#despite not being insane about them; i definitely do enjoy them quite a lot <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[singsweetmelodies]

What do you think of George/Alex? 🤔

makes sense, compels me. i love them, your honour!! they're the british counterparts to piarles, pretty much - and piarles is my otp of all otps, so. anything that's similar to that, i will probably enjoy!! there's such a lot to love about galex, too - childhood friends, long history, the whole williams/red bull/mercedes dynamic... it's a very compelling ship, and i like it a lot in theory! in practice, i haven't written it yet - but that's just because i am rather piarles-obsessed and don't have a lot of brain space left for other things. one day, though!!

(f1 ships categorisation meme)

[prince-of-red-lions]

I got bored in church today so I started coming up with band headcanons for the chain so here (sorry it’s really long I’m a huge band nerd)

concert band:

time - flute. he’s just the whimsical type to play flute, also he can go incredibly high and his fingers probably blur cuz of how fast he’s playing

twilight - baritone/euphonium. twi just seems like that mellow yet determined type, though he will get very aggressive if you call it a “mini-tuba”

warriors - trumpet. I don’t think I need to elaborate.

wind - trombone. wind is 100% a trombone kid- making jokes 24/7 and whether their funny or not is a 50/50. he blasts super loud to annoy everyone but he’s low key amazing at playing

four - four stumped me a bit. I’m not too 100% sure because his personality is rather complicated (hahahsrhjrjfjajajahz), but I think he’d play alto sax. he can play the others too; tenor, soprano and bari (ITS 5X HIS SIZE AHAHA).

legend - trumpet. he’d be first chair and extremely smug about it, though he’s so insanely good at trumpet. he makes a 3 octave instrument 5 octaves. he snarks a whole ton at the rest of his section and constantly has to put people in place (people aka warriors).

hyrule - flute. also very whimsical along with time. :) he seems like that happy type and just likes the flute cuz it makes a pretty sound. yes hyrule we love you for that <3

wild - percussion. so obviously percussion. he’s extremely good at everything in the back. he loves to double up on mallets (holding two mallets in each hand) and go ham. he can make it sound very pretty tho :) he can do fancy things with drumsticks and the metronome fears HIM. he also summons demons in the back of class during warm ups (very proud of him. if you couldn’t tell, I’m a percussionist).

sky - let’s be honest, he’d be in orchestra (what a traitor /pf). but if he were in band he’d defo play clarinet. very soft and mellow, and does the instrument justice. very attentive in class and definitely a teachers pet yet not to the extent it’s annoying. he just really enjoys being there.

jazz band:

time - he would play alto sax but would definitely do flute cameos whenever he could. he likes making the crowd go “WOAH! A FLUTE IN JAZZ? THATS EPIK”

twilight - I think he’d learn trombone for jazz. amazing at improvising and his solos are astounding round of applause for twilight 👏👏

warriors - still trumpet, he loves jazz and quite good at the whole concept. 10/10 he loves those high notes in his solos

wind - still trombone. he likes playing around with glissandos and very good at them. his playing is very fun and interesting!

four - i think he’d do piano despite the fact he has 4 saxes to choose from. a god at music theory and has so much fun with the piano. four’s fingers can stretch impossibly far to reach keys. that boy loves his soloing!

legend - trumpet as well. nothings really changed, he likes smooth jazz and you cannot change my mind. he’s usually pretty nonchalant about jazz but he secretly has so much fun with it.

hyrule - electric bass. he loves to have funky solo’s and makes it all look super easy. he can get super energetic and start having *too* much fun in which the band director needs to tell him to calm down 💀

wild - DRUMSEEET! my boy can really rock out on this thing. he really knows how to make the song interesting without being overpowering (sometimes). really good at making things pop

sky - upright bass! that lil guy loves his bass and rather shy with solos, preferring to let others do the solos. he downplays his 11/10 improvisation. which is stupid sky you are amazing at bass

extra headcanons:

time and hyrule would talk a lot in class despite the fact time tries to pay attention. those two have so much dirt on the rest of the band and they KNOW it.

wild and four like to go early before rehearsal to just screw around. whether it be remixing music or just straight up doing some crack stuff, they have a blast.

wind would help twilight with trombone since he’s still a bit new to it. even though he can be a bit annoying to the band, wind is a great teacher and twilight is improving a lot.

wind and warriors would be the evil duo of “who can blast the loudest”. everyone in the band despises them for it.

like I mentioned earlier, warriors is constantly challenging legend or just testing him in which legend blasts warrior’s ego everytime without fail.

more on the double mallets with wild, he quite enjoys making small peaceful songs or finding them to play. if you come early you can hear him practicing and his playing is very soothing. :)

like I said, sky would probably be in orchestra, but I like to think he does both. often doing cameos for both groups, as well. almost like the middle man because the band and orchestra hate it each other, but both agree sky is an exception and everyone cherishes him.

time is the president of the band. everyone loves time. the students and the director. he’s probably one of the best players in the band. extremely mature but in those SMALL moments he’ll do something devious.

twilight is also cherished by the band. he’s very hardworking and has adopted several students. many look up to him as he’s a bit more approachable than time. (time is scary to new people)

though warriors can be annoying, he’d never do anything purposely to screw up the band during performances or whatever. he loves being here even if he’s showing off 24/7.

four is really a jack of all trades when it comes to sax. everyone teases him whenever he plays bari due to the size difference, but no one goes to far because deep down their all scared of the tiny short gremlin who will start speaking in music theory language and confuse everyone.

wow, your still here? 💀 im concerned for your health and mine. really though, if you read all that, I admire your dedication and thanks for listening. there will certainly be more headcanons to come so if you liked this do not fret, it’s not the end. sorry this is so long and sorry for the people who talked in church that I shamelessly tuned out.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

fic writer interview!

totally stealing this from @definitelynotshouting because it looks really fun and I haven't had a chance to yap about my own work in a while!

---<0>---

How many works do you have on AO3?

32! used to be more but I totally deleted some of my old Umbrella Academy fics, sadly - could be around 35 or 36 if I hadn't.

What's your total AO3 word count?

334,360... uh, most of that is from two specific fics haha.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

You Say You Feel Hollow (and you know it's 'cause you are) (HC/Life Series | 775)

INCOMING MESSAGE - COMM RECORDS (HC | 725)

“Man is condemned to be free” (DreamSMP | 547)

I Still Feel Alive (when it's hopeless, I start to notice) (Lunch Club | 488)

Let's Call It An Arrangement (HC | 460)

if you remember my lunch club fics no you don't. also kinda surprised to see the range of fics here - some of my older stuff and then some of my newest too!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes! the only time I maybe won't is when it's a second or third comment in a thread and I have nothing else to say. even a '<3' comment will get a response. I don't get many comments, so I take the time to respond to them all. also, I share details about the writing process and lore of fics if people ask. so 🔫😐 comment to get secret knowledge. (in the same vein, I always respond to asks here about my fics!)

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

oh, man... I don't tend to leave fics on completely horrific endings in any case, but I would say probably my boatem pirate fic, It's All Part of Being a Pirate (HC). definitely the fic with the least ambiguously horrible fate for just everyone involved.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

uh... it depends on your idea of 'happy', honestly. Trembling Jaws Can't Stop Stuttering (HC) is a gore/cannibalism convexian fic that doubles as polyamory negotiations. a lot of people say they feel quite comforted by it despite the violence, especially because of the hopeful ending, so I suppose that qualifies as happy. on the other hand, my alternate canon fic, “Man is condemned to be free” (DreamSMP) is ultimately hurt/comfort with a happy(ish) ending, but you have to get through a lot of literal torture and pain first. so... not exactly 'happy'.

Do you write crossovers?

no, but I do come up with ideas for them quite frequently. I'm just not really compelled to actually write them. my favourite universe to put my blorbos into at any given time is the hunger games. I also do get inspired by other media when coming up with my original ideas - there are definitely hints of shows and films I've watched in some of my fics.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not traditionally, but since I write a lot of gore and cannibalism that is quite graphic (and I do properly tag it of course) sometimes I get people commenting that they weren't expecting such graphic violence, or that it disturbed them. which... idk man, read the tags? it doesn't really bother me to get those comments, I usually just remind them that I did tag it all and they chose to click, but I hope they enjoyed regardless.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

my insane AU *ideas* definitely have way more smut in them than my regular fics (which have none). alas, most of those ideas are sealed away in the DMs of my most trusted confidant (you know who you are) and I am way too asexual to actually write it seriously. those ideas also feature more noncon, dubcon, and general abuse trauma than I would be comfortable sharing on my actual account. they are mostly very cathartic ideas that wouldn't get developed into full fics. I do, however, have a post detailing my headcanons for convexian as a trio on the asexual-autistic-cannibalism spectrum. and yes, those three things are inherently linked. that post and the fics that go with it are as explicit as my works get, really. sometimes I will hint at sex / make innuendos in one-off lines, though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope. I've had a few tumblr posts reposted on instagram, but to my knowledge nothing of mine has been outright stolen... sometimes I see people using very similar plots or styles to mine (particularly in the homoerotic cannibalism genre) and go 'haha it would be funny if they were inspired by my fic' but I'm not popular or egotistical enough to be mad about that.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope. that would be cool, but I'm in pretty english-centric fandoms right now. my aunt had one of her fics translated into five different languages, so I have a lot to live up to!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope, but sometimes I will get ideas from other people or they will get ideas from me. @angeart and I have co-written our Ari AU (HC), but that is more of a detailed summary than a fic. also go read it.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I mean come on. did you think it wasn't going to be scarian? (but grumbo, convex, and all combinations of those four freaks, are also up there)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

basically all of them. Kingdoms AU (HC) will haunt me forever though.

What are your writing strengths?

like others before me I'm just basing this on the comments I get - I am apparently very good at getting character voices right (which is something I do try particularly hard to do, but I honestly think sometimes I get it all wrong). one of my other strong points is writing both abstractly and very literally, especially with gore. I like weaving together metaphors and similes with more blunt descriptions of the physical senses. it seems to work.

What are your writing weaknesses?

oh baby I am terrible with action scenes. pure action really stumps me, and it's what I struggle with most in my professional writing too. that and consistent characterisation (I think in fic maybe it's a bit less of an issue, people don't *really* care if a character is slightly inconsistent, but I bug myself with it... 'he would NOT say that' is my internal motto) also sometimes I dive way too deep into the internal world and forget about the external - especially when a character has to do something simple like walk down the stairs or some other quite mundane action. then everything becomes quite confusing and loaded in too much metaphor and weirdness, something I noticed the most when re-reading the first chapter of Kingdoms AU.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I did it once. badly. I'm monolingual and stupid and my opinion on this is just sort of 'do whatever makes the story flow the best'.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

hamilton. i think. but I had ideas for my little pony and team crafted beforehand that I never wrote because i was, like, 10.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

honestly just wanna write more solo grub (grian x cub). hashtag grub violence.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

one of my least popular fics, and second most recent. Who can really tell? (Life Series) is one of the works that feels the most polished and creatively challenging. perhaps I love it so much because it's unpopular, but I genuinely think my characterisation of listener!bigb was some of my best. it remains amusing to me that its sister fic is my most popular fic by kudos. if you're reading this, perhaps go give it a chance ? 🥺 I also have a huge soft spot for COMMS AU (HC), of course. but it feels unfair to judge an unfinished fic against finished ones.

---<0>---

I don't usually tag people in these sorts of things, but if you wanna give it a go then definitely do! I totally stole the entire formatting and idea from shouting. I will tag @angeart a second time, but no pressure my partner in crime ;D

[angelfleurry]

Hello!

I really liked your Shuichi/Ishimaru “discovering they had feelings” request, and I was wondering if may request one faith Mukuro Ikusaba (assuming you write for her, I didn’t see her in the blacklist but idk)

Mukuro Ikusaba Realising She Has Feelings!!:

Thank you so much for requesting, Anon!! I’m not the best at writing for Mukuro, so I hope I did okay! But I'm glad you asked for her, I enjoyed writing what I did, and I hope you like what I've come up with!

Sorry about the lack of info on the blacklist, by time this request has been uploaded I have edited it slightly! I wrote it late last night so I didn’t completely clarify! Have a wonderful day <3

~

♡ Is very good at hiding her realisation.

♡ Continues to act the same around you; a cold indifference that you never quite know how to interpret.

♡ On the inside, though, she is A MESS.

♡ Definitely protective of you, but from a subtle angle.

♡ What I mean by that is that she observes you from afar, never quite close enough for you to notice, but close enough that she can see all that’s occurring. (In an appropriate fashion, of course.)

♡ She definitely feels somewhat invasive when she does this, but she doesn’t know what to do with herself when it comes to you!

♡ Frequently checks your socials.

♡ Seeing you makes her feel rather safe and warm, even if barely any words are shared, and while she’s very unsure as to why specifically YOU make her feel so warm; she’s not complaining.

