#give me that marble screw pls

[bluedogxl]

i think shiny luminous should appear in a future hirogaru sky pretty cure episode. What do you think? :)

absolutely. let nagisa and honoka take their daughter to work

in a more serious sense i think she should be there since she wasn’t there for hugtto ep 22. i wanna see her work her little magic domes and Heartiel Actions while nagisa and honoka work their punch bam boom kick slam Pretty Cure Marble Screw Max Spark

[hongism]

1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna​​: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute. 

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.”

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”

[louiseleblancdiggory]

 Once Upon a December

Chapter 2: On This Journey to the Past Home

A/N: I had such a hard time coming up with the best way to write this chapter since it’s the introduction of six characters at the same time. I hope it’s not too bad. Also, if you’re gonna ask to be tagged could you please send an ask? It’s easier for me and if I forgot to tag you, just message me. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

Despite the fear clawing its way into her mind, the deep chuckle from the cloaked man behind her soothed some of her nerves. His voice was cold and deep, even when he was laughing. And if he was laughing, it meant that they weren’t mad enough to kill her, right?

Or maybe they’re a bunch of murderers and are laughing because they’ll take their sweet time with you.

Lin didn’t raise her head from the marble floor, her body being taken by the pain of slamming against the man and then the floor. Her eyes went from one man to the next. Two of them stood a little bit behind the other three. One of them had a black cloak and the other had a white one. The white one, she realized, had been the one she saw smiling earlier. She wondered if he was smiling now, but the cloak and the shadows didn’t let her see it. The man she had decked across the face stood in front of her, his arms crossed and even with his charcoal grey coat hiding his features, she could sense the sneer on his face.

Not that she was in position to pick, but she would very much prefer dealing with the white cloaked man than this one.

The guy was flanked by two other in brown. Although, differently from their apparent leader, they didn’t bother hiding their faces. Both tan, with harsh features and tawny eyes. One was blonde, appearing to be in his late thirties or maybe even forties. The other one looked more around late twenties, his ebony hair tucked in a low pony. In any other situation, she might have found them somewhat attractive.

She didn’t dare turn around to see the one that had stopped her.

“Shouldn’t someone take that bottle from her?” The man in white asked, stepping into the light. If she hadn’t been laying down, her jaw might have dropped at the sight of his face. He could very well be the most handsome man she had ever laid her eyes upon. Flawless brown skin, dark blonde hair and black eyes, he looked like the warrior-princes in the books she read. “I mean she did manage to deck Lorcan across the face and run a fucking lot. And then there is also the pup ready to bite our ankles.”

Lorcan. The man in charcoal grey was named Lorcan.

She heard the footsteps of the man behind her before she saw him. He unhurriedly walked to her front to join his companions, and Lin finally sat up. As Lorcan, his face was hidden by his light grey cloak. She picked the dog up and stood, taking a step back.

When she fully stood the light filtering from one of the highest windows illuminated her face, and she scowled at the six men.

“Holy fuck.” The pretty one said out loud when he took a look at her face. “Holy fuck. Please tell me everyone is thinking what I am thinking.”

“Shut up, Fen.” The one in black grunted, stepping closer to Fen. Lin then realized that their faces were near identical, even though he looked like the dark side of his brother’s fair coin.

Twins then.

“Look at her face.” He was gaping. Why the hell was he gaping?

“Why the hell are you gaping?” She said before she could consider the words. She almost flinched at her own tone— being rude wouldn’t help her at all right now. But she had already spoken with confidence, so now she must continue with the facade. “And who the hell are you?”

“You’re not really in the position of asking questions right now, lady.” His twin answered before Fen could open his mouth.

“You’re not really in the position of telling me how to act, sir.” Oh she was screwed. She was so, so screwed.

The six men surveyed her, their eyes scanning her head to toe. She felt the urge to shift on her feet, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction even though she had a feeling that they all knew how her heart was pounding inside her chest.

The pretty one, Fen, decided that she passed whatever inspection because he decided to answer her earlier question despite the looks he was receiving from the other five. “I’m Fenrys. Lovely meeting you.”

Her eyes narrowed and she took another step back. Fenrys’s wolflike smile only grew wider. “And the others?” She jerked her chin to the other five, still faking confidence. She needed to run and she needed to do it before they decided they didn’t want to toy with her anymore but she knew that without another distraction, she wouldn’t run five steps before they caught her.

Surprisingly, the golden man in brown answered her question too. “Gavriel, lady.” His voice was chill and gentle, and some of her nerves calmed further. Maybe he would convince his friends to kill her quickly as a mercy. He looked at the other four men who remained silent and sighed. His next words, however, caught her by surprise. “We are very sorry for scaring you and your dog. We didn’t expect anyone else to be in the castle.”

A blink was all the surprise she showed.

Maybe they wouldn’t kill her. She almost choked in relief.

Talking to him seemed safer than the others, so she nodded. “I wasn’t planning on coming in, but the dog ran inside and I came after it.” If he was surprised she answer, he didn’t let it show. “I can leave now and I promise I will not tell anyone that I ever saw any of you.”

Fenrys laughed at that. “I have a better plan.”

At that, her entire body went visibly taunt.

“Fenrys.” The man with ebony hair in a pony growled. “Stop trying to scare the girl.”

Fenrys didn’t stop looking at her. “Am I scaring you, lady?”

“The only thing scaring me are your manners. Maybe I should have decked you across the face.” Lin raised her chin. She had survived ten years with men trying to taunt her day and night, and since his companions didn’t seem inclined to kill her, Fenrys was just an asshole trying to get a reaction. “Maybe strong enough to break your jaw. It would certainly save me from your blabbering.”

His twin’s mouth fell open before he howled. The man was almost doubling with laughter, and the other ones seemed to smile. At least the ones she could see the faces. Two of them remained unknown and it bothered her. A lot.

“The idiot laughing Connall,” the man with ebony hair said. “I’m Vaughan.”

She merely nodded to acknowledge she had heard him. Against her best judgment, her eyes went to the guy in the grey coat. Not the one she had hit, the one that seemed to be their leader, Lorcan. No, she was staring at the one who had been the one to reach her and grab her elbow. She could swear his eyes were fixated on hers as she turned to him. His attention unnerved her enough to make her reckless. “And the one watching me like a fucking buzzard would be?”

He seemed to tense, either because of her attention or her harsh tone. Probably the latter.

No one responded as if sensing the shift in the air.

“What? You grabbed me by the elbow and slammed me against the floor, I should at least know your name.”

“What’s yours?” Oh, his voice. Something inside of her jumped when hearing his voice, his accent making the words roll out of his tongue. She would have frowned at herself if she wasn’t completely focused on the man before her. Even the others seemed to be interested in their conversation.

Lin smiled. “I asked first.”

Even under the layers of his cloak, she could feel him smiling in return. “Connall was right. You’re not in the position to ask questions.”

She just stared blankly at him. Neither he or one of his companions seemed interested in breaking the silence or getting involved into their pissing match. Lin ached to remain silent, but she also knew it wouldn’t help her, at least not now.

Pick your battles wisely, Lysandra would say and then add upon seeing the look on her best friend’s face, Not all of them, Lin.

“Why don’t you at least let me see your face? After all you’ve seen mine.”

He considered. He started to slowly circle her, looking her from head to toe several times. She wanted to stay put, but there was something about him that was both alluring and infinitely annoying.

“Why are you circling me?”

He didn’t respond but, surprisingly, took a step into the light and took off his hood.

iknowyouiknowyouiknowyou

The pulsing in the back of her head came back with full strength. Her vision swayed, and she clenched her jaw in order to not pass out. When she felt slightly better, she analyzed his features. Fenrys might have been beautiful but this man was… Alluring. Handsome. Lin wanted to take a step forward and analyze his features more clearly. Wanted to see the exact shade of his green eyes, see if his hair was actually naturally silver. She wanted to clearly see every single harsh and sharp line of his face. If Fen was the fair warrior-prince, this man was the morally grey warrior that you never know if you can really trust.

He was staring at her, eyes narrowing. He took a step forward, head tilting to the side. For some reason, he seemed somewhat confused.

Maybe it was his confusion that made her say, “My name is Lin.”

He nodded, almost disappointed. “Rowan.”

“You look like the old royals.” Fenrys blurted out, making Lin’s attention snap back to him.

“Fenrys.” Vaughan and Rowan grunted at him.

“What? She does. Look at the hair and face shape. Even her eyes look like theirs.” He walked up to her and she tensed, not daring to run with him so close. He bent down, staring right into her face. She really wanted to punch him to see what he would do. “She’ll be just perfect.”

His twin brother and Gavriel groaned.

“Perfect for what?” She snapped.

“To pretend to be the lost princess, of course.”

She gawping at him, she knew. She continued until she felt laughter bubbling up her chest and let out the most dramatic cackle she could manage. Despite being alone in the world, being constantly worried about Lysandra, about money and her plans, Lin couldn’t stop laughing at what the man had suggested. She was almost doubling over, and the dog in her arms jumped to the floor. Lin knew she shouldn’t laugh at the face of six men who could very well kill her, but it was just too damn funny.

“Pretend to be what?” She said, trying to stop laughing. Fenrys scowled at her and the others watched the scene or humorously or bored. “Isn’t this the infraction of about twenty laws, one of them being treason. Which would result in the gallows?”

When he didn’t answer, she let out another chuckle. “I have a neck way too pretty to be tied in a rope, boyo. And there is the fact that I don’t know any of you, much less trust any of you. Find another idiot.”

“You wouldn’t go to the gallows.” Vaughan said, and she was shocked that some of them agreed with Fenrys. Her eyes went to Rowan, but he was just watching everything with a blank expression. Vaughan continued, “People do it all the time. You would study everything about them, about their kingdom, go to the royal family, say you are the lost princess and they decide whether or not you’re lying. Worst case scenario, they kick you to the curb.”

