforted for many long nights afterwards. Roman, who loved deeply and had great passions, but still flinched whenever anyone said those three words. Roman, who would slay a dragon for the ones he loved, but struggled to take breaks when he was working on ideas. Roman, who worked himself to the bone whilst thinking of new ideas, and never thought highly of himself, but who Virgil loved, more than anything in this world. Roman, who was dramatic and over the top and plainly ridiculous at time, but who always had the best intentions. And Virgil loved him.

He must have been staring because Roman was giving him a funny look. His brows were furrowed slightly, his lips were pulled into a gentle smile, his green eyes seemed to twinkle with gentle amusement and his cheeks were flushed. Virgil had the strongest urge to kiss him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. He didn’t mean to say it aloud, but it just came out. He could feel his anxiety building rapidly and now he ruined it and gosh why did he say it of course Roman didn’t want to kiss him he didn’t even think Roman liked him like at and oh my gosh he had ruined everything.

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry I didn’t mean to say that it’s ok if you don’t I’m just –”

He was cut off by a pair of lips against his. They were soft and gentle and from the moment they touched his, Virgil felt like the world had stopped spinning. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, but they were easily the best few seconds of his life. Roman pulled away, and looked at Virgil, eyes sparkling and face a deep red.

“Yes, you can,” Roman said, his voice full of tenderness. Virgil moved forward and pressed his lips against Roman’s, kissing him gently. Roman responded, moving his lips against Virgil’s, resting his hands on Virgil’s neck and threading his fingers through Virgil’s hair. Kissing Roman was better than Virgil could ever imagine. Roman was sweet and soft and gentle and the kiss filled Virgil with complete and utter joy and love. That warm feeling in his chest spread to the rest of his body, and as the kiss deepened the feeling grew stronger. Eventually, when air became an issue, they broke apart, breathing heavily, lips slightly swollen. Virgil felt exhilarated and slightly light headed. He had just kissed Roman! And Roman had kissed back!

“Your eyeshadow, it’s purple again,” Roman murmured, cupping Virgil’s cheek with his hand and rubbing his thumb gently over the glittery purple eyeshadow.

“I guess that’s because I’m happy,” Virgil responded. It was true, he was incredibly happy, but he was more than happy. He was over the moon, exhilarated, still reeling from the excess adrenaline caused by the events of the day and the kiss. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he had actually kissed Roman!

Roman gave a huff of laughter, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead and pulling him closer. Virgil could feel Roman’s heartbeat through his shirt, and as the two of them stood there, swaying gently as they hugged, Virgil felt a calm warmth spread through his body, and he knew as long Roman was there, he would be ok.

--

Thank you for reading!! Comments are greatly appreciated!!

[penmansparadise]

Damon Salvatore Imagine Requested - Forever

* I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS POSTED* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNERS*

It’s been quite a while since I’ve posted any imagines!  I’m sorry for being MIA a lot, but I appreciate all of my followers.  Anyway, this was a request from my Wattpad!  Let me know what you guys think, and I hope you all enjoy it! Xx.

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Reader 

Warnings: Mild language and mentions of sex.  It’s also a little steamy in the beginning.

Word Count: 3324

_______________________________________________

His hands tangled in your hair, pulling slightly. You let out a low moan as his lips connected with your exposed neck. His tongue drew circles on your sensitive skin, and you were sure there was going to be a bright blue bruise when he was done. You let your fingertips trail down his toned chest feeling every muscle ripple under your touch. His right hand moved to cup your breast over your bra, earning another moan. He smirked against your neck and let out a breathy chuckle. The way his breath brushed over your skin sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes were closed in complete bliss when the front door flew open.

"Hey, Damon, I was curious if – OH MY GOD!" Caroline threw her hands over her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you had company."

You scrambled out from under Damon's wandering hands and pulled your shirt over your head. Standing up, you did your best to fix your hair, even though you knew it looked like a mess. Damon huffed,

"It's fine, Caroline. We were just catching up. It's been a while since I've last seen Y/N."

He smirked at you sending your stomach into a fit of butterflies. You could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks when he took your hand in his. You gave Caroline a curt nod as Damon led you out the door and to your car. As you fumbled around your purse for your keys, Damon's hands began to wander your body again. You giggled as he traced the curves of your body and then started to twirl a strand of your hair around his pointer finger.

"So," he said, "same time tomorrow? And, hopefully, we won't be disturbed."

You rolled your eyes at him, but leaned in and looked up through your eyelashes.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He smirked at you before planting a hungry kiss on your lips. You gave his chest a little pat, then got into your car and drove off watching his figure disappear in your rearview mirror.

You and Damon go way back. Back in 1895, you were considered the best seamstress in Mystic Falls, Virginia. Men and women alike would seek you out to patch up pants or create custom made clothes. Damon sought you out one day to make him a custom suit, and that's when your friends with benefits relationship began. It started out innocent. He would come back week after week to see you. At first, he would bring in shirts that needed new buttons or a pair of pants that needed to be tailored. But, soon, he would just start showing up. There was always a strong sexual tension between the two of you, and one day, in the small closet in your shop, you acted upon it. The rest was history. The two of you laid some ground rules:

1) No sex during work hours; only in the evening when no one will suspect anything.

2) No forms of PDA allowed including, but not limited to: hand-holding, kissing, hugging, and the like.

3) No pet names unless during sex.

And lastly

4) No feelings!

Your friends with benefits relationship lasted for years. It wasn't until the 1920s that things began to change. Stefan went through his ripper phase, taking Damon away from you. He left Mystic Falls, went to war, and off after Stefan, and you went to New York City. You went years thinking that he died in the war. That was until, fast forward to the present, you found yourself back in Mystic Falls and staring down the back of your beloved Damon at the old bar.

After that meet up, the two of you picked up right where you left off. For months, Damon would call you when he craved you and vice versa. At one point, you gave him a spare key to your house for late-night meet-ups. The rules were relatively the same, but somewhere along the line, you couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, you began to feel something more. When he would kiss you goodnight, your dead heart would jump alive. When he called you "love" or "baby girl," your whole body would tingle. There was never supposed to be feelings, and you kicked yourself for breaking the most important rule. You tried to push them away, but the harder you pushed, the stronger they grew. One night, after receiving a text from him, you were forced to face your feelings.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, taking in your clothes and slumped shoulders. Your throat already felt tight with the thought of what you had to do.

"Fuck," you said to your reflection.

You did one last once over before exiting your house and driving to the Salvatore Boarding House.

The house was dark, as it usually was during your late meet-ups. You entered the house like normal and went to Damon's room. Your footsteps and shallow breaths seemed to echo off the tall walls. You pushed his door open, and he was perched in his bed, shirtless and smirking, like usual. Instead of joining him, you stood in the doorway. Tears were already threatening to spill over, but you did your best to swallow them back. Damon could tell something was wrong.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

"No, Damon," you said, "I can't do this anymore."

You cleared your throat as his eyebrows arched upward.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

"W-why? If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm just," you stopped and took a slow but shaky breath, "I want something more with my life, Damon. We can be just friends, and that's it."

Damon's mouth fell slightly agape. He took a breath in to speak, but you cut him off.

"Just friends, Damon. Please."

His dark eyes were void of emotion as they bore into yours. He was quiet for a beat before sighing and simply saying,

"Okay."

You gave him a nod, then turned and walked out. As soon as you were walking down the long hallway, you let the tears fall. You knew the house like the back of your hand, so being unable to see where you were going was not a problem. It became an issue when you ran into a solid object you soon realized was Stefan. His hands gripped your arms, preventing you from falling. You kept your head down as you tried to wipe the sadness from your face.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Stefan," you said, doing your best to wiggle out of his hold, "I just need to go."

His feet were planted, and his hands did not slack.

"I'm not gonna just let you run out of my house crying. Come sit with me and have a drink."

You hesitated, staring at his empathetic smile before finally giving in. His smile widened as he led you to the sitting room. You and Stefan talked about everything and nothing all while drowning your feelings in bourbon. He told you what his favorite movie was, and you told him why you had a fear of flying. He detailed his darkest moments during the 1920s when he turned into The Ripper. You told him about life in the city and your affair with the notorious mob boss Lucky Luciano.

"You did not have an affair with Lucky Luciano."

"I'm telling you, I did! He was so tall and looked so good in those pinstripe suits. He bought me anything I wanted. Jewelry, purses, clothes, shoes, anything. And, he was a great kisser."

He just laughed at you before pouring another drink. Bottle after bottle was emptied while the two of you laughed throughout the night. At some time during the early morning hours, you ran out of liquor. Stefan had his arm draped over the back of the couch, and your head found residence on his shoulder. You were drunk, but you didn't care. It felt nice to be cuddled up next to someone fully clothed for a change. You nuzzled into Stefan's neck.

"You know, we've never actually bonded like this."

"Well," he said, already chuckling, "you were always too busy fucking my brother to notice me, so..."

You punched his arm lightly and threw your head back laughing.

"Oh, shut up!"

Your eyes met his and held his stare. His eyes were much softer than Damon's, and they looked at you with such patience rather than lust.

"I like this, though."

Your eyes darted down to his lips before finding his eyes again.

"I like you, Stefan."

He let out a light laugh,

"You're drunk, Y/N."

"No, seriously," you said a little too quickly, "I want to do this again."

"Me too."

The two of you held the other's gaze for a bit longer before you started to lean your head toward his. You knew that the liquor was making you more confident than usual, but you didn't stop. When he leaned in too, you knew for sure you wanted to kiss him. Your eyes shut just as his lips landed on yours. It was slow and sensual. His hand held the back of your head, deepening the kiss just slightly. It was nice, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but compare it to kissing Damon.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled you back to reality. You pushed yourself away from Stefan and brushed your fingers through your hair. When you looked up to see Damon's hard stare on you, your cheeks grew warm. Every feature on his face was more rigid than usual. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were as dark as his jet-black hair. Without dropping your gaze, he grabbed one of the empty bottles and grunted.

"I see you two had a good night."

Neither Stefan nor you said anything in return. Instead, you stood and grabbed your bag, avoiding Damon's stare.

"I should get going. Thanks for last night, Stefan."

He didn't say anything back as you rushed out of the house. Even as you were getting into your car, you could feel Damon's eyes on you. You ignored the heavy feeling in your chest as you drove off.

Damon moved on faster than you expected after that encounter. When you went over to see Stefan, Damon would always be wearing a different girl on his arm. You tried not to care, but your heart consistently betrayed you. It was only a few weeks after you and Stefan shared that kiss before he asked you to be his girlfriend. He took you to dinner, and just before he dropped you off at home, he popped the question. You said, "Yes," even though you felt your heart was not truly in it.

Much to your surprise, Stefan was the perfect boyfriend. He treated you like a Queen and took you on dates. He held your hand, opened doors for you, and brushed stray hairs out of your face.  His kisses were so sweet and innocent, something you never experienced before. He was everything you should have wanted.

About two months after you started dating, Stefan told you he loved you. He took you to a beautiful grove for a picnic date. It was so well planned. The flowers were in bloom, decorating your surroundings in a sea of vibrant blues and yellows. He had all your favorite foods neatly wrapped in cling wrap, and your favorite drink chilled to just the right temperature. The date was picture-perfect, but you could feel his energy was off. When he began to fidget with the basket, you started to feel sick. You knew what was coming.

"I know it's only been two months, but I've known you for years. I feel so comfortable around you, Y/N, and I feel like it's the right time to tell you how I really feel."

His eyes were so sincere when he took your hands in his.

"I love you, Y/N."

You looked down, feeling like you were going to throw up right there.

"Stefan."

The silence was deafening. But, when you didn't say anything else, Stefan let go of your hands and sighed in defeat.

"It's Damon, isn't it?"

"Stefan, please-"

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

You kept your eyes trained on the checkered blanket, too afraid to look up at him.

"You always have been."

A small sob escaped your mouth as tears poured out of you. Through hazy vision, you looked at Stefan.

"I'm so sorry, Stefan. I really tried to move past him. I tried to forget him, but my heart just won't seem to let me. I don't know what I have to do to let him go."

Stefan's eyebrows furrowed, and his face softened at your broken figure.

"It's okay, Y/N," he said, pulling you into a tight embrace, "I always knew. Don't be sorry for how you truly feel."

His hand smoothed down your disheveled hair as you continued to cry into his chest.

"I'll love you whether you're my girlfriend or just my friend. Do you hear me?"

He moved your frail body away just enough to make eye contact.

"I just want you to be happy, with or without me."

Your bottom lip trembled at his reassuring words.

"Thank you, Stefan," you said, nearly choking on each syllable.

He just nodded before pulling you back into his arms. He held you like that until your sobs turned into shaky breaths. When he thought you were calm enough, he separated your body from his and smiled playfully.

"So, I'm guessing we're breaking up, right?"

The two of you both chuckled, and you shoved his arm before nodding. You finished eating and, although you were no longer a couple, you still enjoyed your evening with Stefan. After cleaning up the picnic, he drove you home.

When he pulled up in front of your dark house, you turned to him.

"Thank you for everything."

"You know I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

You reached over the center console to pull him into a hug before exiting the vehicle. He waited for you to get inside then honked once as a "Goodbye." You waved to him before shutting the door. As soon as you locked the door, your living room lamp switched on. You stumbled back, nearly fainting until your eyes settled on the familiar figure sitting on your couch. Even though you urged your body not to react, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

"How the hell did you get in here?" You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Damon pulled out a key ring with a single key dangling from it. He twirled it around his finger with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Spare key, remember? Once upon a time, I would have to let myself in late at night because you were too lazy to get out of bed."

You rolled your eyes and groaned.

"Damon, I thought we agreed on not talking about that?"

He stood up, and you could tell something was off. His usual hard features softened, and he wasn't looking you in your eyes.

"Yeah," he said, balling his fists at his sides, "but I didn't know we agreed on not talking at all."

You stayed silent. His eyes finally landed on you, and it felt like a blow to your chest. Betrayal and pain played so clearly on his face.

"When were you going to tell me you were dating Stefan?"

You scoffed at him, unable to control your annoyance.

"I didn't think I needed to check-in with you."

"I'm your friend, Y/N! Usually, friends share that type of information."