♡ Mukuro was rather fond of you to begin with, which did surprise her. She doesn’t really engage much with people, so when she realised how relieved she felt when she saw you, she knew something was up.

♡ Is unsure of whether or not she should talk about her feelings.

♡ She lets them settle, but it’s such a frustrating experience for her.

♡ Ends up being in her head quite a bit, constantly zoning out and mishearing conversations.

♡ Wants to spend more time with you; in fact, she CRAVES it, but she’s too nervous to even bring it up.

♡ Loves your company regardless though. Whether it be a text message or even catching a glimpse of you in the world, just a moment of you makes her feel so alive.

♡ It also makes her face go insanely red, and it definitely makes her legs buckle.

♡ She forgets to breathe when she sees you and, if Junko happens to be present, then she absolutely will be made fun of for it.

♡ Gradually, I imagine Mukuro would start to get softer with you; breaking that coldness she has. She’s not going to be bubbly, no, but she will give you a small smile and start engaging with you a lot more. In a quiet way though.

♡ What I mean by “quiet” is that in social situations she will gravitate towards you, sticking by you, while still maintaining that reserved mystery about her. She’ll express genuine curiosity about your life, or week, just general checking-in’s. She shows 100% attention when you talk, listening to every word you say.

♡ Even when you initiate conversation, she will be there for all of it. She genuinely adores you.

♡ Gets all bashful when you ask about her!

♡ Even so, despite her newfound affection towards you, it is still not wildly obvious she feels for you. To a majority of people, it just appears that she gets along best with you, that you’re the person aside from Junko that she doesn’t mind talking to. Nothing more, nothing less. They don’t suspect a thing.

♡ But we know it’s so much more.

♡ Thinks of you before she goes to sleep at night, hoping you’re resting well.

♡ When doing military practices and such, if Mukuro just so happens to do an excellent job (which, she’s the Ultimate Soldier, of course she does a good job), she imagines how amazing it would be if you were there to see her thrive. She imagines you cheering her on, and it makes her so very motivated! She WANTS to continue excelling at what she does, she wants to keep being present, she wants to exist for you!

♡ Realises how good she would be at protecting you, which makes her feel so proud.

♡ Then she gets all flustered at the way she’s thinking, somewhat embarrassed of herself, probably cringing.

♡ But not cringing at you, just at how soft she’s getting towards you!

♡ She loves you so very much, but she’s so uncertain of what to do!

♡ She intends to keep it to herself, but eventually she realises she’s going to have to talk to you about it!

♡ It makes her want to bash her head into a wall, but also makes her feel new wholesome branches of emotions she didn’t quite know existed.

♡ Somebody help her lungs please, she can’t keep forgetting to breathe!

[gaiaxygang]

perth / chimon series recommendations

are you a newer perth or chimon fan (probably from dangerous romance)? do you want to watch more shows with them but don't know where to start? well i have watched majority of the shows perth or chimon are in and i have a few i can recommend (shortened because once i start i wont stop):

the gifted (2018) and the sequel, the gifted: graduation (2020)

i think this is one of the most well-known series chimon is in but i have to bring it up. set in a high school with a mysterious "gifted programme", it follows the newest batch of "gifted" students as they investigate what's going on behind the programme.

season 1 is one of my top gmmtv series of all time and i think its definitely worth a watch.

the stranded (2019)

after a tsunami hits the island they're schooling on, a bunch of teenagers have to figure out how to survive on their own. not a bl, but perth's character (krit) is dating another man (jack, played by mark siwat). a very strong series overall, though not without its flaws.

i think perth is great here for what little screentime he gets (i also think he looks cute here with glasses). the production is also insanely high quality and the show looks gorgeous.

school tales the series (2022): episode 8

a horror anthology series based in high school. chimon is in episode 8, a walk in school. two friends sneak into school late at night to investigate the school's ghost stories. it is horror, though not exactly the scariest (in my opinion). the other episodes are decent but this one has the strongest writing.

its a short watch, just under an hour but i think both actors (there are only two characters in this episode) are great. the storyline also makes me feel like im being turned into spaghetti

double savage (2023)

two brothers who cared deeply about one another are slowly turned against eachother by circumstance. this one is full of writing issues despite the strong setup and premise HOWEVER!

i did enjoy it because of the strong acting, especially from perth. his character is so pathetic and i say this with love. he is worse than chopper on the Down Bad scale. perth himself seemed to enjoy filming this one quite a lot and he's said that it was one of his favourite roles because of the action scenes

other recommendations

please... siang riak winyan (2017). only 4/6 episodes are subbed but the reason i bring this one up is because perth and chimon we're both in this together! in 2017!!! they didn't have any scenes together so they weren't close but perth knew of chimon from here (and it's what he brings up whenever he's asked about how he met chimon)

home school (2023). i'm more hesitant to recommend this one because i didn't like the ending and messaging but chimon's performance as pennhung was incredibly strong.

vice versa (2022). perth is only in 1 or 2 episodes but i think his character is very pathetic. gmmtv seems to like casting perth as the most pathetic man in the show. i wouldnt say to watch this for perth but as a big fan of vice versa before perthchimon took over my brain i cant not put it here

this isn't a comprehensive list and it's far from everything i enjoyed with them in it (and some of this is very, very subjective lol). i just wanted to put this out here because i love talking about perth and chimon <3_<3

[mecachrome]

3 things you like about landoscar :3

anon this is a great question because i was also asking myself what i liked about them last night during a state of personal reflection ❤️ i don't even know how to boil this down into 3 points but let's see!!!

i think my favorite thing about 814 is that at their core they are a textbook Introvert4Introvert ship, which is fun to Me because i like guys who don't like things (simplification). the distinction is obviously just that their tolerance for socialization manifests differently, aka lando is a unique character because he's deeply reticent in ways you wouldn't expect him to be from the image he's worked hard to build up (well he's clear about not being extroverted but the façade is easily maintained at surface level) so he has quite candidly been like "i don't want anyone to know anything about me!!!" but at the same time is also very... maybe uncontrollably empathetic and has had to consciously learn to stop caring about what strangers think of him because he feels a lot of personal obligation to make people around him happy, including his fans, and out of any driver on the grid probably has his finger best on the pulse of fandom subculture. meanwhile oscar is also an introvert and is definitely like a fundamentally nice guy but he doesn't necessarily have this natural Empathy for fans (wearing friendship bracelets and indulging in their occasionally insane behavior), doesn't have deeply devoted codependent relationships with his childhood friends, etc., so i like that they have very similar base personalities and dry sarcastic senses of humor but that they even each other out in their own way... like sure lando is more outspoken and oscar hates doing media but i would almost argue that lando feels a certain level of innate discomfort making his voice known OnlineTM because he's like no matter what i say someone will be mad so what's the point! which is why he's streamlined so many of these processes and has people running all of his accounts vs. oscar who is more willing to just share "himself" online because he doesn't experience this superfluous pressure, BUT ALSO:

despite oscar being more naturally an "independent" character i love oscar gravitating toward lando in public spaces because "lando's the one i know best" and the dynamic of lando being his very first teammate, and then lando going from the big personalities of carlos and daniel to a very low-maintenance but also younger, inexperienced teammate and trying to figure out how to accommodate him. the little moments of oscar wanting lando near him (silverstone "i've been abandoned by my teammate at his home race!!!") even if he doesn't necessarily Need Him are so dear 2 me 🥲🫠

last but not least but on some superficial level they're just fun to watch and i think they are a very complementary looking duo!!! i know people like to joke that they're virtually indinstinguishable twinks but imo they have very distinctive features that work well together, idk if this sounds weird to say but i like how lando has a much more... angular build compared to oscar and then obviously oscar is constantly flushed and pleasantly smiling around him which is enjoyable <3 Also the 2cm height difference banter and reciprocally fond looks and oscar's zendaya laughter are of course well-documented and just in general i enjoy that they are very expressive people who cannot control their reactions well at all LOL. i know oscar is considered more serious and measured of the two but when it matters (read: when he is anywhere near lando) he is an open book... 

[apompkwrites]

I just read your story, the one with Xiao and Albedo, its really good! I love it! Is it ok if you do the same thing but with Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe and Diluc version. I can see how excited these guys are since Kaeya first appeared is clapping his hand, the way Childe call Lumine 'Hey Girlie', Zhongli with how handsome he is especially his eyes and with Diluc how mysterious he is when he appeared out of nowhere

Feel free to do it if you're not busy or you can ignore this :3

reader impact || first meeting cont.

series masterlist characters: kaeya, diluc, childe genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: i’m glad you liked it! i’m having a lot of fun writing these so expect some more coming out :D i plan on doing more first meeting hcs and then branching off to other scenarios, so if there’s something specific, please request it! also, i’ve already done one for zhongli!

kaeya's playthrough -

he's more of a variety streamer, honestly.

most of his viewers watch him because of his carefree nature (as well as his looks).

obviously, he'd do a bunch of drinking streams whenever he could where he would just talk to his viewers about whatever came to mind.

during those streams, his viewers often try to ask him questions, which are only answered in vague statements.

his gaming streams are pretty rare compared to his chatting streams, but they're there nonetheless.

his viewers jump when they hear he's planning on playing genshin impact.

just neverending messages about a character they are convinced he will love.

he's so tempted to ask but decides not to, wanting to learn who this mystery character is on his own.

honestly, he was expecting you to appear way later in the story.

he's very interested in the looming threat of stormterror.

his character lands on the ground and he leans back to watch the cutscene play.

then he hears footsteps and sees his character look to someone offscreen.

this man practically LUNGES INTO HIS MONITOR WHEN THE CAMERA PANS UP TO YOU.

you walk in clapping at a calculated pace, which is when he leans forward and stares at your character model.

"i can't believe you have the power to stand up against that dragon... that said, are you a new ally... or a new storm?"

"oh, hun, i can be whatever you want me to be."

HE'S ALREADY FLIRTING WITH YOU PLEASE HIS CHAT IS IN HYSTERICS-

he knows his chat is freaking out, so he turns to the camera and sends his signature smirk.

"now i know why you guys wanted me to play this so bad."

"(name), kaeya, you've come at the right time. we must..."

"now now, don't forget to introduce us."

"oh... right. this is (name), our cavalry captain. these two are travelers from afar."

"ooh, they're a person in charge, too?"

HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING TO HIS CHAT BUT THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU DO TO HIM.

he genuinely likes you. like genuinely. he's fallen deep and he doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

if your costume has that long v-neck like his does...

hOO BOY HE'S THANKING EVERY DEVELOPER OF THIS GAME.

anyway, he's heard that there are characters you can only obtain throguh wishes, so he's kind of nervous to find out if that's the case with you.

he just really wants you in his party so y'all can be mysterious together.

"let me show you how the knights of favonius conquer our adversaries!"

"oh, yes. please do."

his viewers can and will make compilations of him flirting with you.

ngl, he's looking forward to those.

sometimes, your voice gets all quiet and he melts when he hears that.

he will pay to have voicelines of you flirting with him--

when he enters your trial domain, he will purposely avoid completing it just in case he doesn't get to keep you.

he sees some of his viewers talking about how you're a bad character and that the other characters are so much better.

too bad, they're banned now.

no (name) slander in his chat, thank you very much.

he loves your quips whenever he uses your elemental skill.

he loves you even more if those quips are puns based on your element.

finally, he's nearing the end of your domain. when that happens, he will slowly turn towards the camera and stare.

"if they aren't a permanent member on my team, this'll be the last stream of genshin."

"let's continue our adventure, shall we?"

obtained (name): a thinker in the knights of favonius with a somewhat exotic appearance.

"okay, so we'll continue streaming genshin soon."

he'll put you in the first slot of his party, moving his traveler character to the second.

his streams will always include him flirting with you, even if you don't reply.

diluc's playthrough -

his streams are mainly bartending based, so he likes mixing drinks on stream for his viewers.

he doesn't drink them, though. he gives them out to his friends and family once the stream is over.

it's pretty rare for him to play games but he'll do an occasional gaming stream if his friends and family don't want any drinks.

his chat always makes fun of him because he's a bartender that doesn't like the taste of alcohol.

he's very blunt, so he's not afraid to drop a game immediately if he isn't interested.

in fact, that's almost what he did with genshin.

it's not like the game is bad or anything, diluc just didn't care for it because of all the hype his chat shared.

he keeps playing, though, because someone promised he would really enjoy a character that comes up in the prologue.

granted, it's over an hour or so but it doesn't matter--

when he gets to the domain teaching him how to use cryo, he hates every minute of it.

he hates the character he's given and just wants to leave.

the demo character is one he doesn't really care for, especially because he's the type of person he dislikes coming to the bars he works at.

his chat is laughing at him when they reach the end because the cutscene continues with the character he hates.

he feels a bit better when he learns the abyss mage is in the domain because he gets to see and hear something that isn't the cryo character.

then he meets you.

you run into the domain out of nowhere, quickly defeating the abyss mage and tossing it towards the corner.

