#his human husband will pay the fines and cheer him on

[ghostace]

this ☝ old charr 👴 is a menace ❌ wanted by the seraph 🚨 1300 firecrackers exploded 🧨 900 envelopes littered 🧧 485 roller beetles crashing on jennah's door 👸 disturber of the peace

[xhoneywheatx]

Family

Warnings: None Category: Fluff Summary: How I'd imagine a surprise visit from you and your daughter to Levi would go.

"Oh my gosh!" Hange excitedly cheered your name upon seeing you in the mess hall with your adorable 8-month-old daughter sleeping soundly on your chest in her harness. With a hand securely on your child's back, you waved at her with your other hand after placing your soup spoon in it's bowl. 

Hange scurried across the room and gave you her best side hug so as to not disturb the tiny human on your chest. "It's so good to see you here! How've you been?" She bombarded you with questions causing you to giggle behind your hand. You knew why she was so excited. It was your first time being here in the HQ building. You usually opted to stay home and tend to your cute little house with your husband in the Canaleth district with your growing child. You had been a part of the Survey Corps around two years ago, when you first found out about your pregnancy, and took the necessary precaution to hang up your Wings of Freedom for the time being. 

You helped out as much as you could, administratively, but when the morning sickness started bedridding you, Levi, as nicely as possible, ordered you to stay home. Since then, you really haven't been around much, only being in around the town you live it to keep your pregnancy as stress free as possible. Your husband was not one to argue with you either. 

"I'm fine Hange. So is the little one too!" You looked down at your precious daughter and began to feel her moving around in her harness at the sound of her name. "Oh! She's waking up!" Hange exclaimed slightly lowering herself to look at your baby. She opened her big beautiful eyes and stared into Hange's. "Oh, you got so big KK!" Hange's smile caused your daughter to lightly giggle despite being woken up. 

"Does he know you're here?" Hange asked meticulously fixing your daughter's sock that was halfway off her tiny little foot. "He doesn't. Thought I'd bring the baby here to surprise him. He's been so stressed and upset from not seeing us lately." You spoke brushing your child's dark curls out of her face. 

"That explains why he's been more grumpy." You and Hange giggled at the little insult. While you two were off in your own world, the doors to the mess hall opened and in came the cadets. Chatter began to build up as they all lined up to get their plates to get the much needed grub after sparring in the heat for the last two hours. 

You were so caught up in your conversation with Hange and your baby occasionally babbling as if she were in the conversation that you didn't notice three new faces sitting carefully sitting in front of you with curious eyes. It wasn't until you noticed your baby, now sitting with her back on your tummy, out of her harness, wasn't paying attention to you anymore. You looked down to follow her gaze and was met with piercing green, dark, and blue eyes.

"Oh, hello." You spoke with a smile on your face. The boy with the blue eyes and blonde hair adverted his eyes from your face with a pink blush on his cheeks. 

Cute, you thought.

"Hey guys!" Hange greeted. 

"S-section Commander Hange.." The boy with the green eyes and brown hair stuttered his greeting. They barely noticed her beside you munching on her own food that's gone a bit cold from how long it's been there. "Eren, Mikasa, Armin." Hange addressed each of the kids before getting up to dispose of her plate, telling you she'd be back in a jiffy. 

"W-who are you? I-I've never seen you around here..." The blue eyed boy, you now knew as Armin, asked timidly. After studying their faces a bit more, you realized that they couldn't have been over 15 years old. Such a young age to join- the Survey Corps at that. The thought made your heart tighten a little. You slightly wondered what could have caused these kids to join at such a young age. 

However, your thoughts were cut short when... "Yeah! Are you a cadet like us?" The boy with the bright green eyes, now Eren, asked rather excitedly. 

"Eren." The girl, Mikasa, warned. 

So, she's the protective type, you gauged. 