“And the new queen?” Why the fuck was she even entertaining the idea? She didn’t know any of these men, and she already had a mission of her own. Lysandra couldn’t wait while she pretended to be a princess.

“She wouldn’t know.” Connall smiled viciously.

“Fuck no. I have better things to do.” She said, taking a step towards the wood panel she had come from. Despite their sizes and mean demeanors, Lin now doubted they would kill her. “Places to be, people to see. Find. Another. Idiot.”

“Are ‘better things’ sitting on the rooftop of a shabby house and drink vodka?” Fenrys called after her, and her head whipped back. Not to Fenrys, no, but to Rowan. The silver flash earlier… “You.”

He gave her a feral smile.

“You followed me here.” Lin said incredulously. “Didn’t expect anyone in the castle my ass. What the hell is wrong with the six of you?”

“We need a princess.” Vaughan said simply.

“Well I’m not one so leave me alone.” She grunted and turned around again to leave. These people must have been complete lunatics if they honestly had followed her here just to make her accept pretending to be the lost princess. The lost princess that everyone knew was dead. Her coat and shoes had been found by the riverbank in the dead of the winter and no one, especially an eight year old, would survive the Florine during December. Why the Galathynius still accepted people claiming to be Aelin was beyond her.

“We would pay you.” Connall called after her and although she didn’t stop, she started walking just a little bit slower.

You do need money, you know?

Lin was going to start calling the annoying voice in her head Stupid Sense and maybe light a few candles to ask for good, old common sense.

She could get the money somewhere else. They would probably only pay her if she was accepted as the princess, and Lysandra couldn’t wait that long.

“And for your passage to Banjali.” Gavriel added.

That made her stop.

“There’s no train to Banjali. The Adarlanian roads are closed in the southern borders.” She replied quietly, still not turning around. A plan was forming in her head, but she didn’t know if the results would outweigh the dangers.

If she accepted their offer, they could pay for her train ticket to Inish. If the Adarlanian borders were closed, the only way to get to Eyllwe was through the Western Wastes. If she said her condition was to go through a route that had Inish in its way, she could be there in little over a month. But then there was the big problem: she didn’t know these men. They could be the worst kind of scum for all she knew, and traveling with all six of them would require her to be always paying attention, minding her surroundings. She would constantly need to have an escape plan. She did know how to fight, and against one of them she might even had stood a chance but all six? She would be dead before she could even draw her knife. No, with them the wisest would be to run.

Maybe that was what she was going to do once they got to Inish. She would grab Lysandra and they would sneak to the Red Desert in a boat, save some money while in Xandria and then go to the Southern Continent. During the time until Inish, she could pretend she intended in faking being princess to the old royals. The perfect plan but that could go wrong in so many ways.

“There are several routes through the Western Wastes.” Gavriel answered her earlier statement.

Fucking bingo.

She slowly turned around to look at them again. If she was going to accept this, she would need to face the risks daily. Being on her guard all the time was exhaustive and Lin really thought she was past that now that she had left the orphanage. But she also knew that it would take months for her to get all the money she needed in Orynth, and for Lysandra she would risk her life.

“I would have… conditions.”

Fenrys smiled like a wolf.

“No shared rooms. I get to keep my weapons. When we are not studying the Galathynius, neither of you speak to me because we are not friends. Or even colleagues. And, the most important, I pick the train and the route.”She crossed her arms and would have taken a more dominant stance if there wasn’t a dog sitting on her feet. “Oh, and the dog comes.”

“You got it, lady.” Fenrys said immediately.

“No, she fucking doesn’t.” Lorcan spoke for the first time since when he scared her. His voice was just as creepy. When he looked at her, she refrained from giving him a scolding glare. “Stay put. We will discuss your… conditions.” And with that the immediately formed a tight circle and spoke in hushed voices.

She rolled her eyes and knelt to take a look at the dog. Now that she wasn’t running after it or away from the group a few meters away, Lin could realize that the dog’s pelt wasn’t that dark of a golden blond as she had imagined, it was just extremely dirty. The paw had some dried blood, and as well as other spots in the pup’s body. One quick check and… yes, female. She was a lovely thing, no more than six months old and despite the dried blood and dirty, she looked pretty decent. And she also couldn’t be badly hurt considering how fast she could run.

“You and I are going on a funny field trip, Fleetfoot.” Despite her nerves, Lin smiled.

—————————————————

“Is there really anything to debate? That girl could be an Ashryver if we only considered her looks.” Fenrys whispered. 

“That girl has the manners of a demon.” Rowan replied, leaving his opinion clear in this expression. She didn’t want to do this, much less travel more than a month with that girl. 

She somehow got under his skin way too easily. It was like a more witty and smart version of Fenrys. Terrible

“Not the manners, clearly, but that can be adjusted. Again, she looks like an Ashryver.”

“And have you ever seen an Ashryver to know that?” Rowan’s voice came harsher than he intended, but his temper was slipping. He was the only one completely against this stupidity, his brothers seemed to be way too interested in the money that they could get to think clearly.

“Have you?” Fenrys snapped back, and when Rowan didn’t reply, he just went on. Fen was definitely the most excited about this. Earlier, when they were at the cathedral, he was looking outside of the window when he literally squeaked. Everyone knew of the Galathynius that had survived and now lived in Banjali with the Eyllwen royal family and how they sometimes accepted visits of people claiming to be Aelin. None ever actually was Aelin, and Fen thought that they should try their luck. Find a girl who looked like the dead princess, teach her, convince the Galathynius she was Aelin and then get fucking rich by blackmailing the poor girl.

All of them went to the window to look at the girl drinking her ass off on a roof and even Rowan had to admit that she looked like an Ashryver from afar. He didn’t even know she had also seen him until minutes ago when she looked back at him with enough wrath to make him want to take a step back.

The girl was like fucking wildfire, cursing like a sailor, hitting people with vodka bottles and inserting sarcasm in every single sentence.

“Her demands also are acceptable and expected.” Vaughan sided with Fenrys. He had been pissed earlier because he insisted that there were better ways to approach her. Connall said that it was better to have the element of surprise. Rowan just wanted to hit both of them. “She’s a girl traveling with six men, of course she wants weapons and privacy. And after you guys decided to so delicately approach her, it was obvious she wouldn’t be inclined to sit with us during afternoon tea and make friendship bracelets.”

“I didn’t know we had afternoon tea.”

“Connall, for the love of the gods, be quiet.” Gavriel said, giving one of the twins a slap on the back of his head.

As they kept bickering, Rowan let his gaze fall upon the girl. Lin.

Even though he never revealed to any of his friends, Rowan had seen an Ashryver up close. Two actually. A boy around his age at the time who would sneak off the castle to play with the other street boys and a younger girl who looked like his carbon copy. The boy he had seen far more than the girl, being friends with him for a while. Before Rowan could ever fully befriend the girl too, everything had gone to shit.

He still remembered the day when he woke up in a crappy orphanage and everyone was talking about how Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was dead. The king, Orlon, had died in the attack to the castle but Aelin had disappeared. He remembered the pain in his chest in imagining Aedion, his friend and her cousin, discovering he had lost her. He remembered his own pain in imagining the girl he had seen twice but had been kind to him both times, and how he would never befriend her too.

Lin did look like Aelin. If she had survived, the two girls would probably look very much alike. Sharp jawlines, high cheekbones and a small nose, Lin looked as royal as the new queen sitting on the throne. Even if he and Fenrys were right and her manners were a complete disgrace.

A disgrace because she wasn’t a royal. She wasn’t Aelin.  

Suddenly, Rowan was pissed and the sight of her only worsened it. It was cruel to go to the Galathynius and present an impostor as their daughter. It was insensitive as fuck for them to play with people like that only for money, and this girl was so quick to accept that it made his stomach turn.

The first sight of her had made his stomach turn too.

“Why does she want to choose the route, though?” Lorcan finally said something, his voice cold. Rowan couldn’t read his face right now, but he knew Lorcan enough to know that he was raging inside because the girl had decked him.

It had been so unexpected that Rowan just stood there blinking.

“Hey, firedrake,” Fenrys said loudly, and Lin’s head snapped up from the dog she was petting. Her eyes narrowed, her impatience and dislike of them simmering off of her. “Why you want to choose the route?”

Rowan held his sigh but Gavriel didn’t.

“Firedrake?” Was all she replied.

“Yeah, every time you opened your mouth was like spewing fire, so what better nickname than a firedrake?” Fenrys smiled and Rowan was sure that if it wasn’t for the dog licking her fingers, she would have attacked him.

“Fuck you. And I want to choose the route because I didn’t lie earlier.”

They just started at her blankly until she smiled, shrugging.

“I have places to be and people to see, wolfie.”

Fen actually laughed and Connall and Vaughan snorted. Gavriel merely smiled but, as Rowan, Lorcan’s face was serious.

Rowan really thought that he would put an end to this. Side with him that this was stupid and that there was no way in hell this could would pass as Aelin.

When Lorcan opened his mouth, though, Rowan’s world fell.

“Welcome to the group, firedrake. Don’t do anything to make me kill you in your sleep.”

The girl had balls, Rowan had to admit, as she smiled sarcastically and almost in a scary way at Lorcan as if to say Likewise.

Tags:

@morganofthewildfire​ @alyx801​ @ladywitchling​ @westofmoon​ @rolltide7​ @queen-of-glass​ @alifletcher2012​ @rattlethestarsdarling​ @rowanisahunk​ @bilkul-sharam-nahi-aati​ @faerie-queen-fireheart​ @sweetlyvillainous​ @chemicha​

[yandere-society]

Day 1 | Cold Earth

Synopsis: The king is such an arrogant and vain grinch, commanding you to come into work on Christmas of all days! Although you realize that he might be more harmful than the green whovian himself as you take the first step into his vacant, golden palace.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Jin x Female Reader 

Admin: @roses-ruby​​

Warnings: Yandere themes

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The rich may exist on earth but live in a whole different world.