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. All the emotions you had kept bottled up, your anger and hate toward him after you left that night, bubbled to the surface.

"You didn't inform me about every girl you fucked after me, and there were a lot! I really didn't see it as a big deal, Damon."

He stayed silent that time. The tension was almost palpable as the two of you stood there. His eyes were set on you, but you couldn't bring yours to meet his. You knew if you did, you'd break, and you had enough crying for one night.

"Stefan and I broke up anyway," you finally said, barely above a whisper.

You could hear the small breath Damon took in at your comment.

"You did? Why?"

You swallowed hard and tried to straighten your posture.

"He said he loved me, and I couldn't say it back."

"Why?" Damon said, voice low and gruff.

You could feel your knees weaken from his rasp. Even without using his hands, he had this type of effect on you. You groaned, mostly from annoyance at yourself.

"Damon, why did you come here tonight? I know it wasn't to get the juicy details about my break up."

He took a step toward you.

"Answer my question. Why couldn't you say it back?"

"Because I love someone else!" You said, eyes finally shooting up to meet his.

He was close enough to touch, and you had to refrain from reaching your hand out.

"Now," you said, "you have to answer my question. Why are you really here, Damon?"

His eyes raked over your body, sending chills coursing through you. When his eyes finally met yours again, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

"I miss you."

Your heart dropped. After all this time, he still only wanted you for pleasure, and nothing more. You let out an incredulous laugh and shook your head. You went to walk away, but he grabbed your hand and stopped you.

"And I want more this time. I want more than just sex, Y/N," he said to your back.

You slowly turned to face him again, ready to listen. He ran his hands through his already messy hair and sighed.

"I want to know your favorite color and your favorite novel. I want to know why you can't sleep without a fan on, and why you're scared of flying."

His eyes were pleading as they held your gaze.

"Dammit, Y/N, I want to know all about New York City in the 20s, and how good of a kisser Lucky Luciano was!"

You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn't form a sentence. For a moment, you just stared at him in shock.

"You were listening that night?"

He dropped his gaze to stare at your dainty feet.

"I want to talk to you like that, and kiss you when we can't talk anymore."

Silence fell between the two of you. You kept your eyes on him, waiting patiently for him to look at you. When he finally did, his normally sharp stare was so gentle.

"Who do you love, Y/N?"

"Damon-"

"Who do you love?"

Your whole body was on fire under his soft stare. You looked from his eyes to his lips and back, desperately wanting to feel his lips on you again. Every nerve in your body was on alert as you felt his large hands carefully grab yours. You took in a short breath to muster up the strength to speak.

"You, Damon."

A smile of relief took over his face before he moved his hands to the sides of your face, and pulled you into a kiss. Your body tensed at first but soon melted into his touch. You trailed your hands up his arms until they found the back of his neck. Your nails dug into his flesh as you held onto him, afraid that he would disappear if you didn't. His lips moved so smoothly against yours.  When he finally pulled away, you were breathless.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I always have, and I always will."

"I love you too, Damon. Forever."

He smiled before planting a sweet kiss on your nose.

"Forever, Y/N."

[guiltysecretpasttime]

The Right Beifong

This fanfic was somewhat inspired by @roseagate 's post , but going a different route.

Preview: 

For all the bad blood between them, there was no one else that the Beifong sisters would trust with their secrets but each other.

One might argue that guilt may have motivated Suyin’s actions. Lin learned not to question it, not when a secret has remained undetected for more than a decade.

Who knew that it would all unravel in a hospital room in Republic City.

-----

For all the bad blood between them, there was no one else that the Beifong sisters would trust with their secrets but each other.

One might argue that guilt may have motivated Suyin’s actions. Lin learned not to question it, not when a secret has remained undetected for more than a decade.

Who knew that it would all unravel in a hospital room in Republic City.

-----

Briiiing! Briiiiiiiiing! Brii-!

A gray-haired metalbender extended her arm from under the blankets and silenced her alarm clock immediately.

It was like any other day – another weekday, another workday, another day in the life of Chief Lin Beifong.

She got up and left her bed unmade (if it was good enough for her to sleep in last night, it would be good enough for her later tonight), mentally going through her tasks and schedule for the day. Stretching as she padded to the bathroom, she rubbed her face, flinging away the lingering grasp of sleep.

Stepping under the spray of lukewarm water, she lathered up. She gingerly soaped a two-day old wound near her left rib. The wound was small but deep; a perfect candidate for a new scar.

Chief Beifong did not have a lot of concern over her multiple scars and bruises. She had acquired several through out the years in service.  As she let the lather run down her body, she recalled where she got each of them, welts and scars that stand as various badges of honor that denote bravery (or foolishness) while on duty.  

There was one particular scar, however, that Lin Beifong regarded as a symbol of all that is precious to her, a hidden sacrifice made, one that she values more than any accolade given to her as Chief Beifong.

-----

On the other side of Republic City, beyond the bay and on Air Temple Island, Tenzin just finished joining a meditation session for the (new!) airbenders. Never in his life would he have imagined that his wild older brother would have successfully led a calming meditation session. Never mind the notion that Bumi would the epitome of the fun-loving airbending Air Nomads that their father knew from his childhood – it had sounded so absurd ten years ago.

But now, Tenzin could barely get back home without nodding at an airbender in greeting. Harmonic Convergence brought back the Air Nation without any form of intervention from him and his wife.

His wife…

He also greeted his wife with a nod as he passed the kitchen on the way to his study. Breakfast will not be ready in the communal dining area until half past the hour, so he had time to spare.

He flipped open the newspaper an acolyte had delivered to his study, as always. With the Kuvira debacle having been wrapped, the master airbender hoped to read good news or trivial matters from the papers. At the corner of the front page was a feature on the latest activities of the Republic City Police Department. He frowned to himself.

It was one of his secret past times – which he found himself clinging to as of late – keeping tabs on the life of the Chief of Police.

There was not anything wrong with what he was doing, just a friend checking on the welfare of another friend.

The past years had brought him back closer to this childhood friend (at least, closer than it had been for a decade or so). The fast pacing of the events that the Avatar brought about left him (or them? He wondered) little time to reflect on this rediscovered friendship.

But now, the past months following Kuvira’s sentencing presented him opportunity to delve into his thoughts (there’s still a lot to be done in the Earth Kingdom, of course, and Republic City is still adjusting to the new spirit portal – but it was relatively tame compared to the escape of the Red Lotus).

While the city was still busy in rebuilding and getting back on track, Tenzin realized with a pang that his interactions with Lin are now limited to being in the periphery (each had their own separate roles to play in the city). Their paths intersected less and less. He then started to rely on the news to hear about her (it was through the morning paper that he learned of the skirmish that had injured Lin; he had half a mind to go to her office and demand that she take a day off to recuperate before he held himself in check – he did not have the right to do that, after all).

Having more time to process the events (and overanalyze them, a snarky voice at the back of his mind which sounded a lot like Lin) of the past four years, Tenzin could not help but wonder about the possibilities and batter himself with the what if’s.

Were all the pain and arguments that he had in past useless in light of the present reality? Would Harmonic Convergence bring about that many airbenders anyway without his involvement–thus making his sacrifice irrelevant? Then again, it was probably only his mother and himself who believed he had sacrificed what’s important to him in pursuit of his duty – his heart and her love.

-----

At the opposite end of Air Temple Island, Suyin Beifong was strolling with her husband towards the dining area. They had been en route to Zaofu when she decided to make a detour and drop by Republic City – Opal was known to be assigned to the area after all.

Post-Kuvira, the airbenders continued their peacekeeping missions – both in assistance to those affected in the Earth Kingdom and those impacted by the new spirit portal in Republic City.

Opal Beifong was tasked to join those aiding the latter.

Upon learning this, the Metal Clan’s matriarch breathed a sigh of relief, the farther Opal was from the Earth Kingdom disturbances, the safer she would be.

Or so they thought.

-----

Later that mid-day…

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly what happened as it occurred so fast.

One moment, Opal was moving some spirit vines, helping clear a pathway. The next moment, a sinkhole opened up, pulling her down. Several spirits had panicked, jostling and hitting her.

Alarm was raised as the young airbender fell unconscious, both from injuries brought about (inadvertently) by the spirits and falling headfirst into the sinkhole.

With the hospital still being rebuilt and the healers thinly spread, medical attention was paltry at best.

Kai had quickly headed to Air Temple island to get reinforcements; the severity of the injuries sustained would require a master healer.

Kya readily offered her services and Suyin and Baatar Sr. were immediately sought on the island. With the amount of bleeding, the healers had requested them to be on standby for transfusion.

Time was of the essence.

With the help of the acolytes, Kai and Kya loaded additional medical supplies on Lefty. They had just left the island when Suyin and Baatar Sr. came rushing to the courtyard, having been summoned by an acolyte.

Suyin was about ask her staff to ready their airship instead when Tenzin arrived, unhesitatingly offering Oogi to transport them to the hospital.

Tenzin adjusted the reins on Oogi while Su assisted Baatar Sr in getting unto the saddle. “Which hospital are we heading to?” He was not there when Kai had given the details.

Su said the name of the hospital then added, “But first we must go to police headquarters – let’s pick up Lin.”

The airbender gripped the reins tighter, coaxing the sky bison to rise towards the city. “We can go to the hospital first – I’ll drop you both then I can go to headquarters to get Lin.” He felt that the parents might need to get to Opal ahead and he said as much.

“I know but we need Lin there.” The younger Beifong sister insisted.

Catching Baatar’s eye who silently nodded, Tenzin changed course to head towards where Chief Beifong was. Su’s tone brooked no argument and it was not the right time to question her with Opal’s life on the line.

Oogi’s arrival at police headquarters was noticeable enough that the Chief of Police herself had come running to the forecourt.

“It’s Opal.”

Su’s proclamation caused all the blood to drain from Lin’s face.

Gathering her bearings quickly, she called out. “Captain Gupta! You’re in-charge until further notice.” Without further ado, she bolted herself beside her sister on the saddle using the metal cables.

If Tenzin found the sudden onslaught of emotion on the normally stoic metalbender’s face inexplicable, he did not dare comment on it.

-----

Kya had taken over from the tired healer at the hospital. She ran her hands over the airbender.

Opal’s condition was stable – for now, at least.

Most of the injuries have been addressed by the healers but the unconscious teen would still need blood replenishment. Any tonic or medicine that would contribute to blood replenishment was out of stock. Her chance now lies on actual transfusion; it needs to be hastened as Kya felt that part of her injury was spirit inflicted.

There was something odd about the child’s aura as well.

Now that she thought about it, she noticed it when she first met the Beifong but had thought nothing of it.

Now she wondered if that might be why the spirit injuries are affecting her differently.

The doors flung open and in entered the girl’s parents and to her surprise, her brother and the girl’s aunt as well.

“How is she?” The mother fervently asked, moving closer to the young airbender.

“She needs transfusion to counter the spirit-injuries.” Kya opened her palms upward helplessly. “Bolin and Korra had already brought in spirit water from the portal but,” She addressed the people in the room in general. “The spirit water does not seem to do her any good.”

“There must be something you can do.” Lin stressed out.

“Blood transfusion may work.” The waterbender proceeded to share the pros, cons and the chance rate of the treatment working. She asked for consent to go ahead with the procedure.

Before Su or Baatar can say anything, Lin agreed. “We’ll take the chance.”

Kya was about to clarify that it was parental consent needed when Su laid a hand on Lin’s shoulder. “We’ll do it.”

-----

Tenzin stayed with the Beifongs throughout the procedure.

After all, Opal was part of the fledgling Air Nation now, so it was the least he could do, he rationalized. It definitely was not because he saw how Lin’s shoulders slumped while Kya prepared for the procedure. It was also not because he saw how Lin sat alone and apart from her sister as Su curled against Baatar Sr, probably seeking some strength in her husband’s arms.

He ignored Lin’s protests when he volunteered for the transfusion as well. He pretended not to notice the significant look at the Su shot at him and Lin. He thought that his contribution would not be anywhere helpful but he could not (would not, should not) let Lin experience it alone (he refused to examine this thought – at least until tomorrow’s morning newspaper read).

The airbender sat beside Lin during the entire ordeal close enough to touch yet unwilling to close the gap.

His sister entered the waiting room, wearing a troubled expression.

The Beifongs sat up in attention at Kya’s entry.

“They don’t match.”

Kya’s statement echoed in the cold sterile room.

The waterbender continued to say she did not understand why it didn’t and why Opal’s body was rejecting the transfusion. If the child’s best matches do not match, where else can she source the transfusion? There was not enough blood replenishment tonics in the city and sourcing it from the Earth Kingdom would take them at least a day (and at this point, a day wasted might have been a day to make a difference).

There was a sharp intake of breath beside him after Kya’s pronouncement.

“Lin?” Tenzin finally reached out, touching Lin’s arm lightly. He still knew how to read the nuances of Lin’s feelings – her eyebrows drawn together, lips stretched, and eyes widened: she was afraid; he became worried.

The woman beside him jolted as though surprised that he was still there. But when Lin’s eyes alighted on him, Tenzin saw her fear intensify.

What was she afraid of?

She shook her head and then attempted to lift the airbender’s hand from her arm. Tenzin clasped her hand instead.

“Lin,” He repeated. “Are you okay?”

Kya paused at her explanations, looking concerned.

Su and Baatar both directed their attention to him; they did it so synchronously that he would have laughed if it were a light situation.

Su’s face mirrored her older sister’s as something akin to comprehension dawned on her.

But what? What are they afraid of?

He was about to break up the uncomfortable silence when a man in healer robes burst into the room.

“Master Kya! The other two samples were accepted, we can proceed!”

Kya barely excused herself as she joined the other healer back into the other room to continue into the transfusion proper.

Lin slipped lower into her seat, pulling her hand from Tenzin and hugging herself.

“That’s good news, right?” Tenzin tried to divert the peculiar tension that had formed in the room. “It’s a good indication that Opal would be receptive to this procedure, right?”

Lin nodded while avoiding his eye; the married couple at the opposite side instantly confirmed this.

Tenzin once again bore witness to how the Beifong sisters had a stare down.

Su turned away first, “Alright then, we’ll leave you for a while.”

“Thank you.” Lin, in an uncharacteristic move, stood up to hug her sister and brother-in-law.