With a smile on your face, you happily spoke up while letting your daughter nibble on her teething ring making the cutest noises in your arms. You felt a little drool on your hand that held her in place, but you ignored it. "I am- well, used to be, Squad Leader Adachihara-"

"Used to be? You were in the scouts?" Eren cut you off. 

"Eren," Mikasa started. "It's rude to cut people off." She chastised. The boy went on to defend himself, explaining to her that he's just curious when you chimed back in to diffuse the little disagreement. "It's okay," You held your hand up before continuing. "I got pregnant with my daughter about two years ago. Pregnant soldiers aren't allowed to be in the ranks as a soldier let alone a Squad Leader." You explained. 

Naturally, your eyes drifted to Mikasa and you saw a ghost of a blush color her face. 

At the mention of your child, the three of them looked down at her, who was lost in her own world wiggling and giggling in your arms, occasionally waving her teething ring around. You noticed Armin's gaze lingered on her for a bit longer than the others, almost as if he were studying her. A few compliments later and you five were engaging in a rather informative conversation for the cadets. You answered as many questions as you could so as to not scare them but prepare them for the world beyond the walls. Hange even threw in a 15-minute spiel about how fascinating titans were before leaving to grab a cup of coffee. 

"If you don't mind me asking miss," Armin started. You gave him your name which caused another bloom of pink to dust his cheeks after correcting himself. "... um, where are you from?" You knew the question would come up sooner or later. "Well, long story short, my family has always been here on Paradis. My clan just resides in the Canaleth district. We all have darker skin a curly hair like mine. If you've never been to the district, you'll probably live your entire life without knowing we exist." Your smile grew a bit wider once you read his question a bit deeper. "If you're asking why I look different from you three, I'm not sure, but that doesn't make me any different." You raised your eyebrows at him as he panicked telling you that's not at all what he meant. 

During his apology that honestly made you giggle, Hange returned and sat back down with a wide grin on her face. 

"Sorry it took so long. I just ran into your husband and Erwin." 

You looked down at your daughter who was already peering up at you. "You hear that baby, Daddy's here." You grinned. "Da!" She exclaimed before turning her little head around to search for him. Her excitement warmed your heart. She was definitely a daddy's girl. 

"You're married to someone here?" Eren asked, shocked at the new information presented to him. You nodded at him. "Did you know that Section Commander?" Armin asked after Eren. Hange nodded before reaching her hands out to your baby. She began grabbing the air at Hange and leaned over to her saying, "Mmmm! Mmmm!" telling you to let her go. You gave her up and watched as she immediately began playing in Hange's wild hair. 

"Who is it?" 

Hange looked over at you and winked, causing you to blush. "You'd never guess!" She exclaimed. Eren looked between Mikasa and Armin before looking back at you. "Is it the Commander?" Mikasa asked. He seemed to be a family man. It was the most logical answer to her. At the mention of his name, your nose turned up in disgust. 

"Uh-uh." You shook your head before taking a drink of water from your glass. "Erwin is like my brother." You spoke freely, choosing not to address him as the commander. You never did anyway so why start now?

"Is it the weird guy that smells everything?" Eren asked earning a glare from Mikasa at his careless words to describe a higher up. "Mike?" You made a face before shaking your head again. You looked towards Armin who had his gaze set on your daughter again. "Your daughter looks very familiar. She almost looks like Cap-"

"What are you three doing?" A familiar voice spoke from behind your left shoulder causing you to look over along with your daughter and Hange. Immediately, your daughter began bouncing up and down from excitement and grabbed at the air for him.

"Da! Da!" 

"Captain Levi is your husband?!" Eren exclaimed causing a bit of attention to land on your table. 

"And what of it Jeager? Got a problem?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at the young boy. "Da! Da!" Your daughter was now trying to lean over Hange's shoulder, who was laughing at their shocked expressions as Levi gently scooped him daughter up in his arms and settled her on his hip as she tried her best to wrap her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. 

You saw the faint curve of his lips upward at the gesture and planted a kiss on her forehead. 

"N-No sir!" Eren exclaimed, scrambling to his feet to give him a salute. 