"knights of favonius... always so inefficient."

his chat goes insane when your character appears, especially because of how dumbfounded diluc looks.

he's known for not really emoting and it's the same case for this scene. however, his chat knows he is in love with your character.

he takes a few minutes when he's kicked out of the domain but he clears his throat and looks over at the camera.

"i'll be streaming this game again soon when the others don't want any drinks."

YOU SINGLEHANDEDLY SAVED THIS GAME FROM BEING TOSSED AWAY WITHIN A MINUTE OF APPEARING

THE POWER YOU HOLD OVER THIS MAN AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME--

cut to after he's stolen the lyre and is sent to the tavern.

he's a bit excited because he gets to visit mondstadt's tavern but then--

"master (name), this is this week's accounts."

"they're back."

HE'S SO NONCHALANT BUT WE ALL KNOW HE'S FREAKING OUT

he gets second-hand embarrassment when venti talks to you asking for the... least conspicuous table.

he's kinda sad when your character is suspicious of him, but he understands.

when the knights leave the tavern, he really wants venti to just shut up.

please you're embarrassing the man.

when he hears how you feel about him joining the knights, he is so willing to quit--

man just wants you to be proud of him and trust him :((

he's relieved to hear that you will help him and you don't hate him.

please give him validation--

childe's playthrough -

man is still rich he can do whatever he wants.

his gaming streams would definitely be pvp based games. honestly, just any game where he can fight someone, he'll play.

his chat also has a few little games they like to play together like guessing what the hell this man does to have so much money--

also his siblings crash in on his streams sometimes :D

those are pretty much the only times you'll see him be soft and not so competitive.

teucer likes crashing his streams to show off his plushies :))

anyway, genshin time!

he definitely tried to fight paimon the first time he loaded the game.

please expect lots of genshin stream from this guy because he needs to make his team deal the highest damage he can get.

also his wallet doesn't even have a dent in it despite all of the money he's spent on characters and weapons.

please sir what do you do for all that money

ok so onto your first meeting

he was really excited when the exuvia fell during the rite of descension because he thought he would get to fight whoever killed the great archon of liyue.

he really wanted to fight the millelith but then his chat convinced him to dodge them first.

one of his viewers explains that there's a character they know he'll like and he was very... intriguied to say the least.

he moves forward in his chair once his character is heard by the millelith, prepared to fight the various soldiers surrounding him.

"hang on, sweetheart. i've got this."

this man will squeal when you flip over the stairs in front of his character.

he doesn't know who you are and what you do but he knows for a fact that you are his new favorite character.

you take down all of the guards in two seconds, leaving him (and his in-game character) dumbfounded.

"come with me."

"o-okay..."

he's smitten.

he absolutely loves the way your character fights even if he met you about... a minute ago.

his siblings definitely come into his room to check on him because he's so quiet.

once he realizes you're a part of the harbingers, he's even more obsessed.

he hates the options the game gives him when he needs to respond because 2/3 of them are insulting you.

anyway he really likes listening to your voice.

he will give anything to hear you call him sweetheart again.

his chat informs him that the traveler he chose changed the nickname you give him, which makes him very happy.

when you send him off to talk to the other adepti, he's kind of disappointed he doesn't get to hang out with you.

but when he gets back to you...

"welcome back, sweetheart. how was your trip to jueyun karst?"

HE'S SOFT ALL OVER AGAIN PLEASE KEEP CALLING HIM SWEETHEART!!!

when he learns you're rich just like him... he gets all pouty. his chat, of course, wants to know why.

"... i want to be able to spoil her."

PLEASE HE'S SO IN LOVE WITH YOU <3

[alluringjae]

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

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

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

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

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “As in bi-curious?”

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

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

    ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

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

  He’s lying. You can tell.

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

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

  He’s angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

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

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

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

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

  “Tell you what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

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

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

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

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

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

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

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

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

  “You’re bossy today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

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

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

        ||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Thank you.”

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

  “Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

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

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

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

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

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

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

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

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

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

  “Last time you said that…”

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

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

  “What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

  “Who is it?”

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

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

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

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

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

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

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

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

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

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

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yoongi, what-“

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

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

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

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

   Brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Why not?”

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

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

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

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

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

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

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

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

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

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

   ||\\

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

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

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

  No. He promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m sorry.”

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

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

  “What, now? Y/N-“

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

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

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

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

  “H-How come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

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

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “My place.”

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

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

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

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

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

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

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

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

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

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

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

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

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

  “Not even then.”

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

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

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

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

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

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

  Alright. Great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “B-But the protocol-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

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

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

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

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

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

  “So you rebelled?”

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

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

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

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

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

  “Because of the devil, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

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

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

  “Then why?”

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

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

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

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

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

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

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

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

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

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

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

  “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

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

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Can we go home, please?”

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

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

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

[minor-solemnity]

hi omg i love you so much!!!! every time i see you post i get so excited!!!!! if requests are still open can you please write over protective tom! i'm a simp for tom x reader when he is super protective over her! thank you😘😘

Eee, thank you! You’re the sweetest omg <3 I really hope you enjoy this! (We all simp for super protective Tom, don’t we? I definitely do)

Tag List: @naps-and-lemons @jinxqsu @riddles-wifey @cakesarecute @mostlynonsense

The Dark Forest

“Stand up for me, and stay close now.” You follow his instructions, the basket and the flowers lying forgotten at your feet. There is something about the way Tom’s holding himself, his back is a straight line of tension, his shoulders are taught, the grip on his wand rigid. He looks like he’s ready for a fight.

The Forbidden Forest is a strange and remarkable place. From afar, it looks like a solid wall of black that fades into hazy mist regardless of the time of day. You’ve always held a certain fascination with the forest, spending a lot of your free time edging the perimeter and peering in through the thicket, trying to get a glimpse of what lies within. You’d given up Care of Magical Creatures as an elective when you had learnt that Professor Kettleburn had made it quite clear to you that he had no plan to ever lead students inside. It had been one of your favourite things to complain about in fourth year, and your secret hope that you’d one day find an excuse to venture beyond the borders.

You suppose the phrase be careful what you wish for was penned for situations such as the one you find yourself in now.

You trudge along the narrow path, one hand gripping your wand and the other holding onto the wicker basket that Professor Kettleburn had given you to collect the stella syriaca flowers before sending you and Tom off into the forest. The only light source you have is the lumos you’ve cast to guide you through the forest and the pale, white-blue light your wand emits turns the forest into a strange imitation of nature. In this light, at this moment, you can almost convince yourself that the trees and the undergrowth are abstractions of nature, an impressionist’s depiction of what a forest might look like.

This in itself isn’t a problem - you’re not so easily scared that the dark and unfamiliar are frightening in themselves. The problem is that you’re fairly certain that you’re being followed. Not that you’re going to mention this particular concern to Tom. He’s already been dragged out to the Forbidden Forest unnecessarily because of you, you don’t want to annoy him with your paranoid imagination. “Tom, do you have any idea where we are?” You ask, trying to keep your voice and calm. You don’t want him thinking that you’re scared, not when it’s your fault that you’re both in this mess.

“If the directions that Kettleburn gave us are to be trusted, we should be nearly at the clearing,” He responds, and unlike you, he doesn’t sound like he’s pretended not to be scared. He just sounds unbothered by the situation, like this is as normal as a trip to the library or a walk around the lake. He glances down at you and frowns slightly as he takes in your clenched fists and tight expression. In the light of the lumos, his concerned expression turns sinister, strange shadows forming under his eyes and distort his usually beautiful features into something otherworldly and dangerous. When he talks though, his voice is soothing and calm, “Are you alright? I would have thought that you, of all people, would enjoy this particular punishment.” You hum in response, unwilling to voice your current thoughts but unwilling to lie either. Lying never works well with Tom anyway - his talent for spotting lies is as good as his talent for the art itself.

“I’m just sorry that I dragged you into this mess,” You murmur, which isn’t a lie. You are sorry that he’s had to give up his evening to escort you into the forest. “You shouldn’t have to do this just because I was being an idiot.” And the fact that this is essentially all your fault rankles you immensely. The issue is… Well, the issue is that you don’t really have anyone other than yourself to blame. No. No, that’s not entirely true. You can definitely blame the school for your current situation; it’s insane that they would send students out into the Forbidden Forest at night unaided and alone as a punishment. Professor Seprenta’s petty desire to take out her frustrations on her students by sending them into potentially perilous places is nothing to do with you. But the circumstances leading up to your detention?

Well, that’s all you.

You wish you could pass the blame but frustratingly you can’t. You decided all by yourself that it would be a good idea to sneak out after curfew to practise summoning circles. It’s also your fault that you’d (stupidly) chosen an empty classroom that just so happened to be next to Seprenta’s office and had forgotten to cast a silencing charm. She’d found you, chalk dust up to your elbows, scattering bay leaves, lavender, and mandrake roots in the four corners of the room.

Needless to say, she hadn’t been impressed, and you’re still not entirely sure if it’s because she caught you out after curfew or if it’s because Seprenta has a weird grudge against any magic that doesn’t involve the direct use of a wand. Either way, it hardly matters now. What matters is that you had been landed in detention and Tom is the one who volunteered to watch over you, ostensibly to make sure that you didn’t skive off, but in reality, you know that it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of you venturing off into the forest alone and without protection.

Next to you, Tom stills and grabs your shoulder, using his leverage to turn you in place until you’re face to face. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t take responsibility for my own actions, it’s terribly narcissistic of you.” He says and despite the insulting nature of his words, you find yourself reassured. Tom is… not the best at kind words and sweet nothings, not unless he’s employing them to get what he wants that is. When he’s being honest, he has a tendency towards bluntness that borders on rude. It says a lot about his feelings towards you that he is rarely charming and sycophantic. “If I hadn’t wanted to come with you, I wouldn’t have, so please, save your guilt for when you need it.”

With a small, weak laugh you nod, “I’ll keep that in mind… Thank you.” Even in the alien lighting, the small smile that lifts Tom’s lips is pleased and soft and maybe a little surprised. The fact that he so rarely hears honest thanks is more than a little heartbreaking. The pair of you continue forwards, Tom leading the way and you following close behind, ever conscious of the… thing watching from the shadows.

You’d first noticed the thing about twenty or so minutes into your exploration of the forest - a silent shadow, no bigger than a bulldog, that flickered in and out of existence in your peripheral vision. You’d not paid it much attention, to begin with, there were plenty of strange things that lived in the forest, after all, and you’d been confident in your assessment that the professors wouldn’t actually put you in the way of any real harm. That confidence has diminished the further in you’ve gone, even with Tom by your side. Now, when you catch a glimpse of it, the shadow looks bigger - maybe the size of a large sheep and a lot more defined. It melts into the darkness whenever you try to get a better look, but you’re fairly sure that it’s more solid than it had been when you’d first seen it.

You tell yourself you’re being paranoid, that the stories the ghosts like to tell you about what goes on in the forest at night have finally gotten to you, but the longer you walk, the more certain you are that there is something in the shadows. “…Tom? Tom, I think something’s following us.”

“I’d be surprised if there wasn’t, darling. You know as well as I do that these woods are alive with more than just birds and trees.” His words are not at all comforting and you find yourself growing annoyed with his flippancy. What you might lack in foresight, you make up for in common sense and your senses are telling you to pay closer attention to the shadows that encroach and creep and linger all around you.

“Tom, I’m being serious. Something is watching us.” He must pick up on the vaguely panicked edge to your words because he stops again and flicks his wand in a complicated motion and a vibrant flame erupts from the tip, floating just above your heads. You give yourself a moment to marvel at his ability before the matter at hand takes precedence and you cast around to try and catch sight of whatever it is that you’ve been seeing. “It was… It was right behind us,” You say, scanning the trees for any sight of the thing. Whatever it is, it’s nowhere to be found. “I swear it was here.”

He hums in response, and when you look at him, you can tell that he’s sceptical. Still, he sends the ball of flame in the direction that you’re pointing and the light seems to reverberate around the dark forest, revealing leaves and branches and thick patches of undergrowth but no moving shadow. Satisfied, he flics his wand again the flame extinguishes. “Keep an eye out - if you think you see something again, tell me.” You nod and bite your lip, pressing a little closer to his side as you continue your trek. You feel like a small child, huddled under your blankets to hide yourself from the darkest shadows in your bedroom. Fear is a funny thing, it’s an almost tangible emotion, prickling the back of your neck and sticking to you like sand on wet skin. Still, you’re almost at the clearing and then all you need to do is pick the flowers and get out.