“No matter what happens, Lin – I’ll always be at your side.” Su murmured from her perch at Lin’s shoulder.

Her husband’s arm around her shoulder, Su exited the room along with Baatar Sr.

Tenzin sat in silence, waiting until Lin felt read to address him.

Lin Beifong sat back down, cradling her face in her hands. She took several deep breathes while Tenzin rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her.

Tenzin saw the moment that Lin made a decision when she sat straight and finally made eye contact with him.

“Tenzin,” She swallowed. “I-I well, you see, that’s -,” After a few false starts, Lin shook her head. “Don’t you see it?” She bit her lip in consternation. “Didn’t you wonder what samples the healer was talking about?”

“Well, ours, obviously.” He waved a hand carelessly. “Good thing you let me do this otherwise, we would have been stuck trying to figure out how to help Opal. I’m sure her parents would eventually figure something out though…” Tenzin’s voice trailed off as realization set.

Her parents.

Opal’s parents.

Opal’s parents whose blood did not match with hers and was rejected for the transfusion.

And yet…

“Lin,” He breathed out. “Can you explain to me ­why our samples were accepted?”

Tenzin had an inkling. He now understood why the metalbenders were afraid. He was afraid to hear what his former partner had to say as well.

But he needed to know.

Snippets from the past years that had confused him started to make sense with his hypothesis.

But again, he needed to know straight from Lin Beifong.

“Tenzin, let me tell you all about your role in the parentage of Opal Beifong.”

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Security

My lovely friend and fellow lover of Dad jokes, @redfoxwritesstuff, recently reached 500 followers! Which is awesome but they deserve way more! But, for the writing challenge they set up, I chose the dialogue prompt: "I'm too sober for this." "You don't even drink." "Maybe I should start." Thank you to @lots-of-loki​ for reading this for me and cheering me on! Warnings: Smut. Dom!Loki (just a bit). Semi-public sex? Cursing.

Flashing lights blinded you from the comfortable haven of your tiny poorly-lit office, prompting you to pull out your noise-canceling headphones to pinpoint the cause for your next migraine.

"-report to your designated safety locations. This is not a drill. Security breach. Please report to your designated safety locations.”

Oh. Shit. That hadn’t ever happened before. Sure, there had been drills, but the exact steps you were meant to take flew out your mind with each screech of the alarm in between Friday’s calm instructions. Slamming your laptop shut on your cluttered desk, you fled the room, joining the stream of harried Stark staff taking to the halls.

Following the anxious crowd was all you could do. Hopefully someone at the front knew where you were supposed to be going. Your top teeth worried your bottom lip as your gaze darted from clenched hands to wild hair to dropped jaws to wide eyes.

And then you were pulled into total darkness. A hand clasped around your upper arm yanked you out of the crowd efficiently, not even disrupting the panicked stampede, and the vibrations of hundreds of feet reverberated against the cool wooden door digging into your shoulder blades.

Security breach. This was that guy. Fuck. No no no

“Hel-”

Cool hands went from restraining to reverent, tracing up the clenched muscles of your stomach, over your heaving breasts, to map the soft flesh of your flexed neck and silence your shocked cry.

Loki.

You’d know the cedarwood and spice that scented his hair anywhere, especially teasing against your nose with the dip of his head. Nose nudging along your cheekbone, grazing against the side of your head while a wicked smirk sought the shell of your ear.

“Hush now, little dove.”

You swallowed the desire that crept up from deep within at his elegant voice of roughened silk, sending the molten heat to gather in between your clenching thighs instead. It took another shaky breath and the blink of your eyes into the inky blackness to gather your thoughts against the press of his body, long and lithe, into yours.

Leather-coated thigh between skin-tight jeans. Unyielding armor catching a too-thin blouse. Nipping teeth to flexing jawline.

Hands scrabbled against straps and plates and buckles in desperation. You just didn’t know whether it was to push him away or drag him closer. Always closer and yet never close enough.

Panting. Pleading. “There’s a breach. It isn’t safe.”

“Yes. Stark’s pathetic excuse for technology is so easily fooled.” A long, slow lick against your racing pulse point to send shivers down the bow of your spine.

Deft fingers dragged between aching breasts, splitting your rolling stomach to flick open the button of your jeans. Your head lolled back against the door. Drunk. Intoxicated by the grind of his hips against yours, the rumble of pleasure into you from the mess he found between your legs, his name spilled into a supple, oiled leather collar.

“I’m too sober for this.” A thought there and gone in an instant, spoken simply to give your mind more room to process the pleasure the pad of his thumb could elicit against your throbbing pearl.

A throaty chuckle and a searching finger into your clenching heat. “You don’t even drink.”

“Maybe I should start.”

Did you say that? You weren’t sure. Loki was everything in front of you, around you, and the sudden silence at the door only amplified the sound of your blood pounding in your ears to the beat of his pumping fingers.

Hot breath fanned across your face, and you lifted your chin just enough to meet him in a demanding kiss. You’d expected it, his hunger, after the extended mission with Thor. It brought out the wilder side of him, desperate and hungry to swallow your pleasure and take it for his own. The curl of his tongue at the seam of your lips drew you into his world, chocolate and cinnamon and Loki that settled deep in the tight cavern of your fluttering need.

“They’re returning to work now. You have to be quiet for me.”

Was that even possible against the rolling waves of pleasure gaining in intensity as they ravaged your body? You certainly couldn’t stop your soft whimpers - didn’t want to try. Eyes screwed shut against the tumble of colors popping across your skin at the sudden crash of your release. Thank goodness for broad shoulders to catch your forehead and strong hands to hook under your thighs, lifting you up easily to pin you between a god and a hard place.

Your favorite spot to be, to be honest.

And his was settled within your pulsing walls, stretching and filling and searing and sating with your legs wrapped around the dip of his hips. Head dropped to your shoulder and open-mouthed kisses claiming your collarbones. Pleasure and pain tangled together to pour out of you in plaintive cries as he left you wanting, only to give you all of him just a moment later.

Calloused fingertips laced with metal from flashing daggers rasped against you from his silencing hand curled over your kiss-swollen lips.

His commands to silence, sugar sweet and whisper soft, rolled off of you like the sweat beading between the burst buttons of your blouse. It was everything in you to hold on, to him, to your sanity, to consciousness as he drew another wave of burning euphoria from you with the pump of his pelvis.

Jutted jaw glanced against your earlobe to bite your name in paralyzing pleasure.

Tingling sorcery straightened skewed clothes, erased the remnants of your rendevous, but nothing would remove the red raised mark on your jawline. Just how he liked it. Soft kisses peppered along your face, eyelids, nose, forehead, temples, lips. Praising you and soothing you with gentle declarations of love. The faint outline of his tumble of hair was visible if you looked hard enough, and it dipped with the curl of his arms around you to draw you close despite your trembling legs.

A quiet hum. “I missed you.”