"Get outta here brat. You've pestered my wife and child enough." 

You giggled at his brashness. It reminded you of how things were before you took maternity leave. Levi hasn't changed much since you left. Well, at work. At home, he was completely different. Clingy, soft, and most importantly, a little happier. 

Eren scurried off with Armin leaving Mikasa to fight back an eye roll at their skittishness. She gathered their forgotten plates and slightly bowed to the table before leaving your little group alone. 

"I'll go find them." Hange offered before taking her cup of half-finished coffee with her leaving you and Levi. 

"Da!"

And Kuchel. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked hearing his voice soften tremendously. No matter where you two were, sparring, in a meeting, or even slicing through 15 meter titans, Levi always seemed to talk to you in a softer tone, expressing his admiration for you this way. You noticed his eyes would soften upon speaking to his squad, Hange, and Erwin, but the look never reached his tone. 

It was his way of telling you that you were special to him. The only other person he did this for was Kuchel- who was stuffing Levi's cravat in her tiny little fist trying to put it in her mouth. The action made you laugh a little while trying to contain your blush from his undivided attention. His eyes haven't left you since he sat down, only when pulling something inedible from your daughter's stubby hands knowing she'd put it in her mouth. 

"You haven't been home lately," You attempted to hold his loving gaze noticing him taking in your appearance. His beautiful grey eyes scanned your pretty face noticing the little details such as you filling out your eyebrows some, a different lip gloss that had hints of glitter, and the fact that you actually used the mascara you purchased a few weeks ago. 

"...so I..." you lost your train of thought getting lost in his eyes. Your heartrate sped up slightly and your breathing became slightly irregular. You were sure the cherry blush on your face darkened to crimson the longer you held his gaze. Unable to withstand the pressure, you adverted your eyes and took a quick deep breath, telling yourself to calm down. 

How he still had this effect on you four years later was beyond you. 

"Cat got your tongue sweetheart?" He teased, lowering his voice to keep your conversation private considering the number of unwanted eyes on you two following Eren's outburst. 

"Levi." You whined, feeling your temperature spiking at the intimate name. He laughed, making it sound more like a scoff to go unnoticed by the cadets and an eavesdropping Hange. 

"Ma! Ma! Mmmm! Mmmm!" Kuchel began to whine and wriggle in Levi's arms making grabby hands at you, well... your boobs. She was hungry. Levi immediately noticed this and ushered his little family into his private quarters on the fourth floor and helped you get comfortable before going to find Erwin. After taking much longer than he wanted, he finally found the blonde tucked away in the library nose deep in a history book. From there, he told the commander of the surprise visit where Erwin smiled a genuine smile for the first time in a long time. Not having a family of his own yet, he was happy for Levi and granted him the rest of the day off to catch up on the much-needed family time. 

Levi graciously accepted and went back to his quarters to tell you the good news. Upon arriving back and opening the door, he realized just how long he had been gone. You were laying on you side with your breasts exposed so your daughter could eat comfortably, but upon further investigation, he realized that you two fell asleep like that. 

With a small smile on his face, Levi locked the door and pulled out a change of clothes and headed into the bathroom to change. Upon putting his uniform in the dirty clothes hamper, he exited the bathroom and placed a pillow on the other side of your daughter, on the edge of the bed, in case she got a little wild during her nap. He then carefully crawled on the bed behind you, pulling your shirt and sports bra down in the process. 

He gently pulled you into his chest, leaving a little space between you and Kuchel to give her some space, and buried his nose in your pineapple bun, enjoying the scent of coconut oil and your peppermint shampoo. Levi didn't nap with you two, but instead chose to enjoy the little intimate moment in the quiet. 

It was in this moment that Levi forgot what lied on the outside walls. All that went through his head in this moment was how lucky he was to have the God above bless him with the two most important women in his life. It made him all the more excited to give you more children, to live with you for the rest of his life. He was genuinely happy. 