The stella syriaca flowers only bloom at night, the tiny flowers growing in spherical clusters. Under the glow of your wand, they blossom pearlescent and delicate, like miniature moons rising from the forest floor. You set the basket down and begin to pick the flowers, careful not to crush the petals as Tom watches over you. “You don’t fancy helping?” You call over your shoulder and somewhere above you, Tom breathes out a huff of laughter.

“I hardly see why I should - this is your punishment, is it not?” He counters, wry humour coating his words and you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. Now that you’re in the clearing, you don’t feel so afraid, the knowledge that you’ll soon be out of the forest bolstering your confidence. Silence falls upon you and you get lost in the monotony of plucking the flowers, the repetitive actions lulling you into a daze so much so that you don’t immediately notice the rustling in the trees towards the edge of the clearing or the way that Tom’s posture tenses and his eyes turn to slits.

You startle when his hands brush the top of your head, and you look up at from where you’re kneeling on the ground to see what the problem is. Tom looks… He doesn't look scared, which you think is probably a good thing, but he does look agitated. His expression is shuttered window, no light or levity flickers behind the darks of his eyes, no ironic smile curling his lips. You only ever see this side of him when someone displeases him in a particularly grievous manner and he’s never looked at you with that cold blankness that reminds you of ice storms and black tar. You spare a thought for his enemies because you imagine you’d probably drop down dead in an instant if he were to ever turn this particular expression on you.

When he talks, his voice is tight, “What did you think you saw earlier?”

“A… I don’t really know—” Tom makes a low, irritated sound in the back of his throat and the hand that’s resting on your head tightens slightly. “—It was like a moving shadow out of the corner of my eye. It disappeared whenever I tried to look at it, but I think it was getting bigger the deeper we went.” You can’t keep the nervousness out of your voice as you scan the perimeters of the clearing, trying to get a glimpse of whatever it is that’s got Tom on edge. The darkness of the forest seems to loom and though you can’t see anything, you can feel it watching you, can feel the way it sizes you up the same way your cat sizes up mice in the courtyard before she pounces. You’ve always thought it was cute - the way her eyes would grow large and black and her lithe body would scrunch up before she attacked. You don’t find it cute now, though. Not when you’re the mouse.

Tom hums in response and he almost sounds relieved, though you can’t think of a single reason why. “Stand up for me, and stay close now.” You follow his instructions, the basket and the flowers lying forgotten at your feet. There is something about the way Tom’s holding himself, his back is a straight line of tension, his shoulders are taught, the grip on his wand is rigid. He looks like he’s ready for a fight. “Stop the lumos, darling.” At your noise of protest, he shoots you a quick smile which you think is supposed to be reassuring but in reality, looks vaguely foreboding. “Trust me.”

“Nox. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oh, yeah, you sound really— Merlin, what the fuck?” The shadows in front of you shift, and something big and black and not really there seems to collect in the near pitch black. Vapours in the air that pool and swirl until they coalesce into a shadowy thing the size of a shire horse. For a moment, it just hangs there, waiting and watching and anticipating.

And then it lunges.

In the grand scheme of things, your life is relatively unimportant. You’re not so narcissistic that you believe that the world will be irrevocably changed or diminished if you were to meet an untimely end - sure, your family and friends would be sad for a while, your cat would wonder why you’re no longer around to give them treats and ear scratches, but nothing would fundamentally change if you were to die. You know all of this and still, you’re staring down the proverbial barrel of a gun and the only thing that’s running through your mind is, Dear Gods, why me?

You realise in this instant that you are not made for combat. This shouldn’t be a surprise to you - you’re pretty good at Defence, but you’ve never enjoyed duelling. In contrast to your frozen reaction, Tom responds immediately. The rigidity of his posture melts into something fluid and instinctive, and he’s stepping in front of you in one smooth motion and slashing his wand through the air in the next. Violet light arches through the darkness and the thing rears back, as though wounded before it pushes forward. You scramble backwards, staring in horror at the thing. In the spell-light, you can see now that its body is made up almost entirely of shadows - living, sentient shadows that join and divide around a curling skeleton. The only thing standing between you and the shadows is Tom, who is in his element, a whirl of controlled energy and deft wand movements. You’ve seen him duel before, but only in the relative safety of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and watching him now, in an environment where he doesn’t need to hold himself back, where every ounce of his focus and skill is directed at a real-life foe inspires awe and wonder and fear inside you.

The thing slinks around the two of you and tendrils of shadow and darkness curl out and whip at Tom’s feet. You think it must realise that of the two you, Tom is the more immediate threat. Tom leaps out of the way and advances, seemingly without fear for care for his own safety and you’re dimly aware that you’re yelling for him to get back and away. He either doesn’t hear you over the sound of his own casting or he doesn’t care - he just keeps moving, ducking neatly out of the way of another tendril as he sends a jet of golden light that splinters and pierces the monster’s shadows. You keep a tight grip on your wand, trying to think of any spell that might do something against an incorporeal monster.

The monster lets out a shriek and you’re not sure if it’s in pain or just angry but Tom is already moving again. He reaches for you blindly, not taking his eyes off the thing that is currently writhing on the forest floor. Before it can get a chance to recover, Tom raises his wand a final time and the bright white light of a lumos encompasses the shadow being burning and blinding until all that remains is a charred husk a skeleton that matches no anatomy of any creature you’re familiar with.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” In contrast to the surety with which he duels, his voice is wrecked, a kind of frantic worry lacing his words. When his hands find yours, his grip is tight to the point of it being painful, as though he’s half-convinced that if he lets go you’ll fade into the shadows along with the monster.

A feeling of warmth and affection surges inside of you, far stronger than the fear that courses through your veins and you grip his hand back, clinging just as tightly to him as he is to you. “I’m fine— Tom, are you okay? I’m sorry for dragging you out here with me,” You say, anger at having gotten him into this mess and anger that the school would harbour some kind of shadow demon in the forest forging your voice into something sharp and hard.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He says and you’d be insulted by the way he brushes you off if it weren’t for the way that his thumb brushes your knuckles as he pulls you closer to his side. You know him well enough to hear the unspoken worry in his words. “This is exactly why I came with you.” You know he’s telling the truth. Since you’ve known him, Tom has always had an uncanny ability to know when you’ll need him, has always been there to help and protect you. Usually, that involves editing your essays and handing out detentions to people who trouble you, but you shouldn’t be surprised that he’s taken his chosen role to heart and would gladly put himself in harm's way if it meant you didn’t have to.

Nestled against him like this, you feel the fear that’s been with you since you first entered the forest fade, leaving behind a tired sort of fondness and relief. He’s still glaring at the place where the thing used to be, still tense and stiff as though he’s waiting for it to rise up and start attacking you both again. Tentatively, you reach up and brush your fingers against his jaw, willing him to turn and look at you, so that you can see for yourself that he’s okay, that he’s still here, with you. After a pause, he grants you your wish and your heart quickens at the ferocity lingering in his eyes. “Thank you,” You breathe and just like that, something shifts in the air around you and the tension leaches out of him.

He leans down and brushes a kiss against your forehead and you wind your arms around his back, one hand splayed firmly against his shoulder blades, the other running through the short dark curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m okay, I promise. Thank you for being here.” And you’re not just thanking him for tonight, though are you grateful, you’re thanking him for every instance he’s stepped in to look after and protect you.

“I’d never let anything happen to you, you must realise that by now.” He murmurs, and in the hushed silence of the forest, you can hear the unspoken promise clear as you can feel the warmth of his hand in yours.

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Could you do some hcs for dating the teen titans?

Yes I can!! I just got HBO Max so I’ve been binging both the animated and the live action series haha 😂 Thank you so much for being my first request!

Also I’m guessing you’re referring to the original teen titans, so if you want the new teen titans just shoot me another request!

Dating the Teen Titans Would Include...

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.0K (About 0.2K per Titan)

Dick Grayson

You must have an insane amount of patience, truly, to be able to date Dick Grayson

If the joke book he probably carries around isn’t enough, I would’ve been certain that the ego would drive you away but nope you’re still here

And that’s how you both knew that it was true fucking love you’re both inseparable and the Titans know it.

To put things simply... he loves you and the Titans fear you.

While you’re both somewhat easygoing and hospitable, one would do well not to piss off one or the other because you both come as a package deal and you can kick ass when necessary you just choose not to embarrass Dick like that because you could totally outmatch him.

Don’t ask him that though he’d insist that he’d win.

Best not bring up the first time you met or else the Titans would never let him live it down

But in all seriousness, I see the relationship as rather lighthearted and enjoyable, maybe a bit spontaneous too. Want to go to the beach? Done. Want to kick some ass in Gotham? For sure. It’s like a match made in heaven.

Not to mention that the Titans rather look up to you, which is a definite plus. Not just anyone can date the Dick Grayson.

Wally West

As opposed to popular opinion... I’d think that this is a rather slow relationship. 

Speedsters are more than just familiar with how life just flashes by so I think Wally would like to enjoy the relationship at a slower pace, he wants it to last as long as possible.

With that said, you’re both menaces. His speed combined with your cleverness? No one is safe and the Titans know it.

The best moment of your relationship, although this is debatable, was when you and Wally successfully turned the Titan tower into an all-out prank minefield. Trash cans were covered with plastic, buckets of water places on doorways, even wardrobes were switched.

And all done in ten seconds, impressive. Nothing quite like starting a war in the Tower then grabbing burgers after, right?

Kind of cheesy but I can see you both having frequent movie nights that differ in genre according to month. You both probably rotate on who chooses the movie too.

Overall I think you both have a lot of fun together, if I were to compare the “vibes” to something, I would say a summer relationship (that obviously lasts longer than just a summer) where everything is just living life as it goes

Nah because like I said before you guys don’t want to rush things, and you’re always there to remind Wally to just slow down every now and then.

I should probably mention that this is a competitive relationship too, before I go, not everything’s a competition but everything’s a competition, you know? It’s a shame that the Titans often get caught in the cross fire though-

Donna Troy

Oh this one’s fun. Donna’s new to this whole “rest of the world” stuff but luckily she has a wonderful partner who’s willing to teach her everything.

A lot of the relationship consists of you explaining things, but it’s kind of endearing despite Donna’s headstrong attitude towards anything

But Donna is also the kind to be open to learning new things, and you’re open to trying new things. It works like clockwork, you’re both young and willing.

Now these “things” can range from baking cookies to extreme mountain climbing so be prepared for anything in this relationship.

Overall I think the Titans see you both as a really cute relationship, one that anyone could be slightly envious of and one that they’re glad that exists

But despite this loving relationship I think you’d both be absolute machines in a battle, I think one thing that is important to Donna is ultimately respect for each other’s abilities, having grown up on Themyscira and all, and maybe that one battle where you absolutely demolished the enemy was when she really caught interest.

Or not. It could’ve also been when you mistakenly ran into one of the glass walls in the tower and she developed a crush over you while you mumbled a series of curses.

This relationship is strongly built on loyalty, so I think you both would be describes as a pair of ride-or-dies who typically tend to lean towards the latter, especially when trying the more extreme things that Donna asked you about.

But overall I think it’s a really sweet relationship with few bumps, they’re still there but I mean that you’re both good at working through them.

Victor Stone

I feel like this relationship is very classical high school romance, you know?

Like walking to class together, holding each other’s books, stuff like that.

But on the other hand I feel like you’re both a very fun couple to be around, like you know how when you’re with some couples it feels like you’re third wheeling? Not these two. You feel like you’re part of the crew

You guys probably switch between fun couple and parent couple every now and then, I can see the Titans relying on both of you a lot for different things.

You and Victor are definitely the type to play games to determine who buys food, like things as simple as rock-paper-scissors to things as complicated as 8-Ball, and so far you’ve been winning at a ratio of 3:1.

Definitely a very trusting relationship, I feel like you both reach that comfortable stage faster than most, but it feels right, you know? I think you’d both understand that relationships go both ways.

There are probably times where you’re both in a teasing mode too, I think, but they’re mostly light hearted pranks, definitely not anything in the realm of what Wally would do

I kinda want to say that you’re a very active couple in that you both like to go to the gym together and idk take hikes together but at the same time I also want to say that you’re both inclined to stay home and play video games so I guess it’s like a 50/50

I can also see Victor being the type to do small acts of generosity as opposed to like buying gifts to show his appreciation for you, like I feel like he’s more inclined to help you with small tasks when he knows you need it, you know? Overall very cute, hehe

Raven (Rachel Roth)

Now this one’s interesting, you and Raven are certainly an interesting duo, but the most interesting thing would likely be how you met. Let’s say it involved a blood sacrifice, a bat, and a very old bicycle.

No you weren’t trying to summon her someone else was you just ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time anyway moving on

You’re both the perfect example of opposites attract for more reasons than just one. 

But what makes it better is that you’re always open and willing to learn and understand many of the things that Raven does and she appreciates it a lot

It goes both ways also! She’s always willing to do whatever you ask her to and you both end up having at least some fun even if it happens to be something she isn’t used to.