Small hands smoothed over his spine. Safe, complete, flushed in his embrace. “I missed you too.”

~~~

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme @hellethil @myraiswack @birdgirl90 @cateyes315

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica​ @bluefrenchfries604​ @catsladen @snoopy3000​ @villainousshakespeare​ @kitkatd7​ @nonbinarylowkey​ @lots-of-loki​

[skinsharpenedteeth]

it’s some angst and smut time y’all! You can read it here or on AO3. AO3 includes tags such as drunk sex, mildly dubious consent and smut! I’m too lazy to re-list them all here. Just know everyone’s of legal age to be fucking each other up. 

So without further ado, here’s 8+k of Malex during the interim years between high school and S1. 

                              The sun had been brutal that day. Every time he’d touched a surface besides his own skin, he’d felt like he was being blistered from the heat. It left his fingers feeling raw and all he wanted was some relief from the onslaught of fire and light. It didn’t help that an awareness kept nagging at him, like a lead balloon settling to ground in his stomach, making him cranky and on edge on top of dealing with the sweltering desert sun. The feeling was familiar enough for him to recognize that he’d had it before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly and that made him irritable as much as the sweat stinging his eyes did. Usually, he’d be able to hide away somewhere during the hottest part of the afternoon to drink a cold one and take some time to meditate on his feelings, but that day Sanders had been around and ready to fire him if he didn’t finish a certain car before end of business. Consequently, Michael felt wrung out and thin skinned by the time he’d stumbled into the Wild Pony to drink himself into a giddy stupor. Maybe he’d find some trouble tonight if he was lucky. Maybe the buzzing in his brain would shut up if he poured enough tequila onto it. Maybe he’d even ask for ice in his whiskey to cool him off.

              Michael felt his feet scrape the packed dirt of the Wild Pony parking lot as he drug himself still grease stained and damp from sweat into the dark, cool bar before the sun had even set. The car he’d worked on wasn’t a hard job, but it was a heavy one that took far too much effort and time and his body felt beat up at the end of it. Once he’d slammed the finished invoice on Sanders’ desk, he’d grabbed his hat off the rack and his truck keys, hightailing it straight to the bar with barely a look backwards.

The bar was almost empty in the early afternoon except for a handful of other afternoon regulars. Drunks that didn’t have day jobs or only worked enough to get money to pay for their place on the bar stool. Michael didn’t ever want to be like them, but he also recognized that a corner stool was open and looked inviting to the mean gremlin in the back of his mind. He shook his head and turned to survey all the open spots in the building, enjoying the blast of A/C that hit him as soon as the door had opened.  It felt like walking into a meat locker it was so crisp and cool. That would change as the bodies piled in for beer and pool and the ever-constant search for companionship, but right now it felt like the North Pole on a winter morning. He waved towards Mimi DeLuca at the bar and sidled over to a booth along the wall where the air-conditioned vent would hit him straight in the face. As he sat down he sighed long and hard, letting contentment wash over him as the anticipation of being pleasantly blitzed later settled in his mind.

              “Long day, cowboy?” Mimi asked, setting down a water on the coaster in front of him and eyeing him up and down. She wasn’t flirting, he knew, but just scrutinizing what kind of drunk he was going to be today. They’d done this dance a lot since he’d become legal and actively self-destructive.

              “The longest. Give me five shots of your cheapest tequila,” he ordered, grinning at her disapproving look. She nodded and walked back towards the bar without a word though. She’d long since stopped trying to mother him over how he decided to destroy his body. He wasn’t worth her time and both of them knew it.

              Michael slunk down on the bench seat and closed his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his face while he waited for Mimi to get back. The pleather of the seat creaked under body and he extended his legs out under the table and propped them on the empty seat across from him. He could almost fall asleep like that, his body ready to forget the tequila and just dream for a couple hours. If he thought that were a real possibility, he’d leave with his money and go back to the Airstream to do just that, but sleep never came easy to Michael. He could be so tired he’d be weeping with the desire to just not be for a little while and his brain would hum along with one mistake or memory after another until he sought an alternative route to Slumberland. He jerked when Mimi came back and set down his shots.  He hadn’t been asleep, but he’d found that meditative half-consciousness that fueled him through most of his life.

              “That’s twenty-five,” she let him know, waiting for him to dig out his wallet from his back pocket. He handed her thirty and picked up with first shot and downed it without much ado. When he sat back, fingers still holding the glass lightly and breath coming out hard from the burn of the cheap stuff, she started fishing in her apron for change. He waved at her without saying a word and she nodded back in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t say it was in thanks because Mimi Deluca never thanked him for anything. She might thank him for not darkening her doorstep again, but then he’d have to find a new place to drink where the staff knew to leave him alone when he was in a mood like the one he was in today.

              “Alex Manes is in town,” she mentioned casually, taking out a rag and making a show of wiping down the seat across from his before pushing his boots off and taking a seat. 

Michael felt his stomach lurch and he gave her a narrow look, picking up the next shot and downing it in response. She shrugged and looked out at the four other patrons scattered around the room. “Maria mentioned it. Just thought you’d want to catch up with an old high school friend. He’s only on here on leave for a couple days. Then he’s getting sent back to the Middle East for another tour.”

              “We weren’t exactly friends in high school, I’m not sure he’d even want to see me,” he replied, knowing he sounded sulky and petulant. Mimi gave him a sharp look, seeing through his shit just like always.

              “Well, you were something. He always looked at you like you were a problem he couldn’t quite figure out and you always looked at him like he was the only answer to any question worth asking.  Maybe you should look him up while he’s in town,” she commented, stacking the two empty shot glasses and leaving him to think about her suggestion. He watched after her, starting to feel the fuzzy edges of warmth from the tequila take hold of his consciousness.

              How did he tell her that he had seen Alex Manes every time he’d come back home on leave? Or that he’d actually visited him once or twice when he was stationed somewhere within a day’s drive? Seven years since that day in the shed and every time Alex came home, he burst through Michael’s heart like a cannonball leaving just as much shredded evidence that he’d been through as a real one would. And Alex would just keep moving forward, not a dent or scratch to show he’d torn through Michael once again. It made Michael feel like just part of the rounds. Alex would see Maria, endure his father, pretend to be straight with his bros and then find Michael, where ever he may be, and crawl under his skin to hide for a few hours while systematically breaking down all of Michael’s emotional defenses and raising another sexual peak for someone else to try and top. Then he’d leave. Michael would mourn like a faithful pet and have to slowly fill in the hollow spaces that Alex had made for himself while he was there.

              He took another shot. Maybe if he was hammered Alex would turn around and go back to his father’s house? Maybe if he drove out to the desert and slept in the back of his truck for the next week he could avoid this round of heartbreak? But then maybe he’d miss his chance to see Alex smile the way he’d only smile for Michael. He’d miss the feel of his skin brushing against Michael’s as he turned over in that sweet sleep they’d find between rounds of pressing themselves into one another. He’d miss giving Alex the chance to say he’d stay and that he loved him and that it was more than some protracted high school fling that neither of them could bear to end.

              But it felt inevitable, this thing between them. Hearing Mimi’s announcement that he was in town clued Michael into what he’d been feeling all day. Inertia. It didn’t matter if he got shit faced, the universe would still tumble his sotted ass into Alex because he was always in a state of heading towards him anyway. The same end always awaited him. All Alex had to do was exist and Michael would crawl over a lava field to press his forehead against the skin of his ankles and when Alex stepped away, Michael would move towards him once more trying to recapture their bond. It wasn’t healthy, this obsession he felt towards Alex, but no one had ever made him feel so needed or so desperate for love. No one could calm the frenetic energy in his bones while winding him up to bursting.  No one else tasted like starlight and infinite possibility the way Alex did. No one knew the seams of all his pieces so blindly and left him quite so torn apart.

              His stomach rolled and he thought maybe he should’ve ordered something solid with his liquid dinner. Michael drank down half the glass of water and looked out across the bar to distract himself with the way the tequila was starting to make him feel floaty. More people were filtering in. The after-work crowd was always loud and brash and high on that feeling of temporary freedom from responsibility. Normally they were his favorite people to hustle for free drinks or Texas rounders in the bathroom, but he no longer felt like seeing or dealing with anyone tonight.  He eyed the last two shots in contemplation.

              Shrugging to himself, he picked them up in quick succession and downed them. He’d paid for them after all. Now he just had to race them home before they made him sleepy or weepy or suicidal.  He slipped out of the booth and waited for Mimi to be busy before heading to his truck. He didn’t think she’d stop him, but he’d never done 5 shots in less than two hours and then tried to drive home. He just couldn’t stand to be there anymore in the steadily more jubilant atmosphere, and he didn’t want anyone to save him tonight. He could go home and pass out and forget about Alex Manes. He could stop chasing a dream.

              When Michael stumbled into the airstream half an hour later, he had no clue how he hadn’t just died. He remembered driving. He remembered feeling like driving was a terrible idea and that he absolutely should not be doing it in the condition he was in. He remembered waiting to see another car on the road or a deer or anything that would spook him into swerving and flipping his truck, but he hadn’t. He’d made it back to the airstream. When he’d opened the car door, he’d fallen out and found himself looking at the everything sideways until he turned his head and looked at the stars swirling drunkenly in the sky. The earth was hard and still hot under him from the sweltering day. The gravel and dust clung to the side where he’d landed, digging into his skin. For as drunk as he was, shouldn’t he be number than this to discomfort?

It had taken him way too long to navigate making himself stand up so he could stagger the five steps to the trailer door. His hand gripped the door handle hard and he’d lurched and crawled up the two stairs into the airstream’s interior. Once inside, he immediately began to undress. He no longer wanted to wear the dirty, sweat stained work shirt. He didn’t want to wear the rough, torn jeans or his ragged underwear. He didn’t want to feel the caked layer of dust, grease, and salt that covered him head to toe. And he didn’t want to think that when Alex found him later he’d be too gross to touch.

That thought had him pause, naked and swaying in the door to the bathroom. Maybe Alex should find him gross. Maybe Alex deserved to see what it did to him to know he was in town, acting normal by day only to find Michael after all the lights in the town had gone out and show his real skin. Maybe Alex should know that Michael was as filthy on the outside as he was being treated. If Michael was going to be kept like a dirty secret, maybe he should just stay dirty. Who was Alex Manes to treat Michael like he was something shameful? He should tell Alex that. Should tell him not to come and see him anymore. Not to expect any further special treatment from Michael.

Making a decision, he turned and tried to grab his jeans from the floor so he could get his phone. He fell, landing hard with his shoulder digging into the cabinet door handles. Hissing, he ignored the pain and scrambled to pull the hard rectangle from his crusty jeans. He opened the screen and debated texting or calling before realizing he didn’t think he could coordinate his fingers well enough to text while this hammered. The tequila was starting to give his body ultimatums on whether it too would stay or go. The pain where he’d fallen against the door handle was stinging and he looked over to see blood running down his arm. Groaning, he reached up and hauled himself off the floor and onto his bed. He surveyed the contents of the trailer for something that he could see to dull the ache. A couple empty bottles of acetone lay on their sides at his worktable. He’d forgotten to buy more. A half empty bottle of Jose Cuervo sat across from him on the stove. He reached over and opened the bottle one handed, unscrewing the top with his thumb. He sloppily poured some over the wound ‘to clean it’ and then took a hearty swallow ‘for courage’. Swaying where he sat, he looked down at the phone again and found Alex in his contacts, hitting Call before he could talk himself out of it.

“Hello?” Alex answered the phone. Michael stayed silent, listening to the music and laughter emanating from the background noise. It didn’t sound like the Pony. Maybe that new gay bar in town? Maybe Alex was trying to replace him, take up another so he didn’t have to put up with Michael’s melodrama. Did Michael want that? Alex sounded good though a little confused as to why Michael was actually calling him instead of just waiting around to his turn at Alex’s attention, but…. Still, so good.

“Michael?” Alex whispered his name into the phone. Michael could almost see him turning and walking away from whoever he was with so they wouldn’t hear him say Michael’s name, wouldn’t know who had called him. Michael was breaking the rules. Alex was supposed to come to him when he wanted and he wasn’t supposed to go looking for him. He was the bad thing that had to be done with no body else’s knowledge so they wouldn’t judge Alex.

“Guerin, are you there?” Alex asked again, voice a little louder but still hushed compared to the environment around him. Michael hoped that was concern he was hearing but decided it must be something more akin to frustration. What was he doing? Why had he called Alex?

“Don’t come over tonight,” Michael finally bit out. Then he waited, silent. He knew he should hang up and make his point. That’s all he’d called to say, right?

“Okay,” Alex replied slowly, drawing out the work and definitely sounding confused. “I’m in town for another couple days. Maybe tomo—”

“NO, ALEX. Don’t come over ANY NIGHT! I don’t want you to!” Michael yelled, hearing the slur in his voice and knowing he’d said too much. When he’d yelled, he’d apparently swung the arm not holding the phone and he heard the resulting crash of beer bottles hitting the trailer floor.

“Are you okay? You sound drunk. Are you at the Pony? Do I need to come get you?” Alex asked, voice sharpening with concern. Michael scoffed.

“Fuck you. I don’t need you to take care of me. And I don’t want you to come here. I don’t want to see you, Alex. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want to love you. I’m fucking over this shit,” Michael babbled, sinking backwards into the worn thin mattress of his bed.  He’d misjudged how close he’d been to the window though and his cut arm scraped against the rough edges of the window pane. “Fuck, Ow!”

“Michael!” Alex’s voice trilled in his ear, sounding alarmed and concerned. Michael heard a muffled male voice ask Alex a question and the muffled scrape of Alex’s hand covering the receiver as he answered ‘It’s fine. I’ll be there in a minute.’

“Ugh, I’m getting blood all over my fucking blanket,” Michael said distractedly, sitting back up and looking around for a towel.

“Why are you bleeding? ARE YOU OKAY?” Alex asked, voice beginning to sound frantic or as frantic as he ever sounded. Disaster didn’t really touch Alex the way it would touch normal people. Not after his childhood. Not after what he’d seen with the military.

“I’m FINE. I just cut myself. It just blood, I’ll be fine. Fuck, why is there so much blood?” Michael asked aloud as he grabbed his dirty shirt from the floor to press against the wound.  There were a few scattered drops on his sheets and he’d have to get the hydrogen peroxide to see if he could get them out.

“I’m coming over there, Michael,” Alex snapped. Michael felt himself jerk to attention. He’d forgotten he was on the phone. Alex’s statement made his irrational anger bubble up again.

“Noooo. No don’t come over here. I don’t want to see you. Haven’t you been fucking listening? I…” he breathed heavily, almost seeing the liquor vapors in the air from where he was huffing out his breaths. He tried to summon up the last parts of him that were sober to keep telling Alex to stay away, but instead he started blurting out whatever came to mind. “I haven’t even showered. I’m disgusting. Don’t come over. I’m fine, I’m fine. My bloods just thin from the tequila. You don’t need to care about me. I’m not worth it. I’m disgusting. I’ll be fine. I’ll either wake up tomorrow morning or I’ll choke on my vomit and die. It’s… whatever, really. Stay with your friends. Have a good night, Alex.”

If Alex replied, Michael didn’t hear him because his eyes drifted shut and he was not aware of anything for a while.

  When Michael woke up, he was still aching from his shoulder and he was still very drunk…and he was alone. He looked around the airstream, hoping to see Alex somewhere doing something…something to take care of him. When he didn’t see him and after lying very still in the dark, didn’t hear him, Michael felt his heart shred and shatter in his chest. He was supposed to come save him. He was supposed to come take care of him. He was supposed to show up and love Michael and then tomorrow! Tomorrow he’d feel this way. But not tonight. Tonight, he was supposed to be loved.