There’s a saying familiar to this or something, correct? Well whatever it was, as you stomped up the large marbled stairs, carrying your heavy skirt with nimble fingers, you most definitely had to agree with the proverb. You step up to the very large golden door, decorated with the carvings of vines and flowers and two small angels who held horns in their palms on each side. Two huge men stood on each end, with spears in their muscular arms and a sharp look in their otherwise empty eyes. Standing as tranquil as a statue and facing straight ahead. As you inch your neck back to take a good, long look at the magnificent entrance, an uneasiness fills your body.

You were sure you wouldn’t have to come here today of all days.

Cold winter air blew swiftly around you, and your limbs shivered frigidly. With a sigh, you comb the messy strands of your hair with your fingers. It was a must to look presentable before him. The sky was a pale white, covered in thin wisps of clouds. Yet the men did not move an inch, not even a slight tremble in their burly stance.

“I was asked to meet the King.”

The man on your right glances at you for the first time, studying your identity with trained scrutiny. Yet you were not affected, you had been through these same gates – these same men – many, many times. After a few seconds, the men turned on their heel, in complete sync and began to push open the heavy door.

As usual, a quiet dread surrounds you and you take one last glimpse at your surroundings. The castle area, just north of your village was strikingly barren compared to the village that was filled with merry for the holidays. Somewhere beyond the castle grounds, you spot the messenger that brought you here giving you a vacant stare. Your family had been wary, but you told them you’d return quickly. Who could deny the king, Kim Seokjin, anyway?

There was never any snow where you lived, even when temperatures plummeted way below freezing. You were sure there was a reasonable explanation for the drought, but a part of you pondered on the thought that it was because the crown prince – no King himself who hated snow, the holidays, the happiness alike. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the world began turning the other direction once he queried. He was just that powerful, that spoiled. Yet you could not help but empathize with your village kids, having to go another Christmas without the wonder of snow.

Maybe it would be better if he lived in another world.

You step into the golden palace, your humble shoes leaving a trail of silent patter amongst the vast floor. It was gleaming, so much so, that you could spot your hunched reflection as you walked towards the throne with your head held down and hands clamped together. That was how he preferred for peasants to enter. Perhaps he’d allow you leniency, but you did not wish to cross that line of boundary with him. It wasn’t any warmer in the palace, at least not for anyone from the village. Even without raising your head, you could feel his stare burning through you as you came closer and closer to his throne.

Following your training, you halted at least a good 10 feet from where he sat, on such a high pedestal for such a raised king.

“You called for me, sire?”

The quiet depth echoing amongst the walls was haunting. Though there were large windows placed behind the multiple pillars, there was never any sun that shined into the palace as if it was cursed. Yet the chandeliers made the gold so bright it gave you a headache. There was a stillness around these halls that would never stand in competition with the coziness of a small peasant’s warm fireplace. It was like a beat less, bleak heartbeat. Your hatred for this wretched palace was interrupted by the king’s loud voice.

“Tell me servant, do you know what day it is today?”

It had been a while since he hadn’t addressed you with your real name. Now you were sure something was wrong. “…Christmas morning, sire.”

“Yes, it’s Christmas morning…and I suppose your family is warm by the fire, spreading holiday cheer back home?”

“Why…yes, they spent all day yesterday preparing.”

You couldn’t help breaking into a small smile, thinking of your dad relaxing around the large fireplace. Thankfully your older cousin had bought enough wood from the forest to last for the week. Mom was roasting her duck in oven. Your siblings must have been running around, playing with their new wooden toys and screaming their lungs out with the neighbor’s kids. Then there was your uncle, who was probably drunk off of the eggnog you had made while your aunt nags at him. It had been a long, hard year. Working your fingers to the bone at this lifeless palace for this heartless prince. But it had all been worth it as you could now provide them with the Christmas of their dreams.

Now you wish you could be there to spend it with them…and your fiancé.

“That sounds nice,” He tells you, but you could not feel the sincerity in his words. “You want to know how I spent my Christmas morning?”

Before you could respond, he jumps out of his seat. His bulky red robe meets the floor with a thud as he begins stepping off his pedestal. You could feel yourself physically shrink with his every step.

“I spent my morning alone -step- My parents resting in their graves and my relatives as useful as garbage. I just beheaded the last of them this morning, did you know?” -step-

You stood still, arms still crossed, and posture still bent. But you were a complete mess inside, desperately wanting to run away the closer he came.

“Then, as I was relaxing in my bath and thinking about you-” You tightened your hands, “About our last conversation, one of my knights dared to disturb me. And before I could put him to death -step- I came to learn of quite a particular piece of literature popular with you village folk.” -step-

“Some peasant, an inadequate man really, seems to have made his name around town by creating nursery level rhymes-”

-step-

“-about me.”

Your eyes widened in horror.

“Talking nonsense about how my shoes are too tight. About how my head isn’t screwed on right…about how my heart is two sizes too small.”

“About how I’m a… ‘grinch.’”

He stopped right in front of you. You could see yourself, your bowed head, in his spotless shoes. He smelled of untainted luxury. Your eyes were watering, and you wanted to close them, but you were frozen.

“Tell me, my love. Do my shoes look too tight?”

No. No. No. NO! Tell him no! It was a trained instinct, but you couldn’t say anything – couldn’t even move. All you could do was unclasp your mouth for a pathetically breathy exhale. Just then you felt cold fingers underneath your jaw, lifting you up into a standing position. And for the first time since you entered, you saw your king. His beautiful ghostly face, the unmatched ethereal features, his expensive purple suit. Plated in pure silk and tied together by his big fur robe. So beautiful. So cold.

“Is my head not screwed on right?” His pillow lips and puppy gaze moved along leisurely.

You shake your head, movements limited by his fingers. He rubs your chin with his thumb as he studies your face.

“And when I gave you my heart…did it feel two sizes too light as you held it within your palm?”

You didn’t know how to answer him. Of course, you had known of the tyrant’s feelings towards you. His incessant staring as you wiped his windows. The way he had you do everything for him, like button his shirts or comb his hair…as if he was a small child. Even his constant need to have you right beside him. Not doing anything, just standing. All while he watches you like a hawk. Some interactions had been more personal…more sensual than others.

His confession last week also kind of gave it away.

And just what were you to do? Say no? To the king and get beheaded? So, to save yourself you had lied. Told him to give you a week to think about it. But actually tonight, you had planned to run away with your fiancé. Someplace far away, where the king wouldn’t find you. Where even his mighty talons wouldn’t reach. That’s what your family had prepared for, all through yesterday – your departure. All you wanted was this…just one last Christmas with your loved ones. One where you could actually afford to give them joy.

“N-no…” You say, thinking about the consequences they’d have to face.

“Then why did you crush it so easily by trying to marry the guy who writes all these terrible things about me?”

It was just this one poem. The one you had begged him not to publish. The king’s heartless reputation was well-known amongst the village folk. Used to joke around with and lighten their impoverished lives, for even if they weren’t as rich as the king, they had at least a soul. Still you were always fearful this gossip fodder would get back to him, that one day one of his spies around the city would be able to fit in with the villagers. All the others were easy to spot, with their monotone gazes and pulled faces. Nonetheless your fiancé stuck true to his writer’s heart. That was what you loved about him the most.

“I…I…I’m s-sorry…”

“My sweet love,” He moves closer, his brisk fingers trailing down your shoulder and grasping your arm. For someone so malevolent, how could he resemble such an angel? “What do you think…this ‘grinch’ creature would do to someone like your fiancé?”

“N-no p-please…I’m sorry.”

“Unlike what you think…I am neither green nor heartless.” He places his other hand on your face, wiping away tears you didn’t know existed. “I might let them all live.”

You gasp in pleasant surprise. Could this be a Christmas miracle?

“All you have to do, is never leave my side again.” His voice grew bitter and dull eyes filled with animosity. “You aren’t allowed outside of the palace any more and you never get to see them again, understand?”

You just stood there in shock and agony.

“Don’t be so sad my darling, isn’t this what you were planning in the first place? I’ve merely just fulfilled your wish.”

As you stand there, feeling light headed in his freezing arms, inside his frozen palace, he smiles. You will no longer get to see your mother’s smile or bicker with your dad and cousins. You won’t get to gossip with the neighbor or play with your siblings. You will no longer get to be with the man you love.

You will become a hollow soul, like the men outside. Robbed of all your warmth. Alive only for the grinch’s pleasure.

“Merry Christmas.” He smiles, and for a second it really did resemble the evil grin your fiancé had described in his works. Once he squeezes your arm, the gears in the back of your brain began to turn again like you were trained.

“Merry Christmas.” You squeak back, as he engulfs you in the coldest hug you’ve ever received.

Welcome to his world.

[filthy-reckless-rp]

Congratulations Ailin! Kylie Greenaway is all yours. Oh my gosh, we could just gush about Kylie for the rest of time but more importantly so could you. You’ve definitely tuned into her character, focusing just right on her relationship with Joy and her tendency to backbench the things that she wants for the sake of others. Her #intensity too was just exactly how I envisioned her relationship with Frankie and I loved reading you build on that aspect of her. There’s so much to work with and we cannot wait to see what you do with her!! Plus the Greenaway/Watts family interactions, I am excited!!

Please send your account in ASAP and you know the rest.

--Admin P

Canon Application:

Character Name: kylie greenaway

Why do you want this character?: kylie is this young woman with such a huge potential that lives in the shadow of a sister that underestimates her because of her own ego, that just wants to be the best and will be the best, whereas kylie’s desires are simpler: friends, love and the right amount of fun that any twnety-one year old wants to be having in the big apple. she pretends to be so different, so distant from the paps world, the rumors and the tabloids, but she’s drawn to it because she wants it, too! she’s been neglected by her family and herself. she shrunk herself into occupying the lesser space the better, and left all that space for joy to be the star of the show. the sharpay evans, and she’s just kelsey, the pianist, that gets substituted by a stereo. and yet kylie isn’t resentful towards her sister? no, she isn’t. she likes seeing her thrive and more often than not finds herself being worried. all in all, she wants her sister’s love and happiness before some… acting career. or julliard. or any crush. for now, of course. all things change in the UES with the right stimuli and the right amount of pressure. will the shadows continue to be enough or will she be swayed to hop into the fame bandwagon? to say screw you and take up the space she could be occupying? to allow herself be hurt over her failed not-relationship with frankie? nobody can be so good and pure all the time… least of all in the upper easy side.