Random, but I think a favorite pass time for both of you is simply sitting in her room and reading books, weird, I know, but like there’s something inherently romantic about either of you excitedly showing the other a certain passage you both enjoyed or telling them about your book, it’s just so sweet.

She definitely has a personal bias towards you, obviously, Garfield can say a joke and she’d stare at him with a straight face but you could say the exact same joke probably right after him and she would crack a smile and she probably does that on purpose but it still feels nice

You also may or may not have caught on to her incantations and now you may or may not be able to perform these spells but you haven’t tried because you wouldn’t know how to but it’s just telling of how much time you spent together.

I only mention this because there was an event in which you corrected her incantation and suddenly hell fire appeared which she had to figure out how to get rid of and since then you both mutually agreed to both (a) not tell the Titans and (b) not say incantations out loud

Koriand’r (Starfire)

STOP YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE anyway you’re definitely both kinds to see beauty in everything

Maybe this relationship is rather dangerous considering you’re both curious people and Kori happens to be able to shoot lasers out of her eyes so maybe you should both be just a little more careful

You’re both probably very doting on both each other and the rest of the Titans and although you’re both well intentioned it has become a case of “oh no there’s two of them” but in like a teasing way

I feel like Kori is very open to sharing a lot of aspects about her culture with you, and you have always found Tamaran culture to be beautiful so it fits

Likewise you share a lot of things about your culture too and you both bond over finding ways to combine them together to make a nice fusion of understandings and it’s all a sweet combination

See a big thing about this relationship if that you both put your everything into it, it is an equal push and equal pull kind of thing where you both love each other with everything that you have and it creates this unbreakable bond that even non-supers have come to acknowledge

Though this also results in the both of you frequently being in your own world even when others are around and that’s something you both promised to fix but yeah...

It’s coming around, don’t worry. You’re both making active efforts but sometimes it just slips your mind and whoops

Now this should go without saying but this trust often leads to powerful combinations when in missions, you’re both fiercely loyal to each other and this often plays in overall favor so all is well

Garfield Logan

This is a fun relationship, definitely, and one that’s also very fulfilling.

You’re both definitely an outdoorsy couple, things like hikes, nature walks (which I guess is also a hike but I’ve been told otherwise), trips to the zoo, etc. but this all just builds the relationship

Also a very sweet one! You both have an unlimited amount of energy and love that you’re often expending said energy volunteering somewhere and helping others out

But when it boils down you’re both also very touchy, I think, you both like being together at all times and cuddles are a frequent occurrence but at the will of the other Titans you both do this in privacy

I also feel like this sweetness can also “flip,” so to say. As in if someone messes with either of you in the relationship the other will come running regardless of whether or not they could do anything about it.

To put it short, you both have each other’s back all the time. Literally, like I said you’re both inseparable. 

Despite these I think the relationship would actually be rather lowkey, I don’t think he would be the type to constantly showcase the relationship. I think he’d mention it like once to get it out there but after that he wouldn’t flaunt you around.

I just think that Garfield, even with his usual out and about behavior, is rather modest when it comes to this topic because you’re more to him than just someone to show off, you’re someone who’s important to him and overall he just wants you to be comfortable

If there’s one flaw in this relationship it’s that when you have arguments it’s just horrible, but also rather comedic. Neither of you talk to the other but you both end up still being in the same room together subconsciously. It’s kind of awkward but the coincidences are what makes the other Titans laugh and honestly you both make up within, like, a day or something.

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive conversations, fluff, fingering, soft smut

A/N: A little treat for the horndogs <3

"O-oh god! It's too big Nev, 's not gonna...c-can't-"

"Oh It's going to fit, don't worry pretty girl. Daddy's gonna fuck you so good. You want that, don't you baby?" He asked, cooing as she nodded frantically, tongue lulled out the side of her mouth. Neville had barely gotten past the tip before she began whining, crying about how big he was. He couldn’t help but lose control, shoving himself deep inside her, pistoning his hips at an ungodly pace. His eyes lingered on her chest, entranced by the hypnotic sway that they had due to his thrust. Pinning her hands to the bed, their eyes locked in an intense moment. 

“O-oh fuck princess, you’re so tight. You gonna cum? Hm? Gonna make a-”

“Nev?” he snapped up, a heavy gasp leaving his lips as looked to his side. (Y/n) sat there, a confused look on her face. “Are you alright? I think you were having a nightmare. You kept making a bunch of noises in your sleep!” he felt his face flush, clearing his throat as he looked away from her. His heart began to race as she climbed into his lap, turning his face towards hers. He looked at her, hoping his nerves weren't clear on his face. Due to the snickers he heard in the background, he was certain it was obvious to just about everyone but her what the issue was. 

“Hey um, petal, you might wanna move.” he whispered to her, trying to keep her hips from his troubled area.

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head once more as she moved back. Her eyes widened at the newfound breeze on her rear due to her skirt being lifted up. Not sure of what the cause was she moved back slightly, gasping at the feeling of something hard and long against her ass. Suddenly it all set in, he was- “O-oh. I’m sorry Nev.” she squeaked, quickly hopping from his lap. She smoothed down her skirt, clearing her throat as she eyed everyone in the room awkwardly. While the pair seemed flustered, the team couldn’t get enough of the interaction.

“Well I guess it’s clear why you’re the boss now.” Fred said, laughing as he motioned to the large tent in the man’s pants. George gave him a low five, joining him in his laughter as Neville glared at them all. Who were they to make him feel embarrassed? Standing up he adjusted the tent in his pants but despite his efforts, his dick was still prominent through his slacks.

“Poor (Y/n). She’s not gonna live to see another day after that thi-”

“Would you lot quit it?! When the fuck are we landing?” Neville growled at the bunch, causing the laughter to cease. Everyone knew what it was like to deal with an enraged Neville and that was the last thing they wanted. If the plane hadn't already landed, he’d shoot it right out the sky.

“We’ve actually just landed, boss. I was going to tell you before this little…situation that just occurred. Your bags have already been brought to the villa to ensure we have maximum time to scope out the museum.” Harrison said, giving the man a nod. He hummed, giving him a nod. “In the meantime, the city is yours to roam girls. We’ll be sending two men with you for your safety.” he snapped his fingers and two tall men appeared, their scary appearance paired with “tourist” clothing. What was supposed to be a disguise was just a funny sight of two muscle heads in brightly colored floral shirts. The (h/c) haired girl walked over to the leader, tugging on his sleeve some. He looked down at her, face softening at the pout on her face.

“Will we be able to spend some time together eventually? I know this is technically a work trip for you but I-I’d really like to spend time with you.” she said, making his heart melt. She never failed to make his heart burst, unreasonably cute without even trying. He had already planned on making time for her but now it wasn’t just something on his list, but his main priority. Stroking her cheek gently he put a soft kiss on her forehead.

“ ‘Course petal. In the meantime,” he leaned down sucking on the skin below her ear as he let out a chuckle, “Why don’t you go buy yourself something pretty for me?” her eyes widened but she nodded regardless, looking at him with a shocked expression as he pulled away. Before she could respond Twyla began to drag her, yanking her down the stairs of the jet.

“Come on babes! We’ve got some shopping to do.”

--------------------------------------

“Was it really necessary to send them with us?” (Y/n) whispered, looking over her shoulder at the two large men that had been following them from a distance. “I mean, everyone’s looking!” she hissed, pointing to a group of people that were pointing and whispering to them. Twyla shrugged, a subtle skip to her walk.

“Just means we look important! You worry too much, babes. We’re on an expense paid trip to Italy and we don’t have to pay for any of these clothes? There could literally be an angry mob after us and that still wouldn’t kill my mood!” she sighed, still noticing the girl’s tense mood. “Plus, Neville would want you to enjoy yourself. Speaking of him…” she grabbed the girl’s hand, walking into the lingerie store on the left. She looked at her confused.

“Why are we here? Nev already bought me underwear.” she asked, following Twyla as she began to grab different sets off the racks. Another layer of confusion was added on when she noticed that she wasn’t grabbing her own size. Twyla let out a snort, throwing the small pile that she had somehow amassed into her arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re telling me after today’s little ordeal that you haven’t noticed? Your hottie has definitely been thinking of banging your brains out.” she said, giggling at the girl’s bashful expression. “I’m only telling the truth! And judging by your reactions, you’ve been thinking about it too.” she pondered her words for a moment. It wasn’t not not true. She most certainly had thought about Neville in more unsavory ways. Even before their reuniting, (Y/n) always thought about him as she attempted to get herself off, imagining they were his hands touching her bringing her to a well deserved climax. However anytime she’d get close, she’d become overwhelmed with the thought that what she had been doing was shameful. Masturbating to her old crush from school? What could be more dirty?

“I-I guess I have thought about it once or twice..” she admitted. “B-but I don’t have the balls to just walk out in something like this! What if he laughs at me?” Twyla gawked at the girl, blinking repeatedly. She could not believe her ears.

“Are you kidding me?! The only sound that will be leaving that man’s mouth is the sound of him telling you to get on your knees.” she responded, turning back around to look through the racks for more. “Plus, it’s not like you have to pounce on the man. All I’m saying is wait for the right time, maybe after a nice dinner or something then boom, whip out the goods. You’ve got everything to gain and nothing to lose. If that’s all then let’s check out then go get massages! I’m making you pamper yourself this trip. Merlin knows you need a break.”

(Y/n) was thankful for Twyla’s pep talk knowing the blonde was right. Neville would like anything she did; it was just a matter of when she should do it.

---------------------------------------

And pampering they had done. (Y/n) and Twyla had been to just about every ritzy spot Italy had to offer them. After their shopping trip, the taller girl had taken them to get massages. It was funny how the masseuse instantly knew it was her first time from the abundance of knots in her back and when the man was done? She was most certainly an inch taller! They also had gone for manicures (despite having done that a few days ago..). Being bold she decided to get a set out of her comfort zone which she was beyond satisfied with. But the hot Italian sun combined with all the running around had tired her out, resulting in the driver bringing them to the villa.

The villa wasn’t as big as Neville’s second manor but was still insanely big. After the bodyguard had carried her bags to her room for her, she climbed into the brand new silk robe she had gotten, laying on the bed drinking the smoothie the maid had gotten for her. It was nice, just being able to relax. Throughout her years of working, (Y/n) rarely took off days. A lot of the time she’d even cover shifts for employees that couldn’t make it and even when the bakery was closed she would come in, fixing things up and tidying up mindlessly. Numerous times Twyla had caught the girl there when she wasn’t supposed to be and forced her to go home out of concern for her health.

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of the bedroom door opening, widening with enthusiasm as she saw the tattooed man in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Hopping up she ran over to him, jumping into his arms which he gladly accepted, holding her tightly. “I missed you.”

He smiled, setting the flowers down to hold her better before placing a soft peck to her lips. “I missed you too, love. I left early so I could spend some time with you.” his eyes moved to the bags in the corner of the room, chuckling at the large pile. “I’m guessing your shopping trip was successful?” she felt her face heat up at his lack of knowledge of the lingerie that lay within one of them.

“I guess you could say that. Come, come! I wanna relax with you.” she began dragging him over to the bed, straddling him once he was situated. They sat in a comfortable silence with Neville holding the girl close to his chest, just appreciating the closeness he had with her. Since they’re reunion, every intimate moment, be it sexual or not, had been interrupted by some instance where he was needed somewhere else. He hadn’t been able to spend nearly as much time as he wanted with her but now he had her all to himself. His hands rubbed at her back gently until he got bored, deciding to test the waters. He knew it’d take a while before they’d get anywhere near what happened in his dream but he was willing to wait. He’d do anything to be able to touch her, feel her in a way that was less than innocent. As he gripped at her ass with one hand he brought the other one up to her cheek, cupping it as he pulled her into a deep and sensual kiss.

She gladly accepted, kissing back as she brought herself closer to him, playing with the bits of loose hair at the base of his neck. He began to nibble on her lip before pulling away, trailing open mouthed kisses down her neck. A mewl sounded from her, causing him to pull away slowly. Gripping at her waist above her robe, he gazed into her eyes intently. “You wearin’ anything under here?” he asked, watching as she looked down, shaking her head. “No? God you’re making it so hard for me to not just fuck you right here.” he sighed some, reaching for the ties on her robe. He stopped, looking at her once more for confirmation. She nodded frantically before stopping, feeling slightly embarrassed from how eager she was. With one soft tug, her robe was undone revealing her soft supple breast which he instantly went for. With his lips wrapped around one he began to lick and suck at the other, both of them moaning in unison. After a while of him teasing her sensitive nubs she began to grow impatient, rocking her hips against his gently as she let out a soft whimper.

“P-please..” she moaned breathlessly, not too sure of what she wanted. All she knew was that she wanted something, anything. Everything he did had her near her edge, from his kisses to his tongue and she needed to feel more. Pulling away he looked at her, thinking for a moment before pulling the two of them up.