The tears fell first, but the sobs that clawed out of his throat came soon after. He hated himself for calling Alex and telling him not to come over. He hated himself for wanting to see Alex more than he ever wanted to save himself from pain. He hated the weak, high-pitched sounds that pushed past his teeth when he tried to stop himself from giving into this despair and he hated the low, open mouthed howls that echoed into the stuffing of his pillow as he rolled into a ball to try and hold himself together even while he knew he was broken beyond repair.

Hands smoothed over his shoulders and started pulling at him to turn over, away from the muffled safety of the pillow. He fought those hands, trying to shake them off even as he tried to curl further into himself. This ghost needed to let him bleed everything out.

“Michael!” a familiar voice called, breaking through his haze a little. “Michael, stop! STOP!”

He stilled, following the command and waiting for something worse to follow. Something worse always followed. It had every time he’d given in to how much pain he was feeling.

“Michael, look at me.”

He slowly opened his tear swollen eyes and looked up at the shadowy figure above him. He didn’t need the dim lights of the trailer to know whose hands were gripping his shoulders even if he hoped he was wrong.

“I told you not to come,” Michael croaked out, embarrassed when his voice broke on the last word. He could hear the weakness and water in his voice. The creaking dam of emotion he still hadn’t cried out threatening to burst back through at any moment.

“Michael,” Alex said his name again, soft and chiding. One of his hands, the one on the uninjured shoulder, rubbed soothingly up and down his arm.

“I don’t want you here,” Michael said again, trying to ignore the way his body was already loosening its cramped curl in response to Alex’s skin on his.

“I know. I know,” Alex agreed, before crawling over Michael and laying himself down with his back to the window. His body faced Michaels on the bed and his hand never stopped its slow back and forth movement over his tricep. “But I couldn’t hear you like that and not come check on you. Where did all of that come from, babe?”

The pet name felt like a puncture in the last piece of his heart that had been intact. He felt his breath shuddering past his lips as he tried to contain himself enough to answer. He must’ve taken too long, because he felt Alex’s body slide closer and arms wrap around him, pressing him into the warm, herbaceous scent of Alex’s shirt. He rested his cheek against the top of Michael’s head and Michael felt their knees brush against each other.  Michael’s fingers uncurled from where they’d been clenched tight against his own chest and he reached forward, wrapping the fabric of Alex’s shirt into his hands as he felt more sobs break free from his body. He tried to keep them quiet, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. At least no one in this trailer.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m sorry I’m here if you really don’t want me to be. But you’re obviously hurting right now. I can’t just let that happen and not see if I can help. We’re friends, right? Friends don’t let each other hurt like this without trying to comfort them,” Alex murmured softly into his hair. Those warm, gentle hands were now petting his hair and rubbing his back. He could feel his muscles loosening and the fight going out of him. He just wanted to melt into the man in front of him. He wanted to be the one who carved out a place under his skin and lived there for the few days they’d have together. He wanted to be the one who left the hollow spaces for once.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back,” Michael murmured into the space between Alex’s shoulder and neck. “Friends keep in fucking touch. You never tell when you’re coming back and when you’re here, you never stay. You find an excuse and disappear. I always wake up used up and alone.”

“Guerin….” Alex started, sighing heavily.

“Don’t call me by my last name. I get it, I’m just… part of coming back here. A chore you check off your list. You don’t have to keep coming here if you don’t want me, Alex,” Michael finished, uncramping his fingers from Alex’s shirt and starting to pull himself away. He was getting a headache from crying and the liquor and the long day. He was ready to turn over and go to sleep. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

“Michael,” Alex started again, his tone softer than before even as his hands held Michael firmly in place, not letting him draw away. “I don’t know what to say here. You’re not a chore. I will never and have never thought of you as an obligation. I always look forward to seeing you, but we don’t run in the same circles. We never have. And this never goes anywhere because I’m always going to leave. I can’t stay here with you, Michael, I’m sorry. Coming back to Roswell always leaves me feeling like I’ve time traveled and gotten stuck in a time vaccuum.”

Michael felt the burn begin again behind his eyes and his throat start to tighten.

“But when I’m here, I’m yours. You’re one of the only good things I get out of coming home,” Alex finished, finally letting go of Michael and drawing back to lay his head down beside Michael’s on the mattress. Michael felt a tear drip off his cheek as he stared at the fathomless brown eyes staring into his. He hoped Alex hadn’t seen the tear because of the shadow on his face, the dark hiding how much he always hurt when Alex was with him. Sometimes it was knives, sometimes it was ecstasy, but always it was pain.

“I’m yours, too. When you’re here, I’m yours,” Michael finally responded in a small voice, sliding his hands over Alex’s chest and up to cup his jaw gently. He’d decided he had all he could handle of the knives for tonight. Now he wanted the ecstasy. He wanted to hold Alex on his tongue and under his fingernails and inside of him. He needed the memories to get through another three years of his heart being caught in a fist of anxious worry over whether he’d get to see Alex alive again. How much of the Alex he loved would be left after more witnessed atrocities in name of his country?

Alex leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, his breath brushing Michael’s lips and chin. Michael didn’t want Alex to remember him like this.

“Let me up, I’m going to take a quick shower. I really am… pretty fucking filthy right now,” Michael admitted, laughing weakly. Alex smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to his mouth before sitting up to watch him. Michael sat up, noting that while not trashed, he was still a little floaty. He was sober enough to feel embarrassed about Alex having to come rescue him because he was naked, drunk, and emotional. He stood and managed the two steps to the bathroom, turning on the water in the cubicle shower. He walked in and let the warm water wash over him, the thudding of his heart in his ears as he leaned forward, setting his hands on either side of the shower head. He let his forehead rest against the back of the shower stall while he tried to wrap his mind around the night so far. Another fine mess he’d made. A breeze at his back made him look over his shoulder and he saw Alex stepping into the tiny space with him.  

“I’m not sure this shower is big enough for anything athletic,” Michael commented trying to ignore his bodies near Pavlovian response to seeing Alex naked. Alex hummed at him and wrapped his arms around Michael’s wet torso, pulling their bodies flush together under the water spray.

“I’m just helping you wash your back,” he teased, reaching past Michael and pulling the bar of soap down from the inset shelf. Michael closed his eyes and nodded, trying not to feel overwhelmed at how easy this was when it shifted from emotions to sex. How his body was always ready to forgive the sins and slights his mind had tallied up between them. How starved he was for this feast of flesh between them.

Michael groaned as he felt Alex’s hands start to slide over his wet skin, the bar of soap adding a welcome pressure against his abused muscles. His cock which had started to perk up at the view of Alex naked was starting to harden and strain towards his stomach with every brush of Alex’s body against his. It was impossible for Alex to move without some part of him touching Michael’s in the small space of the airstream’s shower. Michael couldn’t even turn around without them having to negotiate intensely so as not to end up with an elbow in someone’s eye or a knee bruising.

While Michael tried to find his focus, he felt Alex’s hands going over everywhere on him. Those well-defined hands were sliding up and down his back and over his shoulders and arms. His square, thin artist’s hands massaged Michael’s sides and then slid down to dig into the muscles of his lower back, and again lower onto his ass cheeks, dipped his thumbs into his crack and back out and around. He’d replaced the soap on the shelf and then his hands were sliding up Michael’s stomach and over his chest, pulling his back flush against Alex’s body. He felt Alex’s teeth settle onto his shoulder, even as his hips ground forward, his hard cock sliding between Michael’s cheeks making him moan loudly. He reached behind himself and grabbed at Alex’s hip, trying to pull him closer and let him grind harder against his backside. He felt Alex push his cock down, angling it low and letting it slip into the space between Michael’s legs. The spongey, hard tip tracing over his tight pucker and perineum, teasing behind his balls before drawing back. Immediately he closed his thighs as Alex started to pump his hips with earnest, water and soap helping slick the way for Alex’s cock.  With every catch of Alex’s cock on his hole, he felt his sanity slipping from him. He wanted to feel him stretching his insides open, pushing his way in and making a home for himself in Michael’s body.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good. I want to be in you, babe. I wish I could just slip in,” Alex gasped into the meat of his shoulder, a hand sliding between their bodies so Alex could press and rub his fingers over where Michael needed him most, “right here. I want to be right here with you. Do you want that, babe?”

Even as his other hand drifted down to land on Michael’s achingly hard cock, Michael was grinding back against Alex’s hand, letting the tip of one finger breach him. It wasn’t enough, but it still felt like being on a better plane of existence. Michael groaned, reveling in the slick soapy slide of Alex’s hand on him and the slow thrusting motions that had been taken back up behind him driving him insane.

“Do you want that, Michael? Can I get you out of this shower and lay you down and take you apart? Make you scream for me? Get you nice and dirty again?”

“Alex,” he sighed, body throbbing with his need for this man. His name felt like a prayer and a curse and he could remember all too well how good Alex was at making him come apart at the seams.

“What do you want, Michael?” Alex asked, stilling his movements and just hugging Michael’s body back against his. He didn’t sound angry, just inquiring, as if he cared what Michael really wanted from him. His breath was ragged against the back of Michael’s ear. He sounded as desperate as Michael felt. Awkwardly, Michael turned and maneuvered until here could partially face Alex. The water was starting to cool in the shower and it only heightened how unnaturally warm his skin was in the small space. Michael looked at the water dripping from Alex’s hair and down his glorious, golden body. He took in the intense stare those dark chocolate eyes had pinned on him and could suddenly see what Mimi had meant. Alex looked like he was trying to figure Michael out, like he was waiting for an epiphany to what all of this meant. Michael knew he must be looking at Alex like he was the answer, because he was. He was the answer to all the questions that Michael had.

He leant in and pressed his lips to Alex’s. He tried to give Alex some of the answer he was looking for in that kiss, using his lips and tongue to spell out the words ‘I love you’. Alex kissed him back, equaling his fervor and clutching at his back and neck to keep him close. When they broke for air, Michael reached back to the shower wall and shut off the water.

“Take care of me, Alex. Love me. Fucking wreck me. Do whatever you want,” he gritted out the last words feeling reckless as he was lunging forward to begin kissing again. Alex hummed his understanding against Michael’s mouth and they stumbled, dripping, out of the shower stall. Michael backed Alex up against the small sink and broke away from his lips to start kissing down his chest and stomach. His knees hit the floor hard and he ran his hands up Alex’s thighs while he stared up into his face. Alex looked down at him in hunger, hand cradling his jaw before Michael leant forward and took the head of his cock into his mouth. His eyes fluttered at the clean taste of his skin and the familiar firm length of him sliding over his tongue. He looked through his eyelashes up at Alex to see him gripping the counter and biting his lip as he watched Michael take him down over and over. This is what power felt like.

On a whim, Michael grabbed the back of Alex’s thighs and pulled him slightly forward as he dove his head in, letting Alex’s cock slip into his throat where he swallowed around it. Alex’s hand shot out, diving into the wet curls on Michael’s head, tugging as he groaned at the sensation. Michael pulled back and slowly worked his way back down the next time, letting Alex appreciate his gag control as his nose brushed the other’s pubes.

“Shit, Michael, if you keep that up I’m going to cum down your throat,” Alex gasped out, failing to stop his hips from a small fluid grind into Michael’s mouth as he looked down at him. Michael pulled back, wrapping his hand around Alex’s prick and continuing to jack him slowly while he answered.  

“Better get the first one out of the way, Alex. I want you to be able to fuck me for hours,” he replied.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex breathed his name almost reverently, tightening his hand in Michael’s curls momentarily. Michael took his hand away from Alex’s cock, letting it jut into the air between them. Then he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and looking up at Alex expectantly. Biting his lip, Alex used his unoccupied hand to grip his dick and feed it over Michael’s tongue and into his mouth. He wasn’t truly thrusting, just letting the hot flesh slide shallowly in and out of Michael’s open mouth. “You’re so good at that, Michael. You’re so fucking perfect for me. I love it when you’re cock hungry and needy like this.”

“Make me yours, Alex. I want you to claim me,” Michael replied after backing off for a moment. He stared at Alex, running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. He’d never get tired of touching Alex this way. The smooth, tan skin showing off the now familiar muscles the Air Force had trained into him. He took Alex back in his mouth, tongue gliding liquidly over the silky skin and lips pulling him closer to orgasm with every deep swallow. Michael reveled in this feeling of giving Alex what he wanted, what he thought he needed, and knowing if he stopped at just the right time, he could have him begging. But he didn’t want him to beg. He only wanted him to keep wanting to come back.

“Shit, Michael. Oh fuck, just like that, baby. I’m so close. Do you want me to come in your mouth?” Alex asked, breathless and desperate sounding. Michael could tell he was close, could feel the tightening of his body and the final swell starting in his cock before he blew his load. He nodded minutely, catching Alex’s eyes and winking up at him. Alex just whimpered and panted, hips started to stutter against Michael’s mouth, losing their rhythm as Alex’s body started to overload on sensation. Then Michael was swallowing, letting the warm, salty spurts from Alex’s body rest only a moment on his tongue before pulling it in.  He held Alex in his mouth until he finished and calmed down, then slowly backed off, licking the skin clean as he went. Alex twitched from the overstimulation, but Michael was fully aware of how much Alex could handle before it become too much.

“Come here,” Alex breathed as he pulled Michael up from his knees. His kiss was sloppy and slightly uncoordinated since his orgasm, but Michael let him take control of it anyway. He liked Alex like this, sated but still hungry for more.

“Go to the bed, grab lube and a condom, and get on your hands and knees for me,” Alex commanded against his lips. Michael felt a shudder go through his body as he met Alex’s eyes. He loved it when Alex told him what to do. Alex held his gaze for a moment before leaning in towards his ear and whispering, “Go on now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Michael turned and walked back into the main area of the Airstream. He reached into the drawer under his bed and pulled out the half-used bottle of lube and a condom. He threw them onto the bed by his pillow before crawling forward on his hands and knees to wait for Alex to come out of the bathroom. It wasn’t a long wait and it wasn’t a long walk before he felt Alex’s hands on his hips, thighs warm as they pressed against the back of his own. He pressed his hips back against Alex’s, back bowing and putting himself on display to entice Alex to hurry the fuck up already. A hand smoothed down his back, tracing his spine and then further down into the cleft between his cheeks, fingers once again resting against his hole.

“This where you want me, Michael?” Alex asked quietly, fingers rubbing small circles around the tight ring of muscle. Michael moaned and pressed his body back, needing more. “Use your words.”

“Yesss,” Michael hissed through his teeth, hands coming up to grip at his own damp curls. “Please Alex, I need you.”

“Okay, baby,” Alex said, bending hid body over Michael’s to grab the lube and condoms to have closer to him. He kissed along Michael’s back and ribs as he retreated, his teeth pinching small pieces of flesh between them and making Michael cry out softly with the exquisite pleasure-pain of it. He felt Alex’s body heat draw away from his and heard the scrape and shuffle of Alex moving behind him, but before he could glance past his shoulder to see what was happening, he felt Alex’s mouth on one of his ass cheeks, sucking and marking the flesh with his mouth. A wet finger prodded at his hole and he pushed back trying to let it sink in. Alex moved his finger away with Michael’s movement and he heard himself whining in frustration.

              “I’m sorry, I’m being a tease,” Alex chuckled against the skin of his hip. He gave Michael a quick peck there and then Michael felt the pressure of his finger again. This time it didn’t stop, just slowly, inexorably pushed into him. He bit his lip to stop himself screaming in frustration. Alex slid his finger in and out, finger barely brushing over that bundle of nerves that would have Michael howling and feral if worked right.