Any changes?: hell nah i adore her

Wanted connections?: we’ll see but she got plenty so i’m pumped

Character’s birthday: july 19th (i couldn’t find if joy’s bday was up so i done it, but if it’s already up somewhere nd i missed it do tell me pls <3), with cancer sun, scorp moon and libra rising.

3 virtues and 3 flaws, explaining each:

PEACE-MAKER: kylie’s not the fondest of confrontation. well, she can do confrontation, but she doesn’t want to most of the time. she wants to be liked or, at the very least, more invisible than anything else. perhaps that wouldn’t be so and she wouldn’t be battling her desire to go out to the world and show them what she’s made of if she hadn’t grown up next to thundergirl joy. it’s okay, it’s whatever, and not talking about it nor acknowledging it is totally the way to go for it to not blow over, definitely. in kylie’s head, ceasing to be the peace-maker, ceasing to compromise her own desires for her sister’s would mean the end of an era. an era of calm and balance, and she’s not ready for that. she’s not, she’s not. this is not to say she doesn’t have a backbone, because she’ll bite back and she’ll bite back hard. she’s a peace-maker in the way that she keeps balance and shrinks herself, but she takes absolutely no bullshit. sarcasm queen supreme.

ADAPTABLE: you won’t find kylie greenaway being down in the dumps. ever. she is constantly happy, constantly adapting herself to circumstances. constantly spreading smiles that radiate warmth and welcomeness, or she’s quiet. that’s the closest she gets to being down in public, becoming aloof and taciturn and ignoring absolutely everyone except for her parents.

THEATRICAL: with her people, she adores to put on a show and make people laugh. when she tells an anecdote, she invests herself wholly and acts it out like a play. kylie’s charisma is magnetic and her theatrical antics are one of her worst-kept secrets. even in the way she presents herself, she puts on a show. she likes to call attention to herself, she likes to be the spotlight when the spotlight is willfully given to her, and she can own up to it with natural skill.

CONCEAL-DON’T-FEEL ARCHETYPE: it’s whatever is one of her most commonly used phrases about… well, just about everything. it’s easier if she just ignores that things affect her, that she has actual emotions aside from a smile or her nose in some type of book. but what is she supposed to do? show that she’s hurting, lost in life or scared shitless? hell no, that’s not her, y’know. perhaps when she was younger, she’d tell her mother about it, but then again, where did she learn her conceal don’t feel routine from if not from mrs. greenaway?

COWARD: this is not to say kylie greenaway doesn’t enjoy jumping off choppers, or high-risk sports like swimming with sharks and hamptons brunches with cricket games post-caviar, she does. but if she doesn’t impose herself to people when they push her around and occupy the space she is entitled to taking up, when she has to shrink herself again, it’s because she is afraid. doing that would include upsetting a certain stabilished balance and it’s whatever (more like “i’m terrified things will never be the same and people will absolutely hate me for that”, read by “people”, her sister and the rest of her family).

EMOTIONAL EXTREMIST: kylie’s very intense, she lives and breathes for the rush of adrenaline certain situations and emotions give her. in love, she’s an extremist. not with the other person, no, because she does understand people have their rhythm to life (although she would very much enjoy someone keeping up with her franctic pace), but within herself. she’s had more crushes than she dares count and they’ve all been so intense that she’d dare call it love each and every time. right now, she doesn’t take up space in her own life, but it feels like if she were to own up to the space that’s rightfully hers and start really living and stop postponing life like a snoozhed alarm, she’d go hard and win it over in a whim, unapologetic and proud. extremes are the only way she can feel comfortable, greys make her uncomfortable within herself, although she tends to choose the middle ground for surviving circumstances (exterior), inside it’s a whole other world.

If you don’t get this character, who would be your second choice?: nah im good

Para Sample (A couple of paragraphs, as the character you’re applying for):

sat by the window, her leg hops up and down franctically, without her noticing in the least.           ‘ kylie … ‘         no response ,      teeth stop squeezing the top of the pen and it starts tapping against the marble counter where a maid cut fruit and her mother supervised the process ,    not like beatriz knew how to properly cut fruit apparently .          ‘ kylie ,     are you listening to me ,   child ? ‘         a hand comes down on her tapping pen ,   stops the motions dead ,     the young woman’s eyes drift from her turned - off cellphone screen to her mother’s furrowed brows and displeased face .

she missed her father .

         ‘    yeah   ——–   no ,     not really .      sorry ,     mom ,     i’m –   ‘           damned before telling you what’s up with me ,          kylie thought and while the thought mildly distressed her ,    it wasn’t long until she’d supressed the nostalgic wave of times gone by when she’d tell everything to her mother ,     with her head laid down on her lap and manicured nails wading through her long ,     un - dyed locks .      but her mom’s not willing to wait for kylie to explain herself and it’s only enough for kylie to be looking at her for the woman to keep droning on about …     whatever it was that she was droning about .      failed marriages or gossips about old people ,     possibly her sister’s character in the tv show and how absolutely   incompetent   was her agent proving to be .     meanwhile ,    kylie’s waiting for a …      CALL  !!     a call !     her phone screen lights up and she grabs it before her mother can see the caller’s ID ,     or the panicked thrill in her face ,     hops off the stool .          ‘    i   —–   gotta go ,     i -   ‘           giggling nervously ,     the woman slowly starts backing away ,     grinning at her mother’s confusion .      she needs to get the phone ,   but she can’t do it in front of her mother ,     so she’s quick to turn on her heels and sprint off ,    reaching the front door in a flash as she called out   BYESEEYOULATERSORRYILOVEYOU  ,    the sound of the door slamming shut .

with no breaths inbetween ,     nothing to calm herself down ,     she picks up and it’s the producer ,    once again calling her to see if she’s made up a decision already .            ‘  kylie greenaway !      the missing half to my greenaway duo !  ‘           of course ,     of course ,      ( her heart drops a little ) ,      it’s okay ,     it’s whatever .                    ‘  heeeey ,   doug …   ‘             she begins ,     walking over to her car and getting inside with her phone on speaker ,      backing it out the driveway .                ‘  can y’ hold on a sec?     i gotta get out of the house and y’know ,     the paps .  ‘             it’s not like she’s waiting for an answer ,    much like her mother in that sense ,     she turns the cellphone’s screen downwards and waits for the gates to open ,     tinted glasses up and unforgiving to the photographers .       once she’s far enough so that no rumors could possibly spark up ,      she lowers her window ,     smiles to the mirror as she heads for the coast .                 ‘   sorry ,     safety measures .   ‘             her voice is apologetic enough for doug to perceive it ,     but he’s a producer and he doesn’t give a shit .            ‘   safety for what ,    sugar ?      will you tell me if you’re joining the team or you’re joining the team ?     ‘cause it will happen eventually and i’d like it to be sooner rather than later .     did   you see the script i sent you ?      we’re waiting for an answer to announce it to the crew ,   sugar .    ‘

that makes her stomach turn ,    cartwheel turns in her guts .     kylie swallows thickly .             ‘   you think you can hold off telling the crew for a little bit longer ?     i  ——  wanna tell my sister first .  ‘          tell her what ?         ‘   IS THAT A YES I’M HEARING ?     FUCK YEAH SUGAR YOU KNOW IT !   ‘         oh fuck .                ‘    NO !    no no no no no ,    no !!      i mean i want to   talk  to her about it first and see how she feels with it ,     i’m not saying yes !    ‘           but there’s no remedy ,     doug’s gotten the   emotional   yes that he wanted ,     so now all that’s left is …         ‘   we’ll meet with the writers tomorrow ,     do what y’ have t’ do before then ,    sugar .      you’re gonna be famous as   fuck ,     gorgeous !     ‘             is that good news ?    her heart’s thrumming in her chest ,     ringing in her ears ,    deafening her .    she’s terrified ,    terrified ,    oh so terrified .    how’s she supposed to tell joy     hey i was offered a part in your tv show and i kinda maybe already said yes without talking to you but anyway you don’t mind do you?      maybe if she clarified     you’re still the favourite in everything and you can keep the paps and the tabloids   the blow wouldn’t be that hard .                ‘     o -  okay …     i’ll ——- yeah ,    sure ,    i’ll do that .     see ya then …    ‘              

okay ,     so she’s terrified but she’s also    happy .     excited .     thrilled .          ‘   i’ll send you the specifics tomorrow ,   keep an eye out and keep your panties on .    ‘           the line goes dead .         there’s a moment of …    nothing .     silence .     pulling over ,     she stops .         her hands girp the steering wheel with mighty force ,      her breathing is agitated and her eyes remain wide and set on nothing in particular ,    the mid - distance .         but then she begins laughing ,     a watery laugh that comes with her eyes glassing over .     fingers let go of the steering wheel while she leans back on her seat and breathes out .       the tears wash off ,    replaced by a wide grin that takes up her whole face .  

‘   here’s to new beginnings ,     kylie .   ‘              she mutters to herself ,     turning the radio up and flooring the accelerator .         terrified ,    but excited nonetheless .

[gguksgalaxy]

Engraved pt. 16

Masterpost <– Engraved 15 | Chased 2 –> | Engraved 16.5 –>

Short: You’re a tattoo artist for a gang known as EXO who own a club down town. (read synopsis at masterpost) Words: 8890  Notes for Update: 45 Warnings: Anger, fighting, abuse, smut and all that, something that sounds like self harm but is NOT, sorry guys... Pairings: D.O. x Reader, slight Chen X Reader A/N: pls don't kill me....talk to me!