“I wanna try something,” he said, positioning in front of the mirror. “He pushed back the fabric of her robe, putting her pussy on full display. His pants tightened at the sight of her glistening folds which she avoided in the mirror. Neville gripped her chin gently, positioning it to look at her bits in the mirror, chuckling at her wide eyes, pupils fully blown with arousal. With his other hand, he began to massage up and down her thighs. He watched as her legs grew weak, shaking with anticipation. Trailing his fingers near her sex, tracing small patterns on the inside of her thighs. 

He patted the side of her cheek with two fingers, pulling her attention away from herself to make eye contact with him through the glass. “Open up.” he whispered, small praises of approval leaving his mouth as she did. He took his thick digits, slowly pushing past her kiss stung lips. His eyes watched in the mirror as they entered her wet little mouth, groaning at the feeling of her soft tongue gliding along the underside of them. Pushing them a little further, she gagged, eyes tearing up. She looked so pretty with tears in her eyes, already fucked out before he had even put them in. It was hard to tell who wanted it more at this point but as Neville finally slid a finger into her folds, it was obvious. Hot tears fell down her face, already overwhelmed from it all. Pumping his finger in and out, his eyes flickered between her fucked out face and her pussy, juices already coating her thighs. Moving his face to her neck, he began to suck and kiss on her neck.

(Y/n) was becoming more and more desperate by the moment. She had subconsciously begun to play with her tits, rubbing and tugging on her nipples. “M-more, Nev please!” she begged to which he instantly complied, sliding another finger in. He began to work her open more, scissoring and stretching his fingers inside of her. Once her muscle had relaxed once again, he began to speed up his moment, the heel of his palm creating a slapping noise each time it’d meet her pussy.

“Merlin, baby, you’re soaked. Your messy little cunt’s just eating my fingers.” he purred out, chuckling deeply as he felt her clench at his words. Who knew his pretty little princess would get worked up so easily, slowly reaching her peak just from a few fingers and words? He used his other hand to rub at her clit, causing her knees to buckle, falling back onto him for support. He loved how much she relied on him, becoming a needy mess just for him. He curled his fingers up, aiming for her spot until he found it causing her to let out a loud cry, gripping onto his arm tightly. Neville watched as her face scrunched up, tears streaming down her face.

“N-need to….need ta….O-oh god Nev! I’m gonna-” before she could finish her eyes widened before snapping close, head falling back onto his shoulder as she rutted her hips against his fingers, whimpering as she rode out her high. He continued to rub at her clit, fingering her cunt until she began to whine, pushing him away. He smirked some, admiring her fucked out expression in the mirror. Her eyes were shut, pants  puffy lips. He licked his lips at the sight of her cunt, sensitive and fucked out, messy and cum covered from her orgasm. As he pulled his fingers out, he had to stop himself from letting out a string of curses at the way her cream began to run hot down her legs along with the bit that had gathered on his fingers. Lifting them to his face he wasted no time, sucking and licking on them. He moaned softly, continuing to clean them thoroughly, not stopping until the only thing that remained was the salty taste of his own flesh.

“You look so pretty when you cum, flower.” he muttered, smiling as the girl just let out a soft ‘mhm’, half asleep and barely able to process his words. He took off her robe, lifting her up as he began to carry her to their private bathroom, letting out a content sigh at the events that had just happened. Although he hadn’t been able to get off himself, he was more than happy being able to just please her. 

Afterall, it was what he wanted more than anything, to have his flower live in absolute happiness and pleasure.

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[quirklessidiot]

Title: filthy rich [3/3]  Pairing: millionaire!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mystery, major angst ahead, thriller, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: Just run, Y/N. Don’t look back.

Warnings: dark and yandere themes, toxic relationships, mentions of violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, smoll breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, mentions of abortion, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard 

Notes: 

Im disappering again for a week or two so as a parting gift, here ya go, im starting a bokuto fanfic soon and posting the reboot of notice me soon too hnnng thanks for the wait guys uwu

A sorta realistic take on a yandere is harder than it looks kssjdn omg anyways here yall go the long awaited last chapter of filthy rich. I’m not sure if I should put like a one shot sequel but so far im marking this series completed. Thanks for sticking by!

previous || series masterlist || blood son [sequel;one shot]

You run your hands through your hair and shut your eyes tight, the quietness and stillness of your shared apartment was something to bask on before you put on a fake mask of happiness. It had been exactly two months since you found out about the birth control switch and the medaide agenda. 

In the span of those two months, you had grown more observant towards your boyfriend’s actions and you knew that it wouldn’t be anytime soon until he actually notices that you were onto him. 

You let out a shaky breath as you recollected some weird things you’ve seem to have noticed, how his brows would furrow when he’d receive a call indicating that something was up and it was serious or how you visited your ex-boss one time a week or so ago along with Kenjiro since you wanted to see how he was doing.

“...Well, he just didn’t come home and sold the place. Apparently he was in a rush to move or something because of family matters so I didn’t exactly see him.” the neighbor gossiped to you two.

“Y/N?”

You jump on your spot as you hear that dreadfully familiar voice.

“Hey,” You greet, walking up to him, you decide to do your usual hug but stop when you notice a small red stain on his necktie, the tie is dark blue and although it wasn’t obvious from afar, it definitely was up close. Your brows are furrowed together, this time in pure curiosity, “Did you get hurt? It’s unlike you to get messy.”

You notice the quick shift of attitude in his eyes, you were seemingly getting good at observing his emotions these days and it looked like he panicked for a second there.

Odd.

“A friend of mine had gotten hurt a while ago, you remember Atsumu Miya?”

A vivid image of a blonde man crossed your mind, he was another conglomerate friend of your boyfriend, another person to be weary of to add to the list, “Oh, is he alright?” you asked, trying to keep it casual as you untie his tie for him as usual.

“Yes. He’s awfully clumsy. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh…” You mumbled, “by the way, I visited my ex-chief.”

“Ex-chief?”

“Mhm.” you hummed, “You know, my boss from before? Me and a few co-workers decided to visit him since he was a really good boss. Turns out he just left without telling anyone, poor man.”

“Sounds unpleasant. Did you know why he quit?”

“No.” You shrugged as you take the tie out and place it on the side, “He suddenly just quit his job and moved, neighbors said it was also because of family matters. It’s kinda weird because as far as we knew, he didn’t have a family.”

“Would you like me to look into it?”

You almost stiffen when he slithers his arms on your waist but you didn’t want to give away any suspicion, “No. I don’t want to pry. Hopefully he’s enjoying his retirement.” You sighed, turning towards him with a tight smile, “Now what would you like for dinner? I was thinking Mediterranean? I need to lose some weight since I’ve been feeling bloated for a while.”

He leans in for a soft kiss on your temple, “Mediterranean would be fine. Would you like anything else? We could order more.” he hummed, his lips slowly started to dangerously hover on top of yours.

“No, it’s fine.” You give him a quick peck and wiggle your way out of his arms, your stomach doesn’t feel well these days. Whenever you were near Sakusa you had the urge to throw up your innards despite having an empty stomach.

You don’t notice the dangerous gaze on your behind as you pick up the phone for your take-out.

Sakusa hasn’t felt you in a long time and it’s driving him insane, he wants to feel your heat, your body, and everything in between. He wants to fill you up and see you pregnant with his children. He wants everyone in the world to know you were his and his only.

Yet he can’t do that.

You’ve ignored his affections these past few weeks and it had been driving him insane to the point where he had to ask one of his men to put an eye on you to see if you had been cheating on him or seeing someone else.

Yet you hadn’t.

Your routine was the same old one and Sakusa is digging his nails deeply into his skin in his office one day with his tie uncharacteristically untied. Miya Atsumu sits across him, taking a sip from his flask, “Ya look like shit.” the blonde points out.

“Fuck off, Miya.”

“Heard from your cousin that you’re not getting laid by your girl these days.”

“You better be thankful that you’ve got men behind you or I’d be shooting your fucking brains out for saying that.” Sakusa spats, his dark gaze pointedly looking at the blonde across him.

“You should just find someone else then and not yer prude of a-”

“Keep telling me ideas like that and maybe I might just shoot you and chop your body up until it looks fuckin’ unrecognizable.”

Atsumu raises his hands up, signaling that he was giving up, “Gee, omi-omi. I was just giving my advise. It’s so easy to drop her.”

“I don’t want to drop what’s mine.”

“You’ve got issues.” He chuckles, “Haven’t you been switching out her pills and fucking her raw for the last couple of months? I bet yer ass you got her pregnant on that before but ya just don’t know it. Getting her pregnant would definitely secure her spot in her life. Woman’s nuthin’ without ya.”

“She’s...she’s not showing…”

“When was the last time ya two went at it?”

“Two months ago.”

“Ya poor boy.” Atsumu sighs, shaking his head, “Ya sure you don’t want to take a break from being a loyal boyfriend for one night? i bet Y/N wouldn’t notice.”

“And no one would notice if you fucking disappeared. I’ll make sure of it, now get out.”

You may not have been the sharpest tool on the shed but you know that someone’s been tailing you these past few days, you’re not stupid. You could only come to the conclusion that it was Sakusa who was doing such things but you couldn’t get why.

Something just didn’t make sense. It felt like you were missing an important piece in the puzzle, med-aide and the switch of your pills and now a hidden tail?

You furrow your brows together in deep thought  as you sat down next to a teenage boy on his phone, you decided to take the bus today to the grocery store, surprisingly the one tailing you wasn’t around today.

Your eyes slowly shift towards the boy’s phone, it seemed like he was playing a video game.

An otome game, to be exact.

You felt your lips twitch up, you remembered those games a lot growing up. The graphics seem to have massively improved now by the looks of it, “...That looks interesting.” You tell the teenage boy who turns to you in surprise.

“Oh, thanks.” the blonde replied quietly.

“Is that a new otome game?”

“Kind of.” He blinks, his gaze returning back to the screen,  “It’s sort of a remake of the yandere simulator from back then.”

You feel your shoulders tense up.

“A yandere?”

“Yeah.” The blonde nods, “The girl’s awfully creepy in the game, she stalks him, does things to get him. The player has to catch her in the act and evade her at the same time.”

“Oh…” You blink, “I-uh, this is weird… but what’s a yandere again?’

“It’s someone obsessively in love with you. They’ll do anything to have you stay by them.” He says, pushing on a button but suddenly the screen turns red and you feel shivers run down your spine as you hear him curse and the words ‘you’re caught’ appear on the screen.

“W-what happened to your character?”

“He died. Nothing much.” he mumbles, “If the Yandere knows they can’t have you, they’ll kill you.”

You immediately went pale as soon as you heard that. Maybe, just maybe you were being paranoid. He wouldn’t go to that extent, would he?

“How did your character escape the yandere in the game?” 

“Well, I haven’t finished the game yet but based on some anime’s and manga’s I've usually read. They either killed to get away or they moved so far away where they wouldn’t be seen so I think the creator might have the same ending.” The blonde said, he slowly looked to your side, “You’re looking awfully pale, ma’am. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, j-just remembered a horrible game I played back when I was your age.” You gulped in, “Nightmares, you know? The yandere tried to get my character pregnant and tried to get in her way of moving out of the country.”

“Sounds like a very realistic one.”  He mumbles, “What did your character do?”

“I wasn’t able to finish it.” you whispered, loud enough for him to only hear, “I couldn’t really find a way out.”

“The developers of the game must’ve made it hard for you. Maybe your character should’ve ran away,” he advised, “Or better yet, you should’ve killed him.”

“I-well, I don't think there were options like that.”

“Well if I were you and there was no option for killing, I’d run. Far, far away. Change my identity and all that.” he exits the game and stuffs the phone back in his pocket, you get a good look of his cat-like eyes and immediately feel a shiver on your spine with the next words he say, “I mean its a game but you wouldn’t wanna loose and get your character killed, right?”

“R-right.”

The teenage boy hops down without even saying goodbye and you have a scary realization that you can’t break it off like you originally had planned. You needed to run, run far as you can and get lost.

The words that the teenage boy says echoes in your head for the next few days, from that point on, realization dawns upon you that, nothing is certain now. You couldn’t trust anyone, you couldn’t let friends and family be involved in this. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a powerful man so you needed to be careful with how you were going to disappear.

You continue to act nonchalant and the same as you try to lay out your plan but you knew that you had only a week or so to complete this for it to successfully work.

Sakusa Kiyoomi wonders what he should do to save the relationship, he’s tried everything in the book that he could think of but you remained the same. Was this the end of the relationship? For real?

He could never stomach the idea of having you leave him.

It’s eerie that day, something felt different when he came home to an empty apartment. It looked the same yet something felt very, very different. Apparently the apartment guards said you were here since your car hadn’t left the driveway and they hadn’t seen you go out.