              “It’s not enough. More, Alex,” he begged. Alex’s mouth kissed the skin of his hip, then the dimple of his ass, and then closer still to where his finger and leisurely moving in and out of Michael’s body. Michael felt Alex’s lips then, a soft sucking caress on the skin stretched around his finger. Then the strange, erotic slide of his tongue. Michael’s body started to shake at the sensation, his cock giving a hard throb between his legs. Alex’s finger moved out of him and away, moved over to where it could splay over his ass cheek keeping Michael’s body pressed open wide for Alex’s mouth.

              Alex’s mouth was a dream. His hot, wet tongue gave wide, long swipes from Michael’s balls to his hole. He felt his lips sucking on the skin of his pucker, his teeth scraping softly and making him cry out against his forearm. He felt the prod and push of the muscle working its way past the tight ring of Michael’s entrance and spearing into him over and over. Alex’s unoccupied hand came up and wrapped itself loosely around Michael’s red, angry cock. He could feel Alex working his pre around the crown, making his hand slick against the skin as he began working it while he ate Michael’s ass. It was almost too much. He could vaguely hear himself moaning and gasping, his body undulating between the tongue in his hole and the hand steadily milking his cock. He felt a tingle in his core, body starting to tighten on him in anticipation of coming.

              “Alex, wait! I wanna come with your cock in me!” he cried out, even as he continued to thrust back against Alex’s face. The hand on his cock left him and he felt two fingers slip past Alex’s withdrawing tongue to start twisting and testing the muscles inside of him. Alex kept biting and sucking on the skin around his fingers, even as he hastily began to push a third on past Michael’s rim. It was a stretch and stung a little.

              “More lube,” Michael gasped, his body hunching away from the invasion slightly. Alex paused and withdrew his fingers most of the way out of Michael’s body. Michael could feel the cold spill of more lube around his hole and onto Alex’s hand. With the next push inward, the third finger slid in easier and while still a stretch, it didn’t hurt. Alex was twisting and flexing his fingers, trying to make sure he wouldn’t hurt Michael when he finally pushed his cock in, and his knuckles finally skated over Michael’s prostate enough to make him seize up and cough out a shout of pleasure. He knew Alex had gotten the picture when he rubbed his knuckles over the same place again, this time with more pressure.

              “Please, please, please, Alex,” Michael babbled, tears coming to his eyes as he fought down his body’s need to come. Alex was pressing on his spot with every thrust of his fingers now and Michael was fucking himself back on it even though it made him feel like he was about to shake apart.

              “You think you’re ready?” Alex asked, his voice registering rough and strained even through Michael’s sex drunk brain.

              “Yes, please Alex, I need you in me,” he cried.

              “Okay,” Alex sighed, sounding grateful somehow to Michael’s ears. Michael heard the crinkling of the condom packet and then the blunt pressure of Alex’s cock pressing at his hole. He moaned, rocking backwards against the pressure and feeling the head pushing past his outer ring of muscles slowly. Alex’s hands came to rest at his waist lightly, not pulling or directing Michael’s movement, but simply resting while Michael did the work. Michael relished the feeling of Alex entering him, loved that first stretch and burn around the other man’s body. When he felt the head pop past the inner ring, he gasped, rocking forward and backwards over again feeling just the tip of Alex pulling at the edges of him. He heard a curse from behind him and glanced over his shoulder at Alex.

              It was the first time he’d seen his face since they’d started this and he was glad it hadn’t happened until that moment. Alex looked wrecked. His eyes were glued down to where Michael was rocking onto him, lips red and swollen,  face flushed, and abdomen muscles jumping as he tried to control his movements so as to let Michael play with him as much as he wanted. He was rock hard, but he wasn’t desperate the way Michael was.

His eyes flicked up and he saw Michael staring at him. He smiled and bit his lip, pushing his hips forward the next time Michael flexed back and Michael lost his breath as another few inches were pushed into him. His eyes fluttered closed and he turned back to lay his head on his forearms, overtaken with how good it felt to have Alex in him. Alex withdrew, leaving Michael feeling empty, until he pushed in again, giving him more. He continued until Michael could feel his hips flush against him and then he stilled.

“Shit,” he heard Alex curse softly behind him. He flexed his muscles around the mass inside of him and felt the responding, possibly unconscious, grind of Alex against him.

“How do you still feel like this? You always feel like you were made for this, Michael. You always feel like you were made for me,” Alex asked in wonder, pulling back and starting a slow, deep rhythm that made Michael feel like he was going to explode. A hand smoothed up his back and hooked onto his shoulder, pulling Michael’s body with Alex’s and making it feel as he were able to push deeper with every thrust. Then the hand was pulling Michael up, pulling him back so he was on his knees, back bowed and gravity helping to push him down harder onto Alex. He felt Alex’s mouth on his shoulder and neck, his arms wrapping around his chest, roaming over his skin, tweaking his nipples and dipping past his navel to stroke at his drooling cock.

“Alex,” Michael sighed, one hand holding Alex’s head behind him, the other resting on Alex’s hip. “I need more.”

“What do you need?” Alex asked, body still fluidly fucking into Michael’s in that slow, deep draw and push. This position was much better for Michael’s prostate, but it just wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“Harder,” Michael gasped on a particularly pointed thrust, “Faster.”

Alex’s hands went to Michael’s hips to steady him and then he was picking up the pace. Michael felt the moans tumble out of him as Alex’s hips started slapping his, cock pistoning in and out of him, running sharply over his prostate and bringing him back to the crescendo of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, like that. Don’t stop, Alex, fuck, don’t stop,” Michael cried, finally putting a hand on himself and jacking his aching cock in counterpoint to Alex’s thrusts. He could hear Alex’s huffing breath and occasional grunts behind him, could feel his fingers starting to dig into the meat of his muscles, could feel his own body tightening around Alex’s cock, trying to keep him inside of him. His orgasm hit him like a freight train. His vision whited out, his body seizing up around Alex and his cock swelling and releasing over his fingers and palm. He felt Alex fuck him through it, thrusts jagged and almost too much against his prostate, but then he too was groaning like he was dying and slowing inside of Michael. Michael felt pulled back onto Alex’s lap and enjoyed the wet pants of breath against his sweat sheened shoulder blade.

Alex was always languorous and tactile after he came. He would hold Michael against him until he was too soft to stay inside and then he would let his fingers play over Michael’s puffed hole. He would kiss all the sweat from his body and murmur sweet nothings into his skin. Then he could get hard again and they’d go for another round until Michael was too sore or the sun came up, whichever was first. After the last time, sleepy and wrapped around Michael like an octopus, Alex would fall asleep with his head on Michael’s chest, breath softly stirring the golden curls of hair, and Michael would try to stay awake as long as he could because if he fell asleep, like with most good dreams, Alex would be gone once he woke up. Alex would leave while Michael slept, texting him later that he was sorry he had to go before Michael woke, and then he’d leave the country to fight some rich man’s war for him. Michael would once again cover up the place Alex had made for himself in his body and heart. He’d once again drown himself in the arms of others or the bottom of bottles, but that place stayed hidden and safe and waiting for Alex to come back home.

[hongsside]

BITTERSWEET : : WYG X MNG

pairing :: everyone ✘ everyone ateez ( mingi and wooyoung focus ) 

hidden pairs :: mingi ✘ wooyoung, hongjoong ✘ seonghwa, san ✘ yunho, jonho ✘ yeosang

wc :: 3.3k

genre :: unfinished slow burn • “world against us”  • romance

tags ::  college party, college! au, onenight stand, conflictions, classmates

tw :: drugs, smoking, alcohol.

authors note ::  I wrote this based of a song ‘right here’ by chase atlantic (hence the multiple lyric quotes and dialogue in here), i hope you guys enjoy this and take it as a treat for i will leaving on another hiatus because of school starting up and the stress build up is not gonna do well with the friendship problems, schoolwork etc that i already have. i hope you guys understand that this means ‘Finally Us’ will not be updated in a while, i’m very unhappy with this but it must be done, thank you for reading and for the support i got with the first chapter of FU, i couldn’t be more thankful! - misty <3

⇱ ORIGINALLY CALLED NUMB ⇲

-------

(o´ω`o)ﾉ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･ ❝ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ~ᵎ ❞

-------

mingi and wooyoung were at the peak of their college lives: partying every night, mid-term flings, drugs, alcohol, and the careless habits that would be developed. of course, they never knew each other; sure, they shared a few classes together and might’ve met eyes a couple of times, but that meant nothing to them…or did it?

the two young men weren't considered friends, nor were they considered foes; they were nobodies to each other, strangers in a way.

simply, classmates.

there were countless ways to put it. all wooyoung knew was that the group wasn't very fond of mingi, yet he could never pinpoint why.

both of them were split into two different friend groups, to say the least, which consisted of 4 men ranging from different social statuses; although ultimately irrelevant to this account.

--✯★✯

finals had just come to a close, a wave of leisure washed over the scholars as they turned to their end-of-year celebration; no, it wasn’t the school’s dance. god knows how everyone boycotted those no matter the circumstances. it was the party at one of the deserted mansions near the road alongside the school-- the authorities never bothered filing it as trespassing due to the property’s legal owner who turned out to be one of the high-class seniors in the student council.

god, they were all filthy rich-- from the janitor to the highest class students, everyone always managed to pull a fortune seemingly out of their ass. there were exceptions, of course, those were students that no one ever knew how they slithered through the cracks of the school, but it wasn’t that they fretted about them regardless.

while packs of students hopped over the rusted edges of the wired fence separating the school from the small patch of pavement leading to the open courtyard of the grand house. Others were settled inside already, cutting corners and exploring the rooms as the purple hue of the party lights bounced off the glistening façade of the expensive furniture.

it felt relatively uncomfortably expensive.

as the tiny packets of white powder were passed around and people headed off to the rooms upstairs, the roar of the rn&b music grew more resonant than before, so much so, that surely the after-school study groups back at the school would be able to hear it no doubt.

“i don’t think hongjoong-hyung would appreciate you taking that, wooyoung.”, said an ivory-haired figure, as he snatched a small packet filled with the white powder as mentioned before, from the not-so-unknown man.

“just once? please yeo-hyung?”, the other man shook his head disapprovingly as he passed the packet to a stranger passing by, rolling his body to the beat of the song playing in the distance, the echo bouncing discreetly from the empty dull walls.

“go play with your other hyungs, won’t you woo-ya? keep yourself occupied.”,  yeosang instructed, careless of his surroundings as he danced along with a different crowd of students. 

wooyoung bit his lip, nodding in reply. he observed the crowd, tippy-toeing as he sought for a bright blue-haired man, eyes glistening when he ultimately found him.

“hyung!- hongjoong!”, he asserted, pushing and shoving through the endless amount of drunk scholars that filled the already lethally crowded room.

wooyoung’s only goal that night was to get laid--- or to at least to find a fling to last him the end of the year. his hyungs wouldn’t allow him to take in any of the substances being shared, although they single-handedly knew he had already consumed them; they just wanted to prevent another reckless addict among the bunch, it was already enough with san. not to mention how protective they were of him, wooyoung was aware of why and he understood that he was like their little brother but sometimes it just felt like too much for him.

hongjoong turned his head, smiling at the younger man; he was certainly wasted out of his mind but regardless, he kept his cheeky grin plastered on his face. the younger man panned around, analyzing the face of the tall chestnut-haired man beside hongjoong.

“who the fuck are you?”

“wooyo-”, hiccupped the short man, getting interrupted by the voice of the stranger.

“park seonghwa, pleasure.”, he said, nonchalantly running a hand through his hair.

wooyoung let out a soft gasp, his lips parted in a not-so-subtle ‘o’. he was taken aback-- his best friend was seeing the student council president. he mentally slapped himself, how could he not recognize the student council president, yet the bigger question was, how did he never realize the two were dating

“oh my go- i’m so sorry hyung-” he stuttered through his sentence, scarcely perceptible as he spoke.

the couple smiled as seonghwa shook his head and murmured things that wooyoung couldn’t seem to recall as he reminisced on that night. as the lights flashed, before they knew it they were being escorted to a room by seonghwa--- that was after climbing up a long flight of lavish stairs that surely they could never afford to walk on; well, maybe except seonghwa.

while they passed some girls making out on the second-floor banister, not making too big a deal about it, they were led into a room in which the obscure smell of alcohol and sex lingered faintly. the odd-colored hair duo studied the room, eyeing the crowd of men scattered around the room. their expressions were painted with uncertainty, as they noticed their friends were already situated in the room along with additional unfamiliar men.

first, they saw yeosang, the man was immersed with the music, straddled onto the lap of a much buffer man by the name of jongho. his raven-colored hair fell a little above his shoulders and his hands were gently settled on yeo’s waist, securing him from a possible fall due to his drunk state. next, they saw san, who was already getting busy with a remarkably tall blonde boy-- assuming by the cup in his hand his name was ‘yunho’ written in black sharpie that was professedly rubbing off already.

the group of men continued to carefully examine the reckless mess in the room, watching as a redhead slightly taller than yunho poured another cup of whiskey for himself. the tall man exchanged it for san's empty cup and advanced to the pair of perplexed men-- seonghwa already cutting corners to another room, motioning for hongjoong to follow him.

the unnamed redhead lit up a joint, smiling as the orange hues illuminated his face giving the younger male a chance to study his complexion. his lips were plump and adorned by a small silver lip ring, his nose was prominent, and his eyes were much too powerful for him to grasp-- he was unbelievably stunning, and no one could deny it. the taller man passed the joint to wooyoung, chuckling as he noticed that the room once filled with pairs of their friends was now desolate.

they shared a quick glance as they puffed out clouds of white smoke, the stench of the haze slowly filling the room.

“name?”

“song mingi.”, wooyoung slightly tensed at the name, remembering the words his friends had exchanged about the man in front of him.

“don't have to ask you, mister jang.”, the taller man breathed, not giving much of a fuck as he continued to smoke the last bit of the joint before eyeing the other man up and down with haste.

“how do yo-.”

“irrelevant.”, he said smugly as they sat in the loudest silence of their lives; the music reverberating throughout the house, and the sound of muffled moans overlapping, fusing mutually to form a sonata essentially created especially for the party.

the colors they saw were vivid and not only that but almost excruciatingly painful to look at but ironically it was, at the same time, so blissful to them--- except this time, the vibrant rays of flashing colors did not belong to the party lights but instead their own euphoric state. the pair was in the clouds, their blood-pleasure rising by the minute, unaware of the various consequences their careless decisions would have in store for them. although it's safe to say they couldn't care less. their minds were spinning-- and their hearts were pacing. The music continued to reverberate softly throughout the walls of the house as they grew oblivious of their morning headaches that could kill, although they didn't know that yet.

as the clock chimed, one a.m., the two men would still be admiring the fading colors allowing the incoherent drunk words spilling out of their swollen lips to be overlooked. at that moment, wooyoung noted how he'd never found another man so attractive till he saw mingi's chiseled body splayed across the couch in an effortlessly charming way, wooyoung watched intently as he let out soft giggles and mumbles ad the younger man studied him in awe.

"another one?", he sang lighting up another joint.

"what if i pass or i-"

"one more, you'll be fine"

wooyoung could've sworn he went to heaven and back with mingi as he admired the blue glow of the stars he saw slowly reappearing in his eyesight-- he remained dazed by the redhead's display, meeting eyes in the process. meanwhile, the music which once resounded through the widish halls had moved far away until seemingly, little by little, the distance was much too far away to hear it-- the silence was broken by the sound of his sonorous voice.

“so..we gonna fuck or nah?”

--✯★✯

the moon soon rose above all, painting the sky with a fine shimmer of silver as the clouds masked the excellence of the dark-blue midnight sky. it was an enchanting sight, truly it was, but there was something about the way the distant sounds of heavy panting mixed in with the scenery of the moment.