[valhargreeves]

Corintheus at cereal convention except it went differently,

Dream entered the hall with a name tag.

A nametag like all the guests were wearing. Of course The Corinthian had been surprised when he spotted Dream mid speech but no more shocked than the fact that what was said on Dream's nametag.

It said, "HELLO, I am The Corinthian's Husband."

Fucking hell, his face immediately turned red in irritation and embarrassment. He got off the stage abruptly and walking angrily to Dream. "What is this?"

"This is... me." Dream twirled his long ass coat, showing it off and smiling softly for a millisecond. "I'm not sure what you are referring to."

"No." He facepalmed, then pointed to the nametag. "That. What do you think you're doing?"

Dream had the audacity to look like a sad wet kitten that Cori didn't appreciate the dramatic long coat.

"Well....I needed one to get in-"

"No you fucking didn't you know that! Of course you followed that kind of rules."

"I may be a king, but I still have to be polite upon entering someone's...territory." Dream stated like it's the most important thing at the moment, when they both know their reunion is of destruction and unmaking, and revenge.

"Not the point, but you're fucking embarrassing me right now. What were you thinking?"

"Tch. Language, Corinthian."

Cori pulled his hair in frustration.

"Surely it isn't so bad... they all know...that you're gay?"

"Of course they know!"

"Then I don't see what seems to be the problem." Dream shrugged.

A silence.

"I have gotten married before, I know how to be a husband. If people got suspicious." convinced Dream. LIKE THAT WOULD HELP. AND NOT THE POINT.

"Nah, all your lovers left you."

Dream's face darkened in silent rage. If he kept going Dream wouldn't hesitate to unmake him right away.

"Sorry. Uh."

"It's...fine." Dream waved away.

"I'm learning to be forgiving. And... my husband would stay, wouldn't he?" There goes the threat. He only realized the crowd were paying attention to them the whole time when they made an "awww" sound. Someone yelled "just say yes dumbass or I'll steal that twink!" Remind Corinthian to kill that bitch later.

"Okay. I'll stay. And come home." The crowd cheered in support as Dream's face brightened in happiness. He attempted to smile as an angel would but failed miserably. Dream's smile isn't beautiful, they're scary as hell and Cori didn't know if the king ever noticed some people weren't made to smile. However the reward is appreciated just the same, he'd take what he could get.

"That's what I thought."

Another day, another Dream of the Endless getting whatever the hell he wanted.

-

Some other day;

Again, they're in the Waking world. They've compromised that Corinthian would no longer hunt down the humans. Unless they really, really deserved it. Dream could look the other way every once in a while.

Some rando who is Corinthian's fan: Hello, Corinthian I'm a fan of your works!

Cori: thanks

Them: and this is...? (They look at Dream)

Dream: you don't know who am I?

Them: no...am I supposed to?

Cori: (please, please control your temper. Don't cause a scene in the Waking world.)

Dream: I'm the Corinthian's Husband. 😊

[spidercookie18]

Hey there @spidercookie18 I have a request for you! It’s about max wanting to “spend some quality time” with the boys and takes them to a bar and the boys not having any money makes max pay for their drinks and they get very drunk to the point where they don’t want to leave the bar and max have to drug them out the bar which leads to them having temper tantrums like they are children and causing a seen on the boardwalk!

If you want to do it! 😅

Summary: Max feels bad about not bonding with the boys, and invites them out to the bars. Word Count: 5.7k Tags: Implied drug use, drinking, mild homophobia/racism, mild gore, swearing.

Sorry for taking literally (hypothetically) forever to answer this. I actually had a bit of a hard time wrapping my head around it bc I’ve had to drag people out of the bar before and it is a...not fun experience. But! I’ve also had some really fun experiences being kicked out; just cause me and my buddies were being headass and harassing the bouncers. I do really like this concept (any concept of the boys absolutely fucking with Max and his money), it was really fun to write. Again, sorry for the late response. <3

Max stood on the porch outside his home. He rubbed the brass key between his thumb and his index; almost unwilling to walk inside. He heard the soft sound of the tv and the clinking of dishes. Lucy was insistent on having home cooked meals; it gave her some ease by reminding her of who she used to be.