He checks out your side of the closet, your clothes remain there untouched and your toiletries were there too. He scans the fridge for your notes but nothing is stuck there. He suddenly feels like something cold was dumped on him.

It couldn’t be, right?

Right?

He runs to every room, checking every nook and cranny and when he finally reaches the last room which was the bathroom, nothing is there.

Everything was in its place except you.

Where were you?

Your bank account remains untouched, your wallet and phone was left in the apartment. It was as if you were returning home, the very least. Komori tells him to calm down, saying that they’re letting the best people find you around the city, they don’t rule out that someone might’ve had the audacity to touch you.

Whoever took you would be given hell to pay, that’s for sure. Was it the triad? Kkangpae’s? Or opposing yakuza’s? Oh, they’ll definitely have their heads on the platter if they tried to harm a single hair on your head.

Sakusa doesn’t even hesitate to notify the police about you already despite the memorandum that twenty-four hours is needed to consider a person missing, it's nothing a little money can fix.

“I hope we find her soon.” Your aunt sighed, “I’ve notified her parents about it. It’s definitely weird that she’d leave all her valuables behind.”

Hinata and Natsu sit there next to their mom, completely sad and worried, “I’ve hired the best people for it already, obaasan. We’ll find Y/N.” Sakusa replies yet his thoughts are in a complete frenzy now.

And find you they did.

No stone was left unturned. He made sure of it. Yet after a month of relentless searching. Nothing came up, it seemed like you had just vanished and Sakusa Kiyoomi had turned the whole underground world upside down for you but nothing came up.

Some say that you disappeared and ran away but that was immediately ruled out, no security cameras saw you in and out during that day and it would be impossible for you to just leave without security cameras on you. The guard had exclaimed that despite the blackout that day, the generators only took a few minutes to power up so they’d definitely catch you on camera in case you ever exited the building (along with the guards since they knew exactly what you looked liked) plus the clothes and such were still there, left untouched.

Some said you died, it was definitely impossible for you to just vanish without a single trace after all since everyone was looking for you.

Yet no one dared to say it in front of the boss, not if they valued their life.

The billionaire had dried out his connections to find you. What good was it to be the most powerful and richest man in the country if he couldn’t find you? Life had no meaning now, you were gone. It felt like a part of him was ceasing to function.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a dead man walking now.

Unknown to the whole world, you’re in a small town with little to no signal. Your hair is chopped unevenly and your skin is darker from the repeated exposure under the sun, your life is simple and mundane now yet you’re happy.

For the first time in months, you actually felt free.

You shut your eyes tight, the events that transpired this past few months replayed  in your head. Your escape was definitely done as carefully as you can and you didn’t even know if you’d succeed since you weren’t a master in that sort of thing.

You recalled that it was a week before you ran away, a few days after you met that kid in the bus. Someone from the electric company had come to inform you that there was a scheduled black out in the city that day during the afternoon and you felt something bubble up in you. That was the day you’d put your plan into motion.

You knew that the longer you delayed your plan, the harder it would be to escape.

You had a few minutes to actually put your plan to work. The camera’s on the hallways would cease to function for a few minutes according to the guard downstairs as he did a protocol on the building (apparently the generators were quick). So that morning after Sakusa left, you placed only a few clothes and the stash of money you had been carefully hiding in a garbage bag and chopped your hair short in an uneven manner. Burning all the remaining hair on the fireplace and the black hair color that you use with it. The maid uniform that you stole on your floor and a fake name plate that you made was on and you were good to go.

The minute the black out started, you took the garbage bag and walked out. Taking the stairway used by the caretakers, you made sure to just look down and never directly up at the camera’s pretending to work.

When you finally made it out of your building. You let out a stiff sigh and put down the bag, it was only the beginning. If you thought the same way as Sakusa Kiyoomi, you could only imagine that you needed to be more careful from this point on.

You take the newly bought duffel bag that you strategically hid behind some boxes. Thankfully when you had placed it yesterday afternoon, it hadn’t been touched. 

You put on a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt with cheap shades and stuffed the maid uniform in the duffel bag along with your belongings in the garbage bag. You take the other route that led to the busy streets. It was easy to look like a tourist and seemingly blend in the crowd, from that point on, you only had one destination in mind.

When you were younger, you vividly remember an acquaintance telling you about this small town outside of Tokyo where her grandparents were from. It was only an hour away via plane and when you went down another few hours via bus yet if you took the bus route all in all, it would take a few days.

Since it was far, only a few busses actually went there and since you had to leave within the day, you decided to just take the bus nearest to that town and take another bus when you arrived there.

The plan smooth-sailed from that point on.

Except for one minor detail.

You open your eyes and look down at your now small bump. The monster who almost had you trapped left a parting gift, you grip your garden hoe tightly.

A big part of you wanted to kill it.

Yet every time you try to, you hesitate.

The moment you arrived here, you had to pretend to be a weary and poor widow. You just didn’t expect to be a weary and poor expecting widow. You let out an uncharted sigh at the thought, it was hard enough to be alone here with little to no money. 

This child had the demon’s blood in it.

Yes, you may have gone free from his cage but in truth with his seed growing in your stomach day by day, you started to feel quite the opposite.

taglist [thanks for your support ilyasm skkss im so sorry for updating late too :(]

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[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

[things-happens]

In Memory

Levi Ackerman x gn! Reader

Armin Arlert x gn! Reader

Erwin Smith x gn! Reader

Mikasa Ackerman x gn! Reader

hola 😎 i have a request for ya! which i do hope you like cause I literally spent hALF aN hoUR thinking of how it should go... anyWAYS, i’m gonna request it rn cause why not? .. anyways—maybe a hc for Levi, Armin, Erwin, Mikasa, and Pieck; their S/O’s favorite memories with them are playing in their mind. They wished it happened again. people thought they (they = pieck, levi, armin - yk)—people thought they went crazy. out of their mind insane. They do often smile, when they hear their S/O’s laugh. They cry when they hear their S/O’s screams. They couldn’t save them in time. they were now dead. // now do keep in mind, that this all happened weeks after their S/O’s death. they felt so useless at the fact that they couldn’t save them in time. the one they loved the most...

Note: I DELETED THIS AND HAD TO MADE THE POST so... please like and share thank you. Also I'm not caught up on season 4 but I know what has happened so I don't know Pieck's personality, I didn't want to get her wrong.

Prompt List

Mastlister

Summary: their s/o passed, they blame themselves and other and sadly cannot cope.

Warnings: Death, Blood, Feels and Fluff Words: a lot just a lot

Levi Ackerman (Sadderdaze)

Somethings never change for Levi losing the ones he loves left and right but why did he think that would change with y/n.

During the Battle of Shiganshina, Y/n was by Levi’s side the whole time.

They always was anyways, the lone survivor of Levi’s Squad after the 57th Expansion. Years ago, they vowed the loyalty for him then again 3 years later, till death did them part.

They both lead the group of soldiers to eliminate the Beast Titan.

As the Beast began to throw rocks everyone took covered in an abandoned town, after the first-round y/n and Levi resurfaced on the roofs.

They both noticed the beast was readying for another throw, yelling for the other to go bad into cover.

“GO BACK!” Y/N yelled into their cupped hands; they still couldn’t hear them.

Levi started to run to help them, only to be held back, y/n telling him there isn’t enough time.

Levi protested only for Y/n starting to push him back down to between the houses.

Suddenly, Y/n gave him a hard push on his back making him lad down on the ground. Looking back up to his love, their leg of in a now, missing part of the roof.

Levi quickly shot back up to help them out, grabbing their hands pulling as hard as he could.

“Levi… LEVI! Please take cover, you’ll die.”

“I’m not leaving you behind… not again.”

Levi had left Y/n in charge of his squad as he joined Erwin in the 57th Expansion. Nearly dying because of the Female Titan and protecting Eren.

Y/n pulled their arm away from him, giving him one final hard push in the chest right before the rock came pass them.

“I love you” they whispered.

As Levi flew back to the ground, he held eye contact with them all of his memories going through his head, knowing that this was the last time he would see of them, forever.

As for y/n, all their memories flew through them.

Late nights with Hanjie, mornings drinking tea with Erwin and Levi.

Levi… the night of their wedding, cake, slow dancing together, then stargazing. Oh, what they’d give to do that one more time with him.

Then they were gone.

Days later, everyone was concerned about the Captain. They could hear his cries and sobs when they’d pass his room. If you’d knocked, his cries would stop, and he’d stay silent till he watched your feet leave.

Every time Hanjie would open his door to bring breakfast or dinner, they could see the hopefulness in his eyes only for them to fall. Not like he ate till he was starving and knew he had too.

Years later, as Levi slept at night, he could still hear the whisper and cries of his love. That’s all he could hear ever, yet now he hid it well.

The nights he couldn’t sleep he’d walk through the halls of the fallen soldiers. In the middle of all the paintings, was Erwin. A gold frame shining in the moon light. Next to him was y/n.

They also had a golden frame and at the top were their favorite floor in their favorite color. Whomever painted it, Levi thought they did an amazing job.

The captured the brightness of their eyes, their gloss on their hair and the perfection on their hands.

Levi sat on his knees, lightly placing his hand on theirs. Wishing he could feel them just one more time.

BONUS:

“I bet you’re not popular with the ladies…” Zeke sighed.

Levi looked down thinking about y/n for the first time since the battle. “I was popular enough…”

Armin Arlert (When Will I See You Again)

Most people admired Y/n relationship with Armin, never put a title on side thing but the two and others knew they loved each other.

And when y/n died… well it was hard on everyone.

Since Armin inherited the Colossal Titian he saw and heard y/n die with his own eyes or really with Bertholdt eyes.

They stood by Armin till the very end or what they thought was the end.

The two stood in front of the giant titan, directing him. The plan… they knew they were going to die but it was with Armin and that’s all y/n would ever want.

Bertholdt let out the burning steam, burning them alive. y/n’s eyes looked at Armin, they screamed and cried till nothing… black.

Armin on the other head was giving the Titan Serum, eating Bertholdt and becoming the monsters he hated.

From the second he woke from the shift, all he could thing of was Y/n.

Where are they?

Are they okay?

Then and dare he say naturally, the memories caved in.

Seeing through his predecessor’s eyes, he remembered his love burn to death. Hearing their caries and he saw them always looking at him.

He cried and blamed himself for their death, y/n thought they were dying together but Eren couldn’t let him live in peace.

“they died thinking they were with me.” He whispered.

He always tired to keep his resentment in around Eren and Mikasa, but everyone could here him scream in pain in the forest next to the HQ.

He used Bertholdt’s memories to see them together all the time, Sasha and Mikasa would become worried he wasn’t grieving well but soon like screams every night stop.

Instead, it was quite crying at night, which wasn’t any better for anyone.

Then they left to find the Sea, one thing that could make Armin come to peace with himself.

Reaching the ocean everyone would play and have fun their but looking down in the water, Armin could’ve sworn he saw his love looking back at him but alas he lost the sight as fast as he saw it.

He knew Y/n would and still is by his side everyday till death brought them back to each other.

Erwin Smith (My Kind of Woman)

Everyone knew Erwin as a very stoic man, a calm gentle giant but with a heart and will of Iron.

And that was true, but that was after someone not one would talk about.

Their name is Y/n, Erwin Smith’s great love.

In 845, the Survey Corps returned from an expiation, but most do not know what happened.

“Four abnormals on the right wing!” some one shouted

Erwin looked at y/n who was smiling but still looking out for themselves and others. They looked over at Erwin and smiled even wilder.

Ever since training, Y/n saw bright side of things. It was their idea to recruit the Underground rebels.

In all most a flash of lighting, rain pored down soldiers dying all around.

10 abnormals flailing around, killing and eating people.

Erwin stared behind him, watching his comrades die under his orders. Then he locked eyes with y/n as they jumped off their horse as a Titan waved its arm at her.

“Erwin!”

Y/n yelled hoping he would turn and help them, and he did, yet despite the connection they had…

It was too late, they were harshly picked and swished, screams reaching everyone’s ears. Held above the Titan’s mouth their blood poured into then as the life quickly left their eyes they were dropped into its mouth.

If it wasn’t for Levi, Erwin would’ve been died too.

Ever second since then he blamed himself, knowing if he was just a little faster.

He paid someone to make a painting of her for his office, they were his right-hand person, but others knew it was more than that.

He would cry as quite as he could for years till it was small smiles or few tears while in his office or drinking tea with Levi or Hanji.

They both learned not to question it as it was a normal thing for the man after five years.

The new recruits would ask about the painting of a random person in his office, he would say someone special.

Yet it’s been years he would still become choked up that night.

Mikasa Ackerman (i wanna be your girlfriend)

Mikasa and Y/n met in training, two people how just sat not needing to say anything to enjoy each other’s company.