--✯★✯

the next morning came with a hurry, awakening those in its path, as the smell of sex hindered in the now silent atmosphere to an overbearing extent. recalling the events of the previous night, wooyoung woke up, eyes fluttering open in an instant. his eyes adjusted to the change in brightness and carefully slithered from under the sleeping man's silhouette. the raven-haired man frowned slightly at the lack of warmth; he hoped it would've lasted longer but i suppose this wasn't the case. wooyoung scanned the room casually, unable to remember how he ended up in this unknown bed. everything seemed like a blur to him as he sat in such an empty square room in utter confusion; while he pondered on how he ended up in this room, he shifted uncomfortably from under the covers as he looked down and noticed he was nothing but naked. shocked by his discovery, wooyoung panned around in search of his clothes humming in approval as he found a shirt just below the desk, uncaring that it very much did not belong to him.

the clock chimed, six a.m., and wooyoung was almost out the door until the sound of mingi's trembling voice stopped him in his tracks.

“wooyungie? where are you going?”, he almost croaked, voice hoarse from last night's events which perhaps he wasn't aware of yet. wooyoung only stared in response, watching as the beams of the sun's rays shined through the cracks of the curtains.

“just going to get water.”, he lied, stomach curling in regret.

“ahh, alright i thought you were leaving me for a second.”, the sleepy man chuckled as he sat up, revealing his upper torso unintentionally. wooyoung smiled in return, walking to the kitchen to “quench his thirst”-- that was until he heard mingi utter drowsy nonsense again causing him to freeze.

"i don't wanna leave this bed..stay right here instead, woo.", the younger man hesitated, unable to process what he was saying and even more reluctant to not do as asked.

"i could've sworn you were right there.", the red-head continued, as he pointed to the vacant side of the bed that wooyoung had slept on. wooyoung chuckled, nearly forgetting about his initial plan of leaving mingi alone.

"you know we uh fu- umm that! right?", wooyoung said delaying his words in embarrassment. mingi only laughed.

"its cause you were high!", he interjected his own sentence, his cheeks slowly brightening to 50 different shades of red.

"i wasn't that high, i swear.", mingi chimed in defending his behalf with a joking tone. 

minutes passed and an unexpected form of tension arose. mingi's had darkened, his expression was no longer the lively expression it once was but rather it was substituted with stern eyes. the pair were seated side by side from under the covers of the bed, perhaps unknowing of what the other truly was thinking about.

"why did you really leave, wooyoung?", mingi hummed through nearly pursed lips. the raven-haired man's eyes widened, beads of sweat slowly running down his temple as he stuttered on meaningless excuses.

"mingi- my friends..they don't like you..-"

"i don't give fuck about your friends! i'm right here and it doesn't change that you slept with me!" 

"..and not only that, i'm the only one that hasn't walked out! i mean- look at my friends! i'm here!", he continued, growing impatient by the minute. mingi rested his head on his hands, frustration seeping out of his words. it's happening again.

wooyoung sat there, perplexed and guilty of everything he'd done. whereas mingi sat there in sheer hurt, remembering the great times they shared the night before.

"ill get going...i'm sorry."

--✯★✯

it's been three nights since the party and ever since then, wooyoung couldn't sleep. it felt like a year's worth of guilt had washed over him and the urge to call mingi grew stronger by the hour. his bangs fell before his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, watching the lifelessness of the white cover spread across the dorm.

his hyungs had noticed wooyoung's shift in attitude and grew curious of why their youngest "brother" had changed so rapidly.

"woo we gotta talk.", purred the quiet voice of the blue-haired man from behind the couch.

"about?"

"you."

the room became silent almost instantly, a silence so strong there was a fear within the men in breaking it. the remainder of the group filled the room practically on cue, and so the achingly awkward talk commenced-- but not in the way any of the men expected.

"why do you guys hate mingi?", inquired the youngest to their surprise.

"we-"

"answer the question."

"woo-ya, we're just afraid he might be a bad influence on you.."

"bad influence my ass, have you met san?", their eyes all darted to the man with eyes red with addiction, and he chuckled nervously knowing exactly what they were hinting to.

"not the point, we just want to know what's up with you all of the sudden? im talking about you not sleeping for three days after the party, wooyoung. we're worried about you."

"don't be, i'm not a child."

"we know-"

"if you knew so well then quit treating me like one and hiding things from me, thank you very much."

wooyoung stepped out of the room walking to the parking lot of their dorms as he reached for his phone and called the number he was once so reluctant to dial.

the number you have tried to reach did not respond, call again af-

the man sighed, hopping onto the rood of his car and sitting there ready to lose all hope that was seemingly never there, to begin with. he glanced up and watched at the glow of the stars lit up the sky alongside the same moon that shone over them three days ago.

he clicked the call button again, it rang and rang until almost impatience got the best of him.

the number you have-

one more time? he asked himself, what if he's busy? maybe his phone is dead? 

"baby, just pick up your phone.", he practically cooed out loud in hopes to hear mingi's voice on the other side of the phone. 

the number you have-

there wasn't anything he could hate more than hearing the sound of that voice. no, not his. never his.

he looked up to see the stars twinkle once more, getting ready to go back inside and endure the questioning that awaited him from his friends. he wasn't ready for what he would see when he gazed down though.

there he was, song mingi. he wasn't going to lie, he looked just as rough as he looked. the frame of his glasses was pushed up to the bridge of his nose and he carried two small blankets with him, passing one to wooyoung and he ran a hand run his disheveled hair. the younger man stared at him, eyes fixed onto his in astonishment, why would he drive here when he could easily just answer his phone?

mingi hopped onto the top of the car, taking a seat next to the raven-haired silhouette without a single word. they observed the stars together, watching as they flickered from afar; occasionally humming in admiration.

"i'm sorry, mingi."

"there's no need to apologize.", he murmured eyes still set on the sky gleaming with beauty above him.

"but-"

"no 'buts', just look at me. i'm the one who's sorry..but..do want an apology gift? you can't say no."

wooyoung let out a noise of puzzlement before nodding hesitantly. "close your eyes, silly.", mingi snickered slyly, and that's the last thing wooyoung saw before being given the gift that would be forever with him, in his mind, in his body, and that was more than enough for him.

"you ready?"

"this isn't a pregnancy announcement right?"

"no, you dummy.", he giggled softly, wooyoung couldn't see it but the way he imagined made it seem as if there was a work of art before him.

"yes, i'm rea-"

time stopped when mingi's lips met his, interrupting him slightly. his heart pounded in his chest as his body gradually got weaker. the younger man could only concentrate on how soft he felt against his lips, how addictively he kissed him in a way that wasn't filled with lust but rather love and affection. wooyoung couldn't get enough of the way the cold metal of his lip ring brushed along his lips, giving him a distinct sensation he'd never forget.

 he couldn't tell if he dreamed this moment to life, but there was raw passion in the way his hands cupped his cheeks fondly as if he didn't want to let go. mingi kept his half-opened gaze on wooyoung, sneaking adoring glimpses at him now that he wasn't looking, just to make sure this moment wouldn't be forgotten. 

he wanted to remember the way wooyoung's eyes fluttered open and sparkled in a way so similar to the stars they had been looking at, he wanted to see his face when he kissed him in his dreams.

and this time he wouldn't be high for that.

but there was a sense of bitter sweetness to it, they both knew their friends would never approve. They knew the stares they would get from their friends, they knew exactly what they would say to them when the interlaced fingers but, did that really matter to them?

perhaps it would matter to them then, but surely not know. it all felt like a false reality to them? maybe even a dream, a dream they'd dread waking up from. but it wasn't. they were there in the heat of the moment, together under the stars sharing an unforgettable kiss that spoke like a poem and could say things that not even 1,000 words could say.

surely, it was like that poem wooyoung once read...

"even if the world is against us, the love we share is enough to put the world beneath us."

they pulled away, catching their breaths as they rested their foreheads on each other. he couldn't help smile like an idiot hoping that the darkness of the night would mask his flustered condition. it's not like mingi wasn't doing something much different, except he was basking in the moment pulling away to cup wooyoung's cheeks one last time, loving the way his face was glazed with the divine mantle of light belonging to the moon.

"i love you, idiot."

"i love you more, silly."

end of story

all work by hongsside

[booklover223]

CAFFEINE

Pairing/s: Pre-romantic/Romantic Intrulogical, background romantic Prinxiety, background pre-romantic Moceit (just mentions though)

Word Count: 5,166

Warning/s: misunderstandings, some cussing. (Let me know if you want me to edit this I’ve never written for tumblr before!) kinda ooc! Remus but he’s emotional and it’s mostly a Logan centric fic.

A/N: So this is the first time I’m posting on tumblr, if you want to read it on AO3 here is the link ——> https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729227 but be warned! The story is formatted for a computer moreso than a phone so there are very long paragraphs I’m sorry!! I’m fixing the formatting for the post though (ITS SUPER LONG IM SORRY 🥺🥺🥺👉🏼👈🏼) this is a songfic btw! Song is called Caffeine by Fly By Midnight and I love it it reminded me of intrulogical immediately for some reason and I was forced to write this basically.

Logan was at his desk, laptop open but he wasn’t focused on it. He had come to a startling and scary realization the day before when he had been sitting in the kitchen watching as Roman and Remus bickered over ideas for Thomas to use. He had watched as Remus poured unholy amounts of what looked like raspberry flavored syrup (at least he thinks it was syrup it had the consistency of syrup and the color of raspberries..) onto his bacon and eggs. He had happened to glance over at Remus and Remus had looked at him, smiled a quick flash before pulling him into the debate of ideas. When he had finished Remus’s smile was blinding and he had felt something stir in his chest.

He had ignored it at the time but later that night it had happened again, again caused by Remus. His heart fluttered when Remus smiled at him a quick bright thing like the flash of a camera before turning back to whomever he was talking to. He quickly excused himself and all but ran to his room. Logan prided himself on not having feelings, at least that’s what he told everyone else. Logan did have feelings, he just didn’t like them. But he had never had these feelings before. He had felt them of course, whenever Thomas had a crush or was in a relationship so he knew what they were but he personally had never had them before. Before Janus and Remus were accepted he hadn’t thought that he ever would have these feelings. Virgil and Roman had gotten together fairly quickly and Patton was more of a brother to him, and he had never seen him in a romantic sense. He just thought he didn’t have enough emotion to have romantic feelings, but what he felt just now had ruined all of that and now he had a problem.

Logan didn’t want romantic feelings. Hell, he didn’t want feelings at all, and he tried his best to repress them. But these unwanted things that affected Logan more than he liked to admit were persistent. He didn’t know how to deal with them. He thought back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment these feelings started and could only think of the amount of time hes been spending with the embodiment of intrusive thoughts. He had never had a problem with Remus, and sometimes sought him out for conversations, but once he was accepted he had started talking to him more, spending more and more time with him and his feelings had apparently grown from there. Maybe if he didn’t spend as much time with Remus as he did the feelings would go away? It was a stretch but it was all he could think of. So with a plan in mind he shut down his computer and went to bed.

Off in the imagination, Remus smiled to himself as he created stars and galaxies. He knew he had a crush on the resident nerd and he was really hoping that Logan liked him back, but he would wait for now and just enjoy his company as friends. He had always liked the nerd, when he had been a “Dark” side Logan was the only “Light” side who had tolerated him. Roman had come around, wanting to mend their broken bond but even he could get fed up with Remus’s constant chatter and rapid thought process. Logan never did, he always kept pace with Remus, always had. And he never shied away when topics took a darker turn. He rolled with the waves and explained, expanded upon, or dismembered the thoughts Remus couldn’t control and couldn’t filter and was never disgusted by them.

He listened to Remus in a way none of the others ever had. Even Janus had to stop him sometimes, the thoughts Remus spewed disturbing the deceitful side. But now that he was accepted, he had been spending more and more time with Logan and he was loving every minute of it! He pulled him into debates or just talked to him for hours and never got bored listening to him ramble about whatever was on his mind. He was cute the way he lit up whenever Remus asked him to explain or elaborate on whatever topic he was talking about. Remus flung the last of the stars into the sky and sunk into his room ready for a good rest. He had a million things he wanted to ask Logan about space, one of his special interests he found out last week and he also wanted to show him what he made tonight. Sleep took him quickly, a smile on his face.

The next morning Remus eagerly waited for Logan to come to breakfast, he wanted to show him a new recipe he had found and wanted to get Logan’s input on the best way to get Thomathy to make it for the Halloween party he was planning. But as the hour dragged by and Logan still hadn’t come down for breakfast, which was weird and slightly alarming as he almost never changed his schedule, Remus got worried. He decided to check on Logan and see if he was sick or something and quickly made his way upstairs to Logan’s room. He knocked on the door, if a bit too fast and waited as patiently as he could until he heard Logan call a quiet “Come in.”

He swung the door open, unintentionally slamming it against the wall and cringing slightly before bounding into the room. He looked around, he had been in Logan’s room before, he had been in everyone’s room before when he wasn’t accepted. He was always trying to spook everyone and catch them off guard, but Logan usually ignored him. With his acceptance his intrusive thoughts had calmed some, and he wasn’t as well, intrusive, as he used to be. He was still loud, he was still as hyperactive as ever and he still lacked a filter most days. But he was getting better, and he was trying to be better for Thomas. He stood in the middle of Logan’s room, closing the door with a snap of his fingers as he watched his crush type away on his laptop. He frowned when Logan didn’t turn to greet him but he shrugged and walked over to the Logical side’s desk.

“Watcha workin’ on Logie Bear?” He asked leaning over Logan and plopping his head onto his shoulder. He felt Logan freeze up, though he didn’t stop typing, which was weird. He hadn’t done that since they were teens, so he immediately pulled his head away and took a step back. Maybe he’s just stressed? He waiting as he watched Logan turn around and fix his glasses, a tick he had noticed he did whenever he was thinking. “Hello Remus.” He said it with none of the warmth that Remus had become accustomed to in the recent months and he was taken aback by it, but before he could even begin processing that he was interrupted.

“To answer your question, I am working on fixing Thomas’s schedule for next week. Since yourself and Roman have been pulling him into the Imagination more often he has been neglecting his real-world duties like laundry, washing the dishes, and a multitude of other things. Hopefully, you can convince Roman to keep a clear schedule next week. I am asking you to as well, though I know it will be hard “When Creativity strikes” as the saying goes but please try and withhold in for at least this next week. I have the weekend open for him if you and your brother do have any urges.” Remus stood there, his mouth slightly agape as Logan finally looked him in the eyes.

Remus blinked a few times before nodding voice subdued as he responded “Sure Lo, I’ll- I’ll try. And I’ll tell Roman too give him a heads up!” He smiled though it felt forced and quickly left the room. When Logan had looked at him, it was as if they hadn’t been spending these last few months together, He was closed up again, the strict no-nonsense mask he wore around everyone but him was... back up. What had happened?

Remus felt a tightness in his chest, but he took a few deep breaths and decided that Logan was just having a bad day. He and Roman have been hogging a majority of Thomas’s time this past week. Because they were allowed to work together again, they had been on fire giving Thomas amazing ideas and flying through the imagination fighting Gloria (the Dragonwitch) and her hordes of armies and other adventures. He shrugged off his bad thoughts and quickly went to find RoRo to tell him about Logan’s plan for the next week.

Logan sighed as Remus left the room. He rubbed his eyes and slumped in his seat as he tried to ignore the warmth of where Remus’s head had laid on his shoulder.