He exhaled slowly; putting the key into the lock and turning the knob. He was immediately greeted by the warm smell of Lucy’s cooking, her humming became a cheerful, “hi, how was work?”

Max grumbled some kind of, “fine,” and walked off to avoid his wife. Thorn wagged his tail as Max walked past him too, hoping for some kind of recognition from his master and best friend. The old vampire walked off to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands in defeat.

His mind wandered to the young family that came into the store that night, hoping to rent something all six of them could watch together; a mother, father, and four young boys.

He recalls greeting them, and offering some help picking a movie, relating to them through the fact he also had four boys.

He watched as the boys ran through the aisles of the store, grabbing and shouting at everything they saw. The mother apologized profusely, and Max assured her it was no problem.

Max: They’re quite a handful at that age.

Dad: You have no idea

Max: Actually, I do.

Max pulls out his wallet and shows the father a picture of his four ‘sons’.

Dad: Oh wow, does it get any easier?

Max chuckles as he puts his wallet away. He continues to speak in his friendly demeanor.

Max: Not in the slightest.

Dad: That’s tough to hear. They were so cute when they were little, but it’s tough now that they have all this energy.

Max: Oh, I know how that is!

Dad: …how do you keep up with them? I mean, they never want to spend any time with me anymore…

Max stared off at the four boys tearing through his store, a nightmare for their mother.

Max continued to sit on the bed. He heard the sound of Thorn scratching at the bedroom door. “Go away Thorn,” he sighed, apathetically.

A soft knock came soon after. Lucy slowly opened the door and poked her head into the room to check on Max. There was a soft patting of her slippers on the floor as she walked over to her husband. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

Max groaned, not looking up from his hands. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. Lucy did not close the door when she came in, and Thorn was now nudging his wet dog nose into Max’s lap. “Thorn, get down,” Max protested. His furry friend sat by his feet and continued to whine and poke his nose at his master’s legs.

Lucy: Max?

Max: It’s just the boys…

Lucy: What did they do this time.

Max:

Max: Nothing, I just feel like I’m failing as a father. I mean a proper ‘human’ father.

Lucy: What do you mean?

Max: There was this family that came into the store, and the father asked how I stayed close with my boys.

Lucy: And? What did you tell him?

Max: Well, I’m close with David but-

Lucy: Are you?

Max: What do you mean?

Lucy: Are you actually close with David?

Max sat, dumbfounded. Staring at the dog by his feet. Thinking about the meaning of Lucy’s words.

Max: Well, he listens to me.

Lucy: But are you close?

Max: I suppose not. But what do you expect me to do? They never listen to me! Every time I’ve tried to bond with them, they bite me, break my things, and run away!

Lucy: Well, maybe it’s time to do something they would like to do.

Max: …what do they like to do?

Lucy: Hm, maybe talk to Mike?

Max took Lucy’s counsel and sat down with Michael. He asked what his sons liked to do on their off time. Michael started rattling off a list, “speeding, stealing, fighting, f-cking, playing tricks on people, jacking cars, drinking, video games, I dunno man, just crimes in general.” After the short brainstorming, Max decided the best way to get them to open up would be by loosening them up with drinks. Michael immediately let him know that was a terrible idea and advised that they go on a hunt instead.

“No no, a father knows best,” Max stood firm on his decision. He wanted him and his boys to rekindle their relationship at their favorite bar.  

Michael saw the boys before Max did, and he let them know what their father figure intended for them.

The little devils immediately started scheming. They decided that if Max was insistent on ‘hanging out with them,’ they were going to do their damndest to make him regret it.

A few nights later, Max informed David that they were to wait for him outside their bar… and also, he wanted to know where it was. David, still half skeptical Max would be stupid enough to do something like this, asked if he was sure he could keep up.