Eating dinner, they’d just sit and watch everyone else bicker and talk, nothing needed to be said. Despite being Sasha’s sibling, the older one seem to get all the personality then again there was nothing wrong with the way they were.

Although being close to death of a many of times, they lived and slightly loved Mikasa and watched her grow into a beautiful women she was.

Over the years, y/n become more vocal not wanting to miss out on the moments they had left with everyone. They and Jean would bicker and laugh about dumb things, Connie and they would just sitting and reminisce on old times.

Then Sasha met Nicolo and well y/n had never more vocal about anything before.

“Oooooh the cook, he’s perfect for you.”

y/n would tease Sasha along with Jean and Connie, although Nicolo didn’t seem to mind, Sasha would turn redder than a beet!

Then the war came, Y/n didn’t leave Mikasa side unless it was to save their ether extremely brave or stupid sister.

As y/n and Mikasa run to Eren’s ad after killing the War Hammer Titan, Mikasa yells at Eren.

Y/n watches the two argue, as the War Hammer Titan stands tall and definitely not dead.

Y/n watches as it starts to shoot a crystal goop at them, Y/n wipps around slamming themselves into Mikasa, holding onto her and they both flay away from the now hardened crystal.

“thank you, y/n.”

Y/n only nodded, looking back at the crystal. Again, they themselves in danger for Mikasa but they knew if it came down to it, they would die for their family.

After the battle, everyone was on the air ship, Mikasa had left y/n with Jean, Connie and Sasha. They talked happy to see each other alive.

“You guys are really special to me.”

Next thing anyone knew, both Jean and Y/n heard rumbling from the entrance. Turning around they saw a little girl with a rifle.

y/n quickly realized she was aiming for everyone of the ship, mainly their sister. Running in front of the fire, trying to do the same thing they once saw Hanjie do years ago still the girl shot.

The bullet went straight threw y/n’s stomach; push through the pain they grabbed the gun from the girl. They butted it into the little girl’s head, knocking her out.

The adrenaline wore off, y/n put their hand on their stomach. Their hand covered in blood, they turned around to see their sister on the floor surrounded by their friends.

“Guys…” they dropped the rifle on the floor.

The word came out their mouth, everyone with tears in their eyes slowly turned to look at them.

Jean watched as the blood dripped from their suit on to the light brown flooring.

Y/n began to walk to them, waddling side to side.

Mikasa entered the room watching Y/n fall over into what was now a pool of blood. She quickly ran over, flipping them over sobbing.

Jean quickly applied pressure into the wound, but it was too late. Y/n looked up at Mikasa, their bloodied hand lightly touching her face.

Mikasa sat head on her knees, in between both Blouse graves. She could still here the raspy breaths, the yells of Jean telling them to stay awake and the laugh Eren let out seeing the dead bodies.

She’d cry at nights realizing she loved them more than a friend, she felt like a piece of her was now gone.

During dinners Mikasa would push her food around till she couldn’t sit and not laugh or sob. Armin had become worried of her, but he knew she just needed time.

[hekatekun]

The metanarrative’s grand narrative: Osomatsu-san’s characterization throughout the franchise

The growing cynicism throughout the entire Osomatsu-san franchise shows itself in season 3 with more prominence than anything prior. I think that’s pretty common amongst any “long-running” gag comedy - replacing a plot with spiteful commentary that’s admittedly pretty hit or miss at times. However, it invariably creates a negative but pretty funny character growth, and I love the way the show (I’m including the movie too as “canon” material considering season 3 has referenced it way too many times for me to disregard) has set up this metanarrative across seasons. Long post ahead.

Obviously, Osomatsu-san is self-aware and has a casual relationship with itself. No linear plot (though S3 seems to be trying it out and I’ve enjoyed it - I love that they’re willing to experiment), rather a collection of unrelated skits; and so it points out its own metanarrative because of this “lack of consequences.” With comedy comes impermancy and Ososan AND -kun will always bounce back from that week’s insanity. From the Oxford Dictionary, a metanarrative is “a narrative account that experiments with or explores the idea of storytelling, often by drawing attention to its own artificiality.” Basically: a story about stories.

On top of this, is what I’m calling the “grand narrative,” which is often used interchangeably with metanarrative, but here I’m making a distinction to make it less confusing. Of course, Ososan is a story about stories, but with that comes a story it’s not directly telling, which is where most of the (little) character development is taking place. This is what I’m going to call the grand narrative of a show whose premise is being a meta-aware comedy. I’ll admit I’m by no means an expert on these subjects, but storytelling methods are something I enjoy trying to analyze. As a media format, Ososan really utilizes the fact that it’s a tv show.

Right off the bat S1E1 makes it clear what to expect: Nothing. Not a damn thing. But, the show had already been cleared for this first season, so it has to be produced. This same episode’s preview is done by Osomatsu, which I’m just gonna quote instead screenshot because there’s too many.

“...we plan on properly starting the anime the next episode.” “...you ended up with an extra minute, so you need me to do something to fill it?! Actually, is this anime going to be okay with episode one being like this? I’m getting worried about how the rest of this is going to be...” “There, I used up a minute! [EPISODE ENDS]”

Episode one is not only batshit referential, but downright mocking the state of anime in 2015. Which, truthfully, I don’t have much to comment on in that regard, as I’m not an avid anime fan. However, it does this under the premise of being indecisive about what kind of anime they wanted the Osokun reboot to be. 

They’ll do just about anything to stay popular and relevant considering that is, quite literally, all they have going for them as characters in the series and just being characters in general. They may be pieces of shit, but they’re likeable pieces of shit. The dynamics they’ve built upon to be entertaining is encouraged, and they’re basically just roleplaying different skits and fucking around.

All the AUs! All the skits! They’re just playing! They’re just fuckin’ around!! They couldn’t come up with any interesting plot nor could they “graduate” from being anime protagonists and join the real world, so they just fuck around and make a gag anime!

Even if we follow both as the audience, the show makes a difference between the what’s them in their “normal life” (crazy begets crazy, no?) and what’s their “show.” But, really, that’s just one way to look at it, as they don’t really follow any rules as a show. I could say the Joshimatsus are separate characters from the sextuplets, and it’d be a “correct” interpretation. It doesn’t really matter - I’m choosing to examine it all as being the six of them just running around and playing, because being entertaining and having fun is all they know as characters. Besides, having it blended together beyond recognition reinforces how it prioritizes entertaining us, the audience, above logic. Storytelling doesn’t need to make absolute spatial-temporal sense for it to be enjoyable to fans.

In any case, that mentality really seems to be what pushes their character development negative, as they look to reinforce habits and rituals despite them being really detrimental for them in the long run. They know they’re popular characters as is, and with really everyone from staff to fans encouraging this behavior further, so they see no point in fixing what isn’t really broken.

I found this 4 year old article from Manga.Tokyo discussing the Ososan phenomenon in Japan because while the craze died off pretty quickly in American anime circles (which deserves a whole other post), Japanese fans went fuckin’ nuts.

This portion caught my attention, as it makes sense that entitled and enabled asshole children would grow up to be entitled and enabled asshole adults. The article also goes on to compare them to idols (even beyond the F6 spoof) and that they are rooted in being comfort characters above all else. 

It’s worth a read, especially because Japanese fan response is what drives majority of the content post-S1, and, inevitably, ties into their character development. 

They know that they’re Characters, particularly Protagonists. You know what happens to protagonists? Everything works out. Just about every single story created has stuff working out for protagonists. In fact, we have a whole genre made that separates stories with bad tragic endings from our Normal Stories. Ososan is a comedy, not a tragedy, so surely there’s gonna be some payoff somewhere along the road, especially as the seasons and other content are still being pumped out. To a self-aware, entitled, enabled protagonist, assuming everything is just gonna work out for you isn’t that far off from your narrative truth.

However, Ososan is a gag anime, and a lot of gag content (like 4koma mangas) is dropped for other projects before any emotional cathartic ending is provided for characters and fans alike. So, three seasons and a movie later, nothing has happened. It’s a great idol cash cow with a Family Guy filter, and the characters (and writers) don’t even bother to hide it anymore. And I know I’m being hypocritical concerning my definition of “canon material” but I think this portion from one of the drama cds “Choroplex” basically summarizes my point:

CHOROMATSU: Wait, don’t make this into a gag! You don’t even care about becoming employed, right? KARAMATSU: There’s no way that could happen... CHOROMATSU: What kind of future are you imagining? Is it nothing but this? [HUGE PAUSE BEFORE THEY MOVE ONTO SOMETHING ELSE]

They’re parodies of themselves and are running out of ideas. Stagnation and decay is normal, if not unavoidable, at this point in time for them. They’re just 20 somethings who’ve hit a wall but they’re too scared and insecure to bring about permanent positive change. It’s easier for them to fall back into normal patterns and joke off the rest.

They have an antagonistic relationship with expectations. They can’t handle a single iota of expectations, or responsibilities. They’ve never needed to worry before, so why bother now? Once the biggest hits on the block, now they’re just guppies in the ocean, and there’s nothing they believe themselves to be able to accomplish to keep up with this big brave new world. This is epitomized in S3E15, where old man Osomatsu tells a bastardized version of the Tortoise and the Hare, blatantly projecting his feelings onto it. Again, too many screenshots so let me pull more quotes (bolding for my own reference):

“The place that the tortoise thought was the goal was not actually the goal. His journey down the road of life still continued on. The tortoise was quite tired, but he continued running anyway.” “No one actually knew who was in front anymore. There are too many people above you.” “After the tortoise found out how society worked, he thought, ‘So this is the difference in talent? No amount of hard work is going to fix this. All right. I’m done competing with others.’”

S3 has left more questionable endings than its counterparts. The last 2 skits I referenced don’t even a gag to them, and the marriage skit doesn’t play music for the entire second half of S3E5. There’s more involved too. I haven’t even brought up the rice ball twins becoming actual entertainers in their universe, or how they introduced this whole AI subplot only to reject it because All Six Of Them aren’t interested in expanding their little corner of the world. Here’s a transcript of the ending preview from S3E1:

“Hey, hey, Osomatsu here. I thought we were saved from being replaced, but I guess we get new characters next week. Man, we’re busy. New encounters, changing surroundings... We’re NEETs to begin with because all that is a pain. I guess a lot can happen after three seasons. [EPISODE ENDS]”

The sextuplets’ mindsets are extremely self-centered, which is also an environmental thing (the parents don’t even really care that they’re NEETs, for one) and an understanding of what they ought to be (epic successful protagonists). They also have a very black and white mentality, all or nothing. They’re extremely sheltered, and once they realized where they stood in society at large, they just gave up. To them the world is divided between winners and losers, and somehow, “inexplicably,” they found themselves to have fallen from grace. But they’re protagonists, that has to count for something! Everything’s gonna end up okay, right? Well... what this show has told them: No, not at all. They are consistently compared and warned of Iyami, and are perfectly aware of this fact, and have come to internalize it as a truth rather than a reversible self-fulfilling prophecy.

Too many screencaps, taken from the S3S5 marriage discussion:

JYUSHIMATSU: I wonder if we’re gonna get married someday, too. CHOROMATSU: Well, I mean... probably? I’m not exactly sure, but... TODOMATSU: What? You’re gonna get married, Choromatsu-niisan? CHOROMATSU: Huh? Well, yeah... someday.

Surprise! They have commitment issues! The same group that couldn’t commit to a fucking plot! Though their personality issues have several factors involved, I can’t overlook the theater motifs abound. Life’s a stage, and they’re performing entirely unscripted and it shows.

Do I think all of this is 100% intentional on the writers’ part? No, probably not. There’s also an extra layer here regarding contemporary Japanese commentary that I’m not familiar with, so I just ended up focusing on the characters. I can’t be in the writers’ heads, but whatever decisions are being made by executives regarding censorship and “compliance” are reflected in these character changes that result in being significantly more bitter and defeatist.

In the all or nothing, winner-take-all mentality, the only way to save face at this point, in their minds, is to own up to it - act like it’s what they wanted all along. And, hey, it’s funny to watch, right?

“Why is Osomatsu all my examples”, you might be asking. Well, he’s the damn blueprint for it all. The leader of the bunch, the first personality to grab your attention, has had all his issues projected and ricocheted in their echo chamber.

Ultimately, my point here is that you could think their “canon characterizations” (though canon means nothing in a show like this) as being intertwined with the nature of their self-aware existence. They’ve shown you all their tricks, the smoke and mirrors are getting boring, and they’re stalling long enough the story seems to be moving on without them - in spite of them. And when something genuinely threatens their way of life, they don’t know how to respond.

You can play it all straight, of course. Remove the meta jokes and all the same plot points can be hit, but, as a slapstick comedy, it’s able to easily add this additional layer in that I appreciate. I’ve said it in my last post and I’ll probably say it in more, but with comedy comes sincerity - the caveat of all the cartoon violence is that, on some level somewhere, this is how they really feel.