How had he not noticed that he liked Remus in a romantic way? How had he let himself get so comfortable that he had let his feelings creep in and take hold of his heart? He sighed and turned back to his desk glancing at the picture he had there. It was about a week after Janus and Remus had been accepted that Thomas insisted they took this photo, all of the sides plus Thomas in the middle. Virgil was sitting on Roman’s lap; Patton was leaning into two pairs of Janus’s arms and Remus had his arm thrown around Logan’s shoulders head thrown back as the others looked at him with varying degrees of disgust and embarrassment. Logan chuckled as he remembered the filthy joke Remus had told to get that reaction, and then he sighed as his eyes lingered on Remus’s form. He felt the ghost warmth of that arm thrown over his shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

This was for the best. He was Logic, he didn’t have feelings, or at least he shouldn’t. And besides even if he admitted to liking him, Remus would never reciprocate his feelings. So he rubbed his eyes, fixed his tied and went back to work. He had noticed that Remus had seemed off this morning, but he brushed it off and tried to focus on his work.

It had been three weeks, and everyone knew something was up with Logan and Remus. Logan had been acting a little too normal almost cold in his dealings with the others and Remus had been holed up in his room most of the time, and when he wasn’t in his room he kept to the imagination and only talked to Roman. Every time he was within viewing distance of Logan, he shot him wounded looks before leaving the room. The four sides decided to get to the bottom of this and set a meeting time aside for later that night after subtly observing the other two.

After dinner that night Janus, Patton, Roman, and Virgil met up in Janus’s room to discuss their observations of the day. Roman sighed before starting. “Remus has been acting odd these last few weeks as everyone knows. I tried to talk to him about why he seemed so down but all he did was yell ‘Fuck off bro’ before hitting me over the head with his morning star and running off into the woods.” He rubbed his head, presumably where Remus had hit him but there was no longer any wounds or lesions on his head that showed the damage. Virgil pulled him into a sideways hug and kissed his cheek. Janus glanced at Patton. Patton sighed and started fiddling with his hoodie sleeves.

“Logan looked was pretty out of it. He had about 10 empty coffee cups on his desk and he was all disheveled and when I asked how he was doing he said ‘fine.’ But I don’t think he's doing fine guys.” He said as he looked around the room. Janus nodded as Patton’s gaze landed on him. “I heard his lie about being fine, but I couldn’t pinpoint why exactly he wasn’t fine.” Virgil sighed as he leaned into Roman’s side. “I could feel both Logan and Remus’s anxiety spike when you asked them but it was more of a general anxiety nothing I could pinpoint.” They all looked at each other helplessly until Roman stood up. “I’m going to see my brother and figure this out I don’t care if I have to tie him to a chair!” He stormed off before the others could even think to stop him and they all hoped he could get through to Remus.

Remus was laying sprawled out like a starfish on his bed, humming a song he had heard as Thomas was scrolling through Instagram. His intrusive thoughts had been getting bad again without Logan there to counteract and break them down for him and he was starting to lose his head again. He could feel himself losing his already loose grip on reality every day that passed and he didn’t want anybody to think he was going back to how he was before he was accepted so he tried to stay in his room as much as possible and smash out the intrusive thoughts he had in the Imagination whenever he could. His head was swirling right now as Roman had interrupted him before he had a chance to create and then promptly destroy the thoughts so he was now laying in his room everything smashed to bits and chest hurting as he thought of why Logan would’ve cut him off. He was trying to be good!

He was trying his damn hardest but Logan had been helping him so much so the sudden cut had him dizzy for more than one reason. The only thing he could think that happened was that Logan had found out about his crush and decided to stop interacting with him. The painful thought as well as the others clouding his mind brought him to tears and he didn’t even notice Roman barge into the room until he was being hugged by him. He let himself cry as he was pulled into a warm embrace and his thoughts finally started to calm down. “Oh Rem, tell me what’s wrong?” He heard his brother whisper and he struggled his way through stuttering sobs as he told Roman that he had had a crush on Logan and he must have found out about it because Logan had started pushing him away three weeks ago and his thoughts were getting worse without him because his logic dismantled them and and-

Remus was cut off as Roman squeezed him again and told him he would handle it. Remus nodded and laid back down on his bed as his room playing the damn song he had stuck in his head and only making him cry harder.

“Vacant head in this empty bed yeah I think I’m losing it, I’m pretty sure I’m losing it. It’s messed up nice that you’re my vice and I keep on using it, it’s probably why I’m losing it. Thinking in circles when we’re not together and fighting it won’t make it better…”

Remus cried into his pillow as the song continued and eventually played on a loop, and Roman got ready for a fight.

Roman barged into Logan’s room slamming the door open and sword pointed at the Logical side who was more than shocked to say the least. Not that he showed it. “Roman, what can I help you with?” he asked as he turned to face the creative side. He had been holed up in his room for the better part of the last three weeks only going out for necessity but those time he had seen Remus had his heart racing with unwanted and useless feelings. “Remus is distraught and is declining in health mentally because of whatever you did Microsoft Turd, so I suggest you apologize and at least have the courtesy to keep a professional relationship with him!” He said vehemently and Logan was, well more than confused. “Roman, please elaborate I have no idea what you are talking about and I haven’t even seen Remus for more than a few seconds these past few weeks so I couldn’t have done anything to him.”

Roman paused and seemed to think about something before abruptly sheathing his sword and pulling Patton into the room. Logan looked on as Roman whispered something into Patton’s ear, who then looked over at Logan for a brief second eyes wide before he closed them and seemed to concentrate. His eyes flew open and he nodded to roman who sighed and rubbed his face roughly. “Thank you Padre, I’ll handle it from here.” Was all Logan heard before he was once again alone with the Creative side. Roman took a deep breath before looking at Logan, disheveled and downright messy, eyes bloodshot and hair a mess. He walked closer to Logan who warily accepted this quiet scrutiny. “You’re in love with Remus.”

It was a statement not a question, but Logan tried to deny it anyway. “While I love Remus in a platonic sense, I am not in fact in love with him as you say. I cannot fall in love, I am Logic.” The words burned his throat as he stared down Roman who plopped onto his bed similarly to the way Remus used to do. “Specs, if you forgot, which I am sure you did with the amount of caffeine running through your body at the moment, I am not just creativity. I could sense something was off between you and Rem, but I couldn’t place it until I asked Patton a question. A simple question. Do you know what that question is?”

Roman studied Logan as he thought through what he could have possibly asked Patton, nothing he could think of and yet he had started to panic slightly. He shook his head and looked to Roman who sighed. “You really are out of it aren’t you Lo? I asked Patton if he could sense love coming from you, and when he confirmed that he could it clicked. You’re in love with Remus. You have romantic feelings for him.” Logan stared at Roman with panic in his eyes. He was found out. “Please do not tell Remus.” He finally whispered hands running through his already messy hair. He couldn’t look Roman in the eyes.

“Logan look at me please.” He heard a soft voice request and he looked up at Roman who had moved closer. He put a hand on Logan’s shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Why are you trying to deny your feelings? Just because you’re logic doesn’t mean you cant have feelings or fall in love with anyone. You aren’t just Logic, you’re also Logan. The nerd who geeks out over space and loves crofters and so many other things. You can have these feelings.”

Logan was trying his best not to tear up but there were unshed tears in his eyes as he listened to what Roman was saying. “But how can I be logic if I have feelings? Feelings are illogical and messy and- and-“ Roman squeezed his shoulder again and Logan looked up into his eyes. “Feelings are a part of being Human teach. You may embody logic, but you are a part of a human and that means that you also can have these feelings. If you didn’t have these feelings that would make you a robot and you are not a robot, no matter how hard you try to be one.”

Logan closed his eyes fighting the tears that wanted to escape. “Even if I do have feelings for Remus, he doesn’t return them. How am I supposed to face him?” he asked, his voice cracking. Roman sighed. “Logan, I know for a fact that Remus likes you back. I didn’t need Patton to tell me, he told me himself. It’s why I came here in the first place. I was gonna fight you for hurting my brother but by the way you looked I had a feeling you were hurting as much as he was. You need to go talk to him Lo. He’s been doing so good with you but when you cut him off everything started spiraling for him. He thinks you hate him for having feelings for you.”

Logan looked at Roman in disbelief, that couldn’t be right but then, thinking back on the few seconds he had seen Remus these past weeks he had seemed to be sad. Oh no. “I messed up didn’t I?” Roman chuckled and stepped away from his friend, “You should go talk to him Lo. I think it’ll work out in the end.” Logan nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes before straightening his tie. “Thank you Roman.” He said before sinking out. Roman chuckled and left the room to go tell the others that everything was gonna be fine.

Logan rose outside of Remus’s door, about to knock when he heard crying. He quickly sunk into the Creative side’s room only to be met by a song being played loudly, permeating the room and intruding his thoughts.

“Bloodshot eyes, no I can’t focus since I let you in. Ever since I let you in. Every high, like a crashing ocean its been sinking in, ever since I let you in” The lyrics pulled at a chord in his chest as he listened to more of the words. “Thinking in circles when we’re not together, If I let you go I’ll be better. I don’t know what I’m chasing, I’m smoking, I’m pacing hours go by like forever, now I’m like-“ He walked further into the room looking for Remus and finally spotted him on top of a broken bed face in the blankets and shoulders shaking. The song continued. “I want you, it’s way too late, I’m restless, I’m wide awake. Every time I lay down I can’t sleep, you’re keeping me up like caffeine.”

Logan walked closer to Remus and gently touched his shoulder. Remus startled and sat up makeup smudged and eyes red and puffy as he looked into Logan’s eyes. “Remus, please stop the music. We need to talk.” Remus scrunched up his face but the music only got louder. “Ah,” Logan muttered before waving his hand and stopping the music. “I’m sorry the song was s-stuck in my head and I c-couldn’t get it out a-and the harder I tried the louder it got.” He said, stuttering through hiccups his voice raw. Logan tentatively sat down next to Remus on the bed and watched as Remus scoot over but didn’t look at him.

“Anyways, what did you need Logie Bear?” he asked trying to sound like his normal self but Logan could hear the pain under his weak façade. Logan reached out for Remus’s hand, slow enough that he could pull away if he wanted to, Logan was happy he didn’t. “I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting these past few weeks. I… well I had come to some startling conclusions and decided to try and ignore them but all I did was end up hurting the both of us.” Remus finally looked towards Logan and the hope and pain in his eyes made Logan ache he hadn’t meant to cause Remus any pain, hadn’t known he had the power to but this look flayed him and he knew that he had.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “I had come to the conclusion that I had romantic feelings toward you, but in my hasty decision that I shouldn’t have these feelings I hadn’t taken into consideration the thought that you might feel them as well. I was trying to avoid you so I could stop my feelings from growing, not because I knew you had feelings I did not reciprocate. And I am so sorry for hurting you Remus.”

Remus had fresh tears streaming down his face and he launched himself at Logan. “I thought all those thoughts were about how you couldn’t like me not that you thought you couldn’t like anyone in general!” he exclaimed as he hung onto Logan’s neck head pressed into his neck. Logan was confused for a moment before he remembered that Remus embodied intrusive thoughts as well as creativity. He knew everyone’s intrusive thoughts and fears, and he was able to take them away from the others so the thoughts didn’t affect them, but that meant he was stuck with them looping in his mind until either Logan helped him dismantle them or he killed them enough times. Glancing around the room he realized he hadn’t been able to kill the thoughts yet.

 Logan hugged Remus a little tighter rubbing soothing circles on his back as he let Remus cry, whispering soothing words into his ear. Eventually Remus calmed down and sat back to look at Logan. He sniffed before asking, “So, you have feelings for me Lolo?” He smiled a watery smile but the question was genuine. “Yes.” Logan replied nodding his head in affirmation. Remus squealed and did a whole body wiggle “I like you too Logan.” He said excitement growing with every word. They would have to talk more but both were exhausted so Logan took Remus’s hand and brought him to his room, changing their clothes with a snap and ushered Remus into bed with him. Remus sighed contently as he cuddled with the logical side. “Thank you.” He whispered and Logan smiled and pulled Remus closer.

“You have nothing to be thankful for Remus. Thank you, for putting up with me being irrational.” Remus chuckled softly and tilted his head far enough back to softly kiss Logan’s chin. “Not very logical of you Lo,” he giggled quietly and Logan couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him as well. “No, it wasn’t. Now sleep cephy, we can talk more in the morning.” He felt Remus freeze for a second before he wiggled happily “I like that name, Cephy. It fits.” Remus manifested his tentacles and took off Logan’s glasses placing them on the bedside table and turning off the lamp before retracting them. Logan was shocked, but exhaustion was taking over. “Remind me to ask you about those when we wake up.” He whispered and felt a nod as he drifted off.

Six months later

 

Logan sat at his desk his laptop open in front of him, but he was just staring at its black screen. He was tired but he had to finish this schedule for Thomas or else he wouldn’t be prepared for the next week of editing and filming. Logan rubbed his bloodshot eyes glasses discarded on the desktop next to the sleeping computer. He startled when he felt arms hug him from behind before he remembered that Remus was in his room with him. “Come to bed Lolo you can do this in the morning.” He whispered, the start of a whine in his voice. Logan leaned his head against Remus’s arm for a few moments before sitting up and sighing.

“Remus, I can’t I have to finish this tonight or else Thomas is going to be set back for days when he needs to be editing and re-filming. I’ll come to bed as soon as I am finished, I promise.” He looked to his boyfriend who had sat on the edge of the bed waiting for whatever it was Logan was going to say, He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded flopping backwards like a starfish. Logan looked at him for a few seconds, a small smile on his face before he yawned. He needed coffee. He stood up and after giving Remus’s leg a squeeze he left his room and went downstairs.

Dating Remus was like nothing he had ever imagined, and yet it was everything he wanted, He smiled again as he thought of his boyfriend. He was a handful sometimes, but he loved him with everything he was. Sometimes, before he and Remus got together he had felt like he was in a vast ocean, untouchable and unfeeling but then he let Remus into his life and suddenly he felt as though he had surfaced the ocean, gasping for breath he hadn’t known he needed. He hadn’t always liked the feeling.

When he had first realized he had feelings for the Duke he had thrown himself into his work ignoring his feelings and avoiding the attractive creative side which was hard considering he had finally been accepted and now resided alongside the rest of them the “dark commons” merged with the light and now they lived with nice shades of grey instead of blinding white or encompassing black. He spent way too long and many, many caffeine fueled nights working on anything and everything that had crossed his desk. But no matter what he did or didn’t do he couldn’t get Remus out of his head. Thoughts circled back to their scant interactions and his heart rate increased every time he seen the creative side but he refused to act on his feelings. He was Logic and logic didn’t have things like feelings (except when he did).

It all came to a head when Roman had barged into his room one day demanding he apologize for whatever he had done to his brother. Logan hadn’t realized that Remus had returned his hidden feelings, or that it was affecting his creativity as well as Thomas. It had taken a while for Roman to convince Logan that Remus cared about him too, Logan had been repressing his feelings for a while not to mention his feelings for Remus, but eventually he was able to confront Remus and admit his feelings. He had never been so scared or so happy than the day they got together. He walked into his room, mug of coffee held tightly and glanced lovingly at his boyfriend. He looked at the time 3:35, before looking back at the bed.

Remus looked so prone and exposed when he slept. He sighed and set his coffee onto the desk next to his laptop before shutting it down. He snapped his fingers and was in his pajamas which consisted of a worn Nasa shirt and some dark grey sweats. He took off his glasses and lay next to Remus who immediately turned around and snugged up to him, head under his chin and hands gripping his shirt. He chuckled softly. “You win my little octopus. I hope you’re happy.” Remus sighed into his chest and smiled before leaning up to kiss Logan's chin. “I am.” He responded softly snuggling closer. Logan kissed the top of his head and squeezed Remus. “I’m glad I let you in.” he whispered softly as he finally drifted off to sleep.