Max assured him he wanted to enjoy some ‘fatherly bonding’ with his broodlings and that he could keep up with the way the boys drank.

David half felt bad for his sire. He was sure he had no idea what he was really getting himself into. David insisted to Max that ‘their bar’ was something he should work his way up to and told him the name of a different bar. Max agreed, and when the day came, he waited outside of the bar David told him to.

He made sure to tell the boys to be there before he did. He told them be there at 8, which meant they would show up at 9. He didn’t want to wait for them long, and he stood on the corner by the edge of the bar.

Max was incredibly nervous. He knew the boys didn’t like to be around him for more than a few minutes. Hell, he couldn’t remember a time where they’d willingly hung out with him.

Max stood anxiously, his back to the alley. He almost felt bad for choosing to go on the weekend as there was a short line of people beginning to form outside the bar. He was listening for the boys’ bikes; anxiously waiting for them to show, but they dropped in on the ground behind him. The gravel in the alley shifting under their heavy boots. David clasped a hand on Max’s back, startling him.

David: Woaah, didn’t mean to scare ya, old timer.

Max: Oh, boys, it’s just you.

David: Were you expecting someone else?

Max: Well no, bu-

Marko: I’m thirsty! Let’s go in already.

Marko pushed through the crowd of people, with Paul and Dwayne following close behind him. The humans huffed and shouted as the biker boys walked through the line. The short, curly haired blond stood in front of the bouncer, who was waiting for their ID’s.

Max stood behind the boys, waiting to see what they would do. Marko pulled something out of his pocket. Max couldn’t see what it was, but he assumed it was a fake ID. They were much too old to have a ‘proper’ ID, something that their human documents wouldn’t be able to give them. The bouncer was tall, and burly. He was a young man, but his presence did a good job at warding off troublemakers.

The human man held the card up to the light under the doorway and turned it in his hands. He bent it a bit, then handed it back to Marko and gestured for him to go inside. Paul stepped up next, and as his sons slowly went into the bar, Max could hear the music inside get louder. He got a peak into the building as Dwayne went through the door. David pushed Max ahead of him, trying to make sure he didn’t chicken out at the last second.

The bouncer waited impatiently for Max to retrieve his ID from his wallet. He handed the card to the man and the human looked suspiciously at Max and his picture.

“I assure you; I’m legally allowed to drink.” Max tried to ease his nerves with a joke.

The bouncer didn’t laugh. This only helped to make Max more uneasy. The human handed the card back to Max, “you look good for 63.”

David snickered behind Max, and the older, embarrassed vampire stepped out of the way. David tried to hand his ID to the bouncer, but the man declined. “Please David, I know you. I just had to make a show for all the damn people you guys pushed out of the way.”

 “S’my bad, Kev, we’re taking our gramps out on the town,” David chided. “The boys are just excited.” David dapped up the bouncer, and the human moved to hold the door open for David and Max.

Max followed David into the bar. It was a dimly lit, low end lounge bar. There was a green under light wrapped around the length of the bar, which Marko, Dwayne, and Paul were already at. The floor was some type of cheap vinyl faux wood, and there was a half stage at the back of the room. The place was moderately packed for a Saturday night.

David leaned over the counter to grab something from behind the bar, and the green haired bartender immediately snapped at him.

David: Woah, take it easy, stud. It’s just one bottle.

Bartender: Not tonight, David, my boss is up my ass about givin’ you guys free stuff.

David: Well darlin’, if you didn’t want me around, you wouldn’t keep the bottle chilled for me.

The bartender rolled his eyes and continued to pour shots out that Marko had already ordered.

Paul: We’re celebrating tonight, we got our ‘daddy’ with us. Paul snickered.

Max: Oh, no, please don’t call me that. I’m their father.

Dwayne: So, just put it all on his tab.

Dwayne, Paul, and Marko turned to Max, waiting for him to pull his credit card out.

Max: Ah, yes. I invited you boys out, so… I suppose it’s my treat.