AFF link

Your pov

You found yourself at home, drenched from the rain again, sitting on the couch staring at the bottle of whiskey that was still on the table somehow. To be honest, you’d never been an emotional drinker, but right now you just wanted to fucking get away from everything. It was better than dosing on pills or something, wasn’t it? So you poured yourself a generous glass and clambered up the stairs after leaving a not for Kyungsoo. You didn’t expect him to come home to you tonight, but you left it anyway. Saying it might be better if he sleep on the couch tonight. Just because you didn’t like taking your problems to bed with you, and right now that was the only way not to. Your bed was comfortable, but ice cold from the window you had left open. So you sighed deeply, took a large gulp of the whiskey and gathered your blanket down the stairs. Just so you could put them in the dryer one a short trial. When you waited for it to finish you stared at you phone, on the verge of calling Jongdae and breaking down. There was a sense of fear, and you noticed it in your body as you thought Kyungsoo came home. But as you waited silently in the laundry room, you realised it was probably just a noise.

So you went to bed with your warm cover and whiskey to ease in the sleep. There were no nightmares, or worries in your dreams, but when you woke up you noticed you hadn’t slept that well. Nor that much actually, since it was 10 am and you had gone to sleep at like 6am. You showered, long and scorching hot, and did your usual makeup. With clothes you couldn’t bother for anything tight today. So you went with a pair of baggy jeans and a loose top. It might not look the greatest, but you weren’t up for it today. There were no customers planned, so you’d just be up for hanging downstairs and waiting to see if anyone stepped in. The peace and quiet would be nice. With care, you tiptoed downstairs, and you weren’t sure whether you were sad or relieved to find the couch empty as much as the rest of the room. Nothing seemed touched, so he mustn’t have come here today. Down in the shop, you found it just as empty as your house upstairs. And it suddenly felt quiet. You turned up the music and grabbed a half empty sketchbook and doodled around a bit. Nothing really seemed to work, everything turned out…not how you wanted. Slowly, you flipped back through the pages, first finding drawings of Kyungsoo, then Jongdae, Baekhyun, Jongin, all your friends, even Minseok was in this one. You smiled lightly, and cursed yourself for thinking the way you did. This wasn’t the same, and you’d prove it to yourself. History doesn’t repeat itself, ever. So you decided to go clean your place a bit, the little tubes of paint and the tattoo guns. The chairs, floor. Three hours later the place looked better than it had before, even though you weren’t a really clean person. That’s when the door opened, and a rush of cold flooded into your shop, it wrapped around your ankles and stilled you in your movements. How you knew you weren’t sure, but you knew it was him. And when you turned around you gasped at the sight of him, not that there was something to him, apart from the scrape on his jaw. It was just the realisation that he’d returned. “Kyungsoo.” You breathed. “Upstairs.” He stated, giving you a look that gave you all the wrong chills. There was something emotionless about his face, the way his jaw was set. His arms crossed over his chest as he took a step closer and you found yourself stepping back. But you kept your face straight, show no fear, have no fear. “Angel.” Your name came like a growl from his lips, menacing. So you found yourself, stepping backwards, like a scared animal not wanting to turn your back on the predator. He turned the little label on the door to closed, and followed you slowly. You had to turn on the stairs, but he made no intent of getting within 4 steps of you, he trailed behind on your pace. Your heart was hammering in your chest by the time you reached upstairs and walked into the living room. That’s when he switched. He took two long strides, deep steps that made a loud noise on the floor. Out of reflex you tried to move away, but he cut you of and used his force to practically slam you into the counter. The marble collided with your back and hipbones and you wanted to make a noise but you swallowed it as he pressed his chest against yours. He looked down on you for as he could, and you tried to keep yourself big. His eyes didn’t flicker, there was rage, and his breaths were deep and controlled as they fanned your face. “You’re such a hypocrite.” He snarled, almost as if baring his teeth. “All that fucking bullshit, about me not prying into your life. About me fucking needing to leave it along. You’re keeping shit from me, and it’s big, I can fucking smell it!” his voice raised like someone was slowly turning up the volume and all the hairs on your body were standing up with tension. “But you can’t even, for one fucking time, keep your god damned nose out of my business!” You swallowed, face still straight, but no words formed from your lips. “At this point I don’t fucking care what your dumb excuse is. You crossed the fucking line! We agreed to this! To not pry! Because YOU wanted it! YOU with your secrets and your lies and whatever it is, that’s going on with Xiumin!” His breathing picked up even more. “I’m sorry.” You said lowly. “Sorry? You’re sorry?” “Yes.” “Oh fuck it Angel! As if your sorry is going to change anything!” You reached up to touch his arm, and his hand came up quickly to grab your wrist so tight you gritted your teeth, and he did the same to the other. Keeping them by your side. “Tell me, right here. What did you do to Lay?” his voice had gone so deep you barely recognised it as his. “What the fuck was it?!” he shook you, and your hands strained against the grip on your wrist, fingertips practically going numb. “Did you screw him over?! Broke a promise like ours?!” You shook your head. “This has no-“ “This has EVERYTHING to do with that! Because I want to know. Just as much as you wanted to know what I was doing. And you didn’t even have the nerve to ASK!” he yelled. “And here you stand, with you fucking face straight, as if this does nothing to you.” “You’re mad.” You said. “You’re right I’m mad! You had no reason to do that! God I should’ve known you’d come after me.” He was shaking with rage, and you found the whole situation a little blown up. You had no idea why this enraged him like this. To the point where he might break your wrists. “I was involved in the death of his friend.” “What?” he snapped, and he pulled your wrist, pressing you against the counter till it hurt. “You kill people now?! What else have you not told me?!” “Kyungsoo.” “Don’t Kyungsoo me! Answer me!” You kept your mouth shut firmly, afraid of what he’d do. You tried to see what he was hiding beneath this anger, because anger was a cover up emotion. It was fake, you were sure of it. “Answer me!” he yelled, shaking you again, and your elbow toppled over a glass from the sink, it fell to pieces next to your feet. “ANGEL!” Then he chuckled, rolled his eyes. “What am I even thinking, right, trying to get something out of a person like you. Your mask is glued to your face, you can’t take it off. You can’t show remorse, or anything at all. It’s all for your own gain. I should’ve listened to Xiumin, he warned me about you. You rogues are all the same disgusting shits.” The joint in your wrist strained against his grip, and you finally dropped. Tears in the corners of your eyes, you whispered something you never thought you’d do. “Kyungsoo, you’re hurting me.” “Ha?” “You’re hurting me.” You whispered, and you searched his eyes for any sign of regret, or anything beside anger. It was like his facade cracked just as yours had, the anger sipped away into something you recognised as embarrassment, regret, and sadness. He dropped your wrists and you immediately were 5 steps away from him, holding your hands against your chest. “Stop.” You said, when he tried to come closer. You pointed at him like he had yesterday. “Don’t fucking get any closer.” Kyungsoo reached out for you and you stepped far far away. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You snarled, angry now. “If you get any closer I’m taking you down, I won’t hesitate.” “You’re afraid.” “You could’ve broken my wrists!” He didn’t speak, he looked like a kicked puppy. “You don’t get it do you? If you hadn’t fucking screamed at me, slammed me into the fucking counter, I could’ve explained!” you said loudly. He flinched at the harshness of your barely raised voice, his hands hanging limp by his side. Your own wrists were throbbing, bruises blooming quicker than you’d expected. “I was there to help you. I didn’t fucking follow you to come there and scold you, or get angry at you, or whatever you think I was there to do. I want to help you, I was SCARED for you, I was WORRIED.” “You can’t help me.” He whispered, and you maybe overstepped after that. “I wanted nothing more than to get in there, and get you out. I saw what that man can do. But you’re stupid enough to throw your own life over the line because you’re angry? What the fuck Kyungsoo?” He bit his lip and shot you a glare that was halfhearted. “What kind of sick thing…Are you trying to get killed? CAGE FIGHTING? Those bruises, everything, I was so mad and Xiumin, for THIS?! Are you that stupid?!” you raised your hand to rub your forehead, but every movement hurt, and you let out a high pitched whine in the back of your throat. So you shuffled over to the sink and ran your wrists under cold water, every movement hurt. He stepped closer, you saw him in the corner of your eyes. “If you take one more fucking step towards me, I swear to God Kyungsoo I will make you regret it.” You snarled again. “Don’t come near me.” The rate with which he had backed down surprised you actually. He’d gone from raging anger to silent remorse. “Y/n.” He mumbled, saying your name for the first time that day. “No, don’t even dare. I wanted to help you, but at this point, I’m not sure if I still do.” You stated, but you felt in yourself it was a lie. It was followed by guilt. A soft thud followed and you didn’t even look back to what happened, the room was silent after that. And your anger slowly calmed down as the cool water helped ease the ache in your wrists. The bruises were blue and purple, like rings, like shackles. It made you sick to your stomach, and acid bubbled up in your throat. You swallowed it down. That’s when you heard it, soft sniffled behind you. You thought you might’ve been imagining it at first, but after a few minutes you realised your weren’t. So you turned around and found him sitting against the side of the kitchen island. He was hunched over with his knees pulled up to his chest, head down and hands in his hair. His frame trembled and a sob so suddenly escaped him that he almost bumped his head. It was a heart wrenching image, no matter what he’d just done to you. A voice in the back of your mind told you to stop, to not do this. But you couldn’t. So you knelt down beside him, wrists and hands still wet, and lightly touched him. As if you were afraid. He jumped at your touch, and looked at you with wide yes, almost leaning away. You scanned his face, tear streaks running down his cheeks, scratches in his neck from his own hands. He dropped his hands, and sniffled, lips parted. Lips you’d come to love, eyes you’d learnt to read, and cheeks you’d wanted to kiss. You reached out again, and ran hand through his hair. “Talk to me.” You said. More tears made their way down and he leant his head back forward, as if trying to shield you. There was so much regret in this, grief, he was hiding something. And it was so deeply pushed away that it was threatening to spill over. Or maybe it already had. There was something inside you that told you you shouldn’t bring him close. To keep him out while you still could, while you could still escape. There were alarm bells ringing everywhere in your head. But your heart was leading, and you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him towards you. One of his arms slowly came up and around your waist, and you flinched when he accidentally pressed against the spot where you’d collided with the counter. But you let him, his hand resting on your hip as he dropped his knees and somewhat pressed his cheek against your chest. He was shaking, skin flushed but seemingly cold. So you shushed him and soothingly ran your fingers through his hair till you found him still and laying on the floor with his head in your lap. There you were, on the kitchen floor, bruised, with Kyungsoo broken in your arms. What a pair you were. “Talk to me.” You said again, as your fingers had by now pulled every knot from his hair and it was soft to the touch. His face was facing away from you, and he played with a thread on a tear in your jeans. Absentmindedly following the seams of the patched stitched on, sending a pleasant tingle up and down your spine. His breathing had evened out, but he still wasn’t talking. It bothered you. “Kyungsoo, I need you, to please, talk to me.” His breath was warm against your thigh. “I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse from the crying and you nodded slowly at his answer. “I’m so sorry.” He turned over to look up at you, and reached for the hand that was now on his stomach. At first he played with your fingers, looking up at the ceiling while you studied his features. Soft, and you touched his cheek lightly, brushing over the skin. He pulled your hand closer softly, the contrast with earlier was so stark, like you were made out of fine china now. Something in his eyes changed as he saw your wrists up close, the bruising. But you also noticed your old scars, like white ribbons standing out against the blue. They were barely visible normally and he probably hadn’t noticed until now. The rough rub of his calloused finger stung against the sore skin and he immediately stopped when you hissed. Within a second he was up and wanted to move away, but you caught him around his waist and pulled him back. He didn’t resist, as you pressed his back against your chest and rested your chin on his shoulder. “Don’t, please.” He almost begged you, but you didn’t let you. With your arms tightly wrapped around his waist you kept him close, and you pressed your nose against his neck, inhaled his scent. He smelled like rain, and outdoors, and something earthy, refreshing. You’d grown accustomed to it, it had pulled into your sheets and pillows. Become familiar and something you loved. He shivered as you kissed his neck, once, twice. “Y/n.” His voice was still broken, and he took your hand in his, examining your wrists. “What are these?” You thought about your answer, and you didn’t want to lie to him, but you didn’t want to tell him. Not this, not yet. “Shackles from the past.” You said, lips moving against his skin. “Someone did this to you.” He breathed, and lifted your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles one by one. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what happened to me.” “You were angry.” You said. “Yes.” “You can’t control it.” “I wish I could.” You touched his cheek to make him look at you. “Let me help you.” He looked at you searched your eyes still. “How? I’m only going to hurt you, I already did.” There was a piece of you that said he did, that it was wrong, but…you never expected it to wreck him like that. “I…I want to say it’s okay, but it’s not. But it’s alright, we’ll find a way. I want to try, but I need you to let me in.” He sighed. “I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to hurt you. But I knew in the back of my mind that it would happen.” “How?” “I’ve always been like this.” “Always?” “For a long time.” Something came back to you, something he’d said. “You said, a while back, that you’d never been with someone before, right?” He nodded. “On purpose?” He nodded again. You kissed his lips. “I know I might be, looking for things that aren’t there. Because I know that…whatever this is between us can’t fix this, I mean it won’t go away. But we can try to work with it, and see how far we get.” There was a spark of hope in his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You think so?” “I think…I’m not accusing you okay? But it’s not…alcohol related, or drugs, it’s something else. And right now I’m okay with you not telling me, but at some point, for this to work you understand that you’ll have to tell me whats going on. For me to be able to help you through this.” He stared at you, and leant forward, kissing you, a soft peck. “I’ll promise if you promise me something.” You cocked your head to the side, and he turned in your grasp. His legs slipped under yours, pushing them up, until you were sitting intertwined on the floor. Your hands on his biceps, his hands came up to cup your cheeks with a deep deep breath. “What is it?” you asked, drawing light soothing circles. “If I ever, no matter the circumstances, hurt you again. No matter how small it is, I don’t care. If I hurt you again, please leave me.” He asked, tears in his eyes again. “Because I can’t stomach the thought of hurting you, of anyone hurting you, but especially me. It scares me.” “I promise.” You said, without a doubt. “But you’re not going to hurt me again.” “How can you be so sure?” You smiled and ran your hands up from his arms, brushing over the bandage there, pulling him in and connecting your lips to his. It was soft and sort of like how he’d kissed you after you fought with Minseok, but this was more…loaded. It was just your lips moving against each other, and his hand coming to your sides to pull you closer to him. Chest’s pressed against each other and hands resting in comfortable places. Soft kisses and little nips that you smile into it, as you wound a hand in his hair and he moved his hand down your back to dip his fingers under your shirt. With a soft hitch of your breath you moved away from his touch when he reached the sore spots. And he stilled in your grasp. So you kissed him again. “It’s alright.” You whispered against his lips. He tentatively moved his hands further up your back and you nodded with a smile, kissing him more. He was hesitant, with everything, but he followed you almost pliantly. So you deepened the kiss a little, licking along the seem of his lips and waiting for him to react and part his lips. There was something tingling in the pit of your stomach, warm and soft. And your whole skin seemed to be covered in goosebumps everywhere he touched you. Under your shirt, the edge of your shoulder blades, your ribs, his lips against yours. Your fingers in his hair, his neck, down his ribs and making him shiver for you. How long you sat there, you didn’t know. But neither of you showed intentions of moving from the cold wooden floor. “Angel.” He whispered against your mouth. “Hmm.” You hummed, detaching your lips from his and kissing along his jaw, to his neck. His pulse was going so fast, maybe faster than it had earlier, but more steady. “I don’t think we.” “Shh.” You moved from his grasp and stood up, taking his hand so he’d follow your lead. He got up looking at you with affection, but also a bit of fear. So you kissed him again, leaning up, cupping his cheeks. “It’s okay.” He placed his hands on your hips with shaky fingers and drew you in close ever so slowly. You didn’t think you’d ever smile this much while kissing someone. You didn’t think you’d ever kiss someone this slowly, this…lovingly. You took his hand in yours again, breaking the kiss, giving him a peck. So intertwined your fingers and pulled him along the living room to the stairs. Each step you took, he silently followed, his breath quick and even. When you reached the top of the stairs you turned around, but you didn’t let go of his hand. But you did kiss him, being level with him now one step lower. It was languid and it was almost like his tongue found parts of you he hadn’t found before. It was searching for all those little spots that made you squirm, also as he  had both hands flat on your upper back. Fingers spread out and warm, pressing, as your hands were on his shoulders. You made out on the top of the stairs for quite some time, and you found yourself lifted carefully and pressed against the wall. His teeth grazing the skin of your neck softly, not to bruise or mark. It was a toe curling sensation, his head down by your shoulder and your fingers curling tightly in his hair. He mumbled incoherent words on your skin as he found your lips again. With a light chuckle you wanted to move to the bedroom, but he wasn’t budging from where he held you against the wall. “Are we going to make out at the top of the stair for the rest of the evening?” you quirked an eyebrow and looked at him. He didn’t smile back at you though. “I don’t think I…” “Are you afraid?” you said, cupping his cheek. “I’m not sure.” “Kyungsoo.” You said, touching your nose to his. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” There was a bit of hesitation from him, but you kissed is away, clumsily guiding him into the bedroom and towards the bed. You slowly slipped your fingers under his shirt, sliding them up over his chest to feel every ridge under your fingers. His breathing stocked and he looked at you, lifted his arms when you pulled off his shirt.  You leant down to kiss his chest, and one of his hands tangled in your hair now, cupping the back of your head. As you slowly kissed down his chest, teeth grazing over a nipple in a way that made him throw back his head, and then all the way down to where you unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled you back up to kiss you, it was like neither of you could breathe without it. It was so unrushed, but also needy in a way that you both kept each other close. Chest pressed together, you almost standing on his toes, your hands pressed between you two where you could revel over his skin. Over the bruises from yesterday, and you reached up to brush against the scrape on his face. It made him pull back and look at you, silently. “If you want to stop, tell me. Okay?” you whispered, as if nobody else could hear but him. He frowned but nodded, gliding his hands on your back up, up, up till your shirt was off. And he could dip down to kiss your collarbone, tongue peaking out to taste the skin, one hand under your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple and your back arched, it made you feel the sting, but you didn’t care at this point. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, and the nuzzling your cheek. “Don’t go.” You chuckled softly and ran a hand down his back until your fingers were under the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not going anywhere.” He helped you from there, slipping of his jeans, slipping off yours, until you both found yourself in your underwear under the sheets. Skin pressed to skin, kissing each other, kissing every piece of skin you find. Nothing was left untouched, and small moans were forming in the back of your throat as he had his mouth was latched around one of your nipples. It was the first time really, that he’d hovered over you and taken in your body. Taken the time to appreciate it and find all the little marks and kiss them. He’d trailed his hand up the almost invisible scar on your side, and looked at you with remorse He’d found thin scars on your back that he traced with his fingers, the bullet scars he’d kissed, the cut he’d traced with his tongue. You’d traced the patterns of his sleeves, the tattoos on his chest, and he’d done the same. The stag tattoo on your thigh, the roses on your hip, every one of them. Even each tattoo on each finger. The curtains were wide open, and nobody would see, but the light from outside was slowly fading into the night. How much time had passed, you didn’t know, you frankly didn’t care. He shifted his weight and suddenly squeezed his eyes shut in pain, his shoulder. You reached under you, slipping your panties off and pushed him to sit up. “Turn.” You mumbled against his lips, as you guided him to sit back against the headboard. There was something about having the rough skin of his hands all splayed our over your back that you loved. Only a light pressure to keep you so so close, as his tongue moved against yours. It might’ve sounded cheesy, but at that moment, sitting in his lap, it felt like your hearts beat almost in sync. As you nipples dragged over his skin, and you felt his abdominal muscles clench and unclench. So again, you kissed down his chest, and he leant his head back against the headboard, sighing deeply. You felt the tension seep from his body as you got lower. So you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and dragged them down his legs till they were off. He impatiently hooked his hand under your arm to pull you back, and you kind of swatted him away and ran your hands up his legs. Massaging the muscles, and inching up over his hipbones, up his waist. Before you came back up to him, you kissed his tip, once, and he let out the most strangled moan you’d heard him give. You smiled and came back up, to kiss his exposed throat and neck. He was hard, pressed between the two of you, and with every shift of your hips he moaned. You noticed something, and kissed his cheek. “You took your piercings out?” He frowned, shifted his hips, “Fighting, it’s dangerous.” But he’d kept his face piercings in, although you understood it. It was good, it would be easy, it would be new. And you reached down to lightly wrap your hand around his member, stroking up a few times. He groaned, head falling back again, a gorgeous sight. You reached to the side for the nightstand where there was by now a half empty box of condoms, and fished one out while he kept a hand on your waist to steady you. He pulled you back, kissed you, bit your lip. Touched your skin and set it on fire with every brush. You rolled the condom onto him, slowly, and he watched your face with a silent emotion that was tensing between the two of you since the first kiss of that day. Something neither of you wanted to speak in fear of loosing it. With a hum in the back of your throat you leant up on your knees, and one of his hands came down under your ass to support you a little, the other splayed over your side. You grabbed it, intertwining your fingers and pushing them over so you could lean on the headboard. With one hand you’d steadied him, and then slowly inched down. Slowly, feeling every inch go smoothly and sending waves of electricity up your spine. Goosebumps on his skin, and he was biting his lip to be quiet until you bottomed out and he moaned deeply in his chest. It rumbled against your body and you moaned in return. There was no haste, you sat there, pressed against each other, not even moving all that much. But each movement elicited small moans, or whines from either of you. As you let him lean you back with one hand, arching your back so you sought support on his thigh, he attached his mouth to your breasts again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling, and with each tension of your body his moans sent little vibrations up your skin. But you’d come back to him, leaning your forehead against his and you ground you hips down slowly. You moaned in unison, drowning each other out with a kiss as you kept doing that. Back and forth, circles turning into figure eights, creating a type of friction that was so unknown to either of you that you sometimes just stopped in order to come down a little and drag everything out. Like this, so slowly, you felt him twitch inside of you, and it made your stomach clench. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning out over your clammy skin. Sweat from both of you easing the slide of your body’s little movement. All this time your hands were still intertwined, as he kissed your neck. Both of your moans pitched and became louder and you knew you were both close, neither of you wanting to keep dragging this out. So he leant back a little, looking straight into your eyes as he suddenly bucked his hips up into yours. You moaned at the feeling, and it sent you toppling forward into his chest. He caught you as you did, and held you close. His mouth easily found yours as he added to your slow grind. You shamelessly groaned into each other mouths as you felt yourself reach higher, and he felt it too, as he reached for your thigh and pushed them apart a little further. Just so he sank that little bit deeper and you whined, clenching your teeth. Kyungsoo came first, pressing his eyes closed, hiding his face again in the crook of your neck. It was silent but you felt it in every inch of his body. The feeling of him pulsing inside of you sent you over the edge. And you let out a moan high pitched so that your voice broke off at the end. You shuddered and then fell relaxed against his chest. Neither of you wanted to move, but you knew you had to. He hummed something into your skin that tickled and made you smile, and you ran a hand through his now slightly damp hair. “Come.” You whispered. You lifted yourself off of him, and both of you hissed then. But you moved over, and pulled at your intertwined hands so he’d come after you. He stood up on shaky legs and silently followed. You entered the bathroom, and turned the light on halfway, so it was dimly lit. Your bedroom had been dark by then, and this was nice. He looked at you with a childlike confusion, and you turned on the bathtub. Kyungsoo got rid of the used condom, and you reached behind him for you pill, just in case you would forget later on. He smiled endearingly at you, and you kissed him while the bath ran full. With your hands on his arms, and his on your waist. By the time it was full you were shivering and a little cold, and you pulled him into the bathtub after you’d put your hair up into a bun. The bubbles on the top were soft as you breached the warm water with your feet. He stepped in too, and held the same slightly confused face as you sank down against the back of the tub. So you pulled his hand and he sat down between your legs. There was something heart warming about how he followed your every movement, you were leading him, almost teaching him. But he was so calm, and you felt it in his steady heartbeat as you placed a hand over his heart. The water soothed your aching muscles, the bruises on you back. You kissed his shoulder, the corner of his jaw, and nuzzled his cheek as he leant his head back onto your shoulder. His hands were slowly moving up and down your legs, silky smooth movements because of the water. The bath was fragrant, like your bodywash, honey, vanilla, not sweet but soft. He inhaled deeply, sighing, relaxing against you. You massaged the skin on his stomach, and his sides that made him shiver as always. He was completely peaceful now, such a difference from earlier today, like all worry had seeped away from him. Kyungsoo opened his mouth to say something, after the ages of silence. But you knew exactly what he was going to say so you searched for his hand Soon, as per usual, you felt your eyes dropping closed, and you let them. Enjoying this silent moment of comfort between the two of you that held so much promises for the future.

***

You woke up the next morning, completely entangled with him, warm and rolled into the blankets. “Morning.” He said with a gravelly voice. “Hey.” You whispered, smiling lazily and pressing a kiss to his lips. “How are you feeling?” He now opened his eyes, and looked at you. “Good.” You sat up in his grasp, his fingers hooking into the material of the shirt you were wearing. “Yeah? I’m happy.” A wide smile broke out onto his face, unlike you’d ever seen and it made your heart swell. He pulled you down for another kiss, because who cares about morning breaths, and you just let him. “I need to get back though.” He said when he stopped kissing you. “To the warehouse.” You nodded, pushing your hair behind your ear. “I’ll come with.” “You sure?” he asked. “Yeah, I mean it’s like my second home. You have a job?” you asked, and he nodded with a regretful look. So you smiled to wipe it away. “Let’s get up.” Both of you got up, dressed, and went downstairs to eat. You were wearing his hoodie and a pair of leggings, and he wore a long sleeved shirt with black jeans. You could see where his lower arm was bandaged from the bite wound. “Did you get a shot or something for that?” you said, pointing at it while eating cereal. He swallowed a bit of his sandwich. “Regularly.” “Ah, good.” You ate a bit more and he handed you another mug of coffee. “Kyungsoo can you do something for me?” “What?” “Don’t go back here, to the ring.” He frowned and was silent. “I…will try.” You reached out for his hand and squeezed it. “That’s all I’m asking.” Then he turned over your hand and pushed back the sleeves, finding where you wrists were still bruised and a little tender. He didn’t say anything about it really, but you saw the regret on his face. So you grabbed a pair of scissors. “What are you doing?” “Making you pay.” You laughed, pointing the scissors at his face. “Here.” You cut little holes in the edge of the sleeves so you could hook your thumbs through them. “Just so nobody sees.” You said. “Thank you.” He mumbled.

He drove the two of you to the warehouse, and Baekhyun opened the gates for you. And later you found yourself in the kitchen making grilled cheese for you, and Soo, and Baekhyun, and Jongdae as a super later lunch. Because everyone wanted a piece of your grilled cheese. Minseok strolled in and out of the kitchen, looking you up and down, but passing without another word. Jongdae came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your cheek. “You good?” he asked. You nodded, smiled. “Yeah, much better.” “You sounded worried on the phone, I’m glad you’re okay. “ You had to stand on your tippy toes to get the herbs you needed from the cupboard, and without you actually noticing your hoodie rode up far up your chest. Jongdae gasped, and stilled you when you stepped down. “What did you do?” he asked, pulling at the material. “Nothing, I bumped into the counter.” “Doesn’t look like you bumped into the counter.” He said. “Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not lying.” You stated flatly. “It’s okay.” You weren’t really lying though. But he wasn’t having any of it, damn him for knowing you better than anybody else. You should’ve expected it, and you damned yourself. His hand circled around your wrist to turn you towards him, but even the lightest grip hand you tense and hiss. He quickly moved his hand up your arm to pull you closer. “Angel.” He said, voice low. And you tried to push him away from you, before he managed to roll up your sleeves. You struggled and he shook you suddenly to still you. “Stop.” He stated, and in fear you did, as he pulled your sleeves over your arm. There was an uncomfortable silence as he looked at the bruising around your wrist, the way your scars stood out. He crunched his teeth, a terrible habit when he was angry. And all you knew to do was touch his arm. “Jongdae.” You tried. “Did he do this?” he spat, looking at you in anger. “Listen to me.” “NO! Angel, did Kyungsoo do this to you?” You couldn’t lie to him, not about this. “I need you to sit down an-“ “Your back as well? What did he do? Slam you against the counter? Is that why you weren’t lying?” His voice raised and you tried to shush him to nobody heard. You cupped his cheeks. “Listen, listen. Shhhh. Okay. I need you to trust me here. I know this isn’t right, I’m not saying it is. But we’re working things out and I need you to not do this right now. Trust me, believe me. And don’t do out there and provoke him.” He watched you, with a deadly sense of fear in his eyes, mixed with anger. “He hurt you.” “Yes.” “Fuck.” He growled, and let go of you, leaning on the counter. You saved your last grilled cheese from the pan before it burnt and let him calm down a bit. “I want to rip him, to shreds.” You sighed and sat down beside him. “Look at me.” He did as you told. “I’m going to bring Baekhyun and Kyungsoo their lunch, and then we’ll talk about this okay? So stay here, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in five minutes.” You placed two plates, yours and his, in front of him, and he broke of a piece and tried it. Stringy cheesy trailing behind. You touched his cheek. “It’ll be okay.” So quickly, you trippled down the hallway and the stairs towards Baekhyun’s room who was playing some game on his playstation. He knocked off his headphones and paused it, to come up to you and take the plate. “Thank you for the amazing food.” He grinned, and took a large bite. “So you and Kyungsoo.” He mumbled with his mouth full. You wanted to smack him across the head for it but ended up laughing. “Listen, my relationships are none of your business.” “Suho said so!” You almost face palmed yourself, literally. “Don’t listen to him, he knows nothing.” Baekhyun frowned. “You know, we’re friends you can tell me this stuff.” He was sweet at heart, Baekhyun, even though he talked way too much. There was something playful but caring about him, a great friend. “We are Baekhyun, but…me and Kyungsoo are nothing official.” “So you are sleeping together!” he said, excited. “I knew it, oh damn Yeol owns me money.” Then you whacked him over the head. “Stop betting on me!” “It earns me money,” he said, sticking out his tongue. “Yah! I should put taxes on it or something, I want 10 percent.” You narrowed your eyes. He laughed. “Deal.” Suddenly there was a shout from somewhere, startling both Baekhyun and you as it was followed by a large bang.

Jongdae pov

Why he went he wasn’t sure, but soon enough he’d found Kyungsoo in his room, lounging on the bed, reading some sort of book. Jongdae loudly cleared his voice in the doorway, startling the other. He was raging, fuming, with an emotion that seemed unfamiliar to him. He was over by Kyungsoo within a second and the other cautiously stepped off the bed. “What the fuck, were you thinking?” he growled, low, dangerous. Kyungsoo was struck with fear, he should be. “You crossed the line man, this is sick.” He was so close to having him against the wall, Kyungsoo knew what he was here for. “Jongdae, let me explain.” “Explain? EXPLAIN? Let you explain? Fuck you.” Without pure aim he connected his fist to Kyungsoo’s jaw, who staggered back and held the side of his face. “Fuck you! I trusted you! I trusted you with HER! AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!” he yelled. “You disgusting piece of shit!” Kyungsoo changed, Jongdae saw it, squaring his shoulders, standing up straight. “Get lost Jongdae.” He said, surprisingly calm. “Get lost?” Jongdae pointed an accusing finger at you. “There is not apology or explanation for this! THIS IS DISGUSTING! And if it wasn’t for her, I would’ve torn you to pieces right here. I don’t care how fucking buff you are, because this, this crossed the line.” His chest was heaving with anger and he cracked his knuckles loudly. “You’re not going to speak? Coward. Did your mother never teach you how to treat a girl?” Suddenly he found himself being slammed against a wall, held up by the collar of his shirt. Kyungsoo held him up, toes barely touching the floor. “Don’t you EVER, bring my mother into this again you fucker. You have NOTHING to do with this! Do you think I WANTED to hurt her? To do tha-“ The door slammed open and people jumped into the room. Jongdae’s eyes fell on you first, as you reached for Kyungsoo, arms around his waist to try and pull him back. “Kyungsoo stop.” You said calmly, “Let him go.” But he didn’t budge he was shaking with rage. “Kyungsoo.” You said. Jongdae wanted to open his mouth but you shot him a bone chilling glare. “Don’t you dare say another word Kim Jongdae.” You spat. Kyungsoo took a deep breath, and she reached up, clasping a hand over his eyes. “Kyungsoo, calm down.” You grabbed one of his wrists with your other hand and pulled him back. He stumbled, and Chanyeol and Baekhyun were there to help her get him out of the room. He wanted to follow them, a hand at his chest stopped him. “Don’t think about it.” Jongdae’s eyes stared straight into Xiumin’s. “Don’t touch me.” “He’ll beat you to a pulp, and she’ll never forgive you.” Jongdae narrowed his eyes. “You knew?” “I suspected.” “You let it happen.” “It’s her life, trust her, she’ll fix it.” He said calmly. Jongdae slapped away his hand. “Go away, I don’t need you to lecture me on how to treat her.” The elder held his hands up in defens and strolled out of the room. You returned, and he watched you. “What the fuck Jongdae.” You said, closing the door behind you. “I told you not to go for it.” “HE FUCKING BRUISED YOU! ANGEL! Where’s your head at?” he said. She scoffed. “Don’t tell me that. I know where my head’s at, you’re the ones that going around like a headless chicken. Sit down.” “I’m not sitting down.” “Fine.” “Fine.” “Jongdae you’re behaving like a little kid.” You snarled, and he felt the sting but passed it on. “I told you to let me explain.” “Angel, that’s abuse, and you know it.” He stated it plainly, breathing through his nose. “You know it, and you’re ignoring it. Are you dumb?” You rolled your eyes and it made him only the more angry. “You don’t understand!” “I DO! YOU’RE PICKING HIS SIDE! “OH STOP! I’m picking MY side.” He scoffed, loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your side, of course y/, do the rogue thing.” “Oh come on Jongdae, this has nothing to do with me being a rogue! This is about me and Kyungsoo trying to fucking work through this. And you’re only making it worse for me!” “Oh? OH!? Now it’s my fault?” “You punched him in the face, and obviously did something to piss him off! You should’ve waited for me to explain things to you. You’re making overhasty conclusions right now.” “He deserved it.” Jongdae spat, cocking his chin up. “Piece of shit, I don’t understand how you can be so stupid as to trust him, you should know better Angel. Especially you.” You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t make that comparison, you made me promise I wouldn’t, and you shouldn’t either.” “Looks pretty much the same to me.” With a loud groan your tangled your hands in your hair. “You know, something is up with him. Something happened to him, I have no idea when, or what. But it’s eating him alive and it’s turning into this pent up anger that he can’t control. He’s mad at himself, at the world. He’s scared Jongdae, afraid, sad, grieving, hurt. He didn’t mean to hurt me it was an accident.” Jongdae’s words left his mouth before he knew it. “Oh bullshit. Is that what you used to say about the previous one, back when? That he didn’t mean to? Tha-” He was met with your palm slapping his straight across the face. It stung, and it was hard, you didn’t hold back. He touched his cheek, looking down to the side. With a click of his jaw he stood up straight, giving you one last look before he moved towards the door. He missed the hurt look on your face. You reached out for him but he pulled away. “Don’t, I know where I stand Angel.”

Angel pov

You watched him leave, with the sting left on your palm from where you’d slapped him. Tears welling up in your eyes in a mixture of anger and regret. You clasped a hand over your mouth and fought back a sob. The door opened again, and you flinched away from it. A pair of familiar arms wrapped around your waist. “I’m so sorry Angel.” Kyungsoo mumbled into your hair. It broke you, and you cried into his chest. He lifted you to the bed, and sat down with you. He held you until you calmed down a little and then he pulled back and wiped the tears from under your eyes. “What happened?” he whispered. “It’s not your fault.” You croaked, coughing a bit. “I’m sorry he attacked you like that.” “I deserved it.” Kyungsoo said and you shook your head at him. “What happened Angel?” You wiped away another tear. “I…he said something and I just…I made me so angry and I slapped him across the face and he left. God, Kyungsoo…We never fought. Me and Jongdae. Ever.” And you knew it would make him guilty but you didn’t want to lie about it. “Please don’t feel bad. This is between Jongdae and me.” To your surprise he nodded, and just held you against his chest. “I just hate he made you cry.” “It was a team effort.” You mumbled. “I just hope he doesn’t go to do something stupid.” Kyungsoo rocked you from side to side a little. “I just…I got mad at him, I’m sorry. He said something nasty and I couldn’t help it.” “He’s a foulmouth when he gets mad. I’m surprised he punched you though. Are you okay?”   “I’m fine, it might not ever bruise. Punched me in the cheek.” And for that you were glad. You were afraid now, that he was going to do something stupid, or that he’d stay mad at you. His comment rang in your head, constantly, it scared you. Is that what you used to say about the previous one? It made you just want to curl up into a ball and disappear. This wasn’t the same, it wasn’t, and you almost had to whisper it out loud to believe it yourself. He’d created this doubt in your head that you’d pushed away just earlier. And you needed it to go away. “I think you need to close your eyes for a second.” Kyungsoo said, brushing a hand over your hair. “Here.” He helped you get under the sheets and followed you after. You placed your head on his chest and tried to even out your breaths to the sound of his steady heartbeat. It occurred to you that he’d been fuming when you found him. But here he was, calm, collected, taking care of you. Like he’d calmed down for you, and it made you happy. But after a long time of laying there with him playing with your hair, fingers skimming up and down your back, you found that you couldn’t sleep. “What time is it?” you yawned. “It’s 8pm, why?” “I…Is it okay if I go wait for him to come back?” He was silent like he needed to think about it for a little. “Yeah, of course.” You leant up on your elbows and looked at him. “Thank you Soo.” He smiled and kissed you. “It’s okay. I think I understand.” “Understand what?” “You and Jongdae, what you have.” There you were dumbfounded by his comment. “He’s trying to protect you, he cares about you, you care about him. Not in a romantic way necessarily but…I understand. Plus I have to go to work in an hour.” So you pressed a kiss to his cheek, mumbling another soft thanks and goodluck and left the room. The concrete floor of the hallways was ice cold under your feet, but Jongdae’s room was close. The familiar colours of white and grey on the walls left an unfamiliar sting. And you walked over to the bed. His dark red sweater was hanging over one of the bedposts, and you took it in your hands. The familiar soft material was cold, and you noticed that his window was open. So you closed it. You pulled your, or well, Kyungsoo’s sweater over your head and folded it on the chair. Jongdae’s sweater was on the bed, and you lifted it to your face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like him, he’d been wearing it to bed probably. Maybe still from the time you’d worn it when you slept in here. The last time you’d slept in here a long time. It worried you, almost like you were pulling apart. And you promised yourself then and there to not let that happen, as you pulled on the sweater and slipped your leggings off. The sheets were cold against your skin, and everything smelled like Jongdae. Like firewood and cinnamon and something musky and you were so filled with regret that you weren’t sure if you’d sleep till he was home, but you tried.

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