The bartender took the card and dropped the five shots in front of David.

Marko: Drink up, ‘daddy’.

Max grimaced, and watched the boys take their shots like it was nothing. He looked down at the clear liquid as it gently swayed inside the glass. He crinkled his nose and knocked back the shot.

Max: Holy f-wow! I forgot how hot that was. Max coughed.

David: Ha-ha, how long has it been since you drank? David twisted the cap off the bottle of jaeger he got from behind the bar.

Max: Gee, I don’t know… He watched as David called the bartender back from the other end of the bar.

Bartender: What do you want? He sighed.

David: So mean tonight. Does somebody need an attitude adjustment? He raised his eyebrow and flashed his toothy smile. Just give me that Red Bull back there, I don’t think I can reach it.

Paul: Oh, and those beers I like!

The bartended grabbed two Red Bulls from the mini fridge behind the bar and handed them to David. He turned and grabbed five long neck bottles and popped the caps off for them.

David: Thanks, hot stuff. David winked at him.

David finished pouring out the jaeger bombs and him and the boys eagerly gobbled them up. Max was not nearly as eager as his ‘sons’, but decided to drink; wanting to keep up the appearance of comradery.

He immediately gagged the second the liquid finished flowing down his throat.

David and the boys laughed at him.

“Christ! What was that?” He continued to gag.

 “Yeaaaaah, you’ll get used to that.” Paul joked. They moved to a high table near the back of the bar, and once they were seated, David poured another round of shots.

Max tried to make small talk with his sons, but he had no idea where to start. The boys were not much help easing the tension; especially with Dwayne eyeing Max the way he was.

David assured him it was just because they weren’t used to being around him. Which was true. David was the first turned. He spent almost 40 years with Max, so he was used to the uncomfortable silence. But the others had David, they had each other. After they were turned, they never had to worry about being alone in a room with Max; they never learned to be comfortable around him. He sat quietly, and sipped on his beer.

Max shifted nervously in his seat. Unsure how to break the ice. He tried to think of some of the conversation pieces he’d memorized earlier in the week, but the liquor in his system seemed to keep them from his grasp.

The boys had no problem entertaining themselves though. Marko and Paul were taking turns pulling down the zipper of some girl that was dancing near them. They were not doing this physically, no, they were employing their magic to pull on her zipper.

After a few minutes, in her drunken state, she’d seemed to have danced her dress off. She shrieked and picked up her dress around her body. But the devil twins, chortled at her Spanx. 

“Oh, don’t start,” David half groaned, half laughed.

Max turned around to see the lady duck and scream into the bathroom. “What just happened?”

“Oh? You wanna see it again?” Marko grinned deviously. He turned back around and yanked a young man’s pants down. His stained underwear exposed to the bar.

Dwayne and Paul laughed at him. Max turned to the table, confused how they were so eagerly playing pranks on the bar patrons.

“You don’t worry about being caught?”

They scrunched their faces at him, confused by his nervousness. “Dude, shut up,” Marko sneered. He turned David’s bottle over and poured out another round of shots.

“Just drink,” Paul reassured him. They all knocked back another round. Max was really starting to feel a buzz through his body. He watched as the boys continued to subtly mess with the patrons around them.

In his half-drunk state, he felt his lips begin to loosen. “How did you boys get IDs?”

“We don’t have IDs?” David said, puzzled. “Oh, you mean,” him and the others began to pull their wallets out.

They showed Max varying plastic cards. David had the driver’s license of a woman from Idaho. Marko had a blood donor card he stole from a young man’s wallet. Paul had an In-N-Out gift card, and Dwayne had a casino Player’s card.

Max stared at the boys’ ‘IDs’ in amazement. He’d always been envious of their magic. Moreso than he would ever admit. Ever since they were turned, he could feel their potential exceed his. Especially in David. His magic was more potent and more powerful than he could have ever hoped to be. And that’s part of why he was so hard on him.

Unfortunately for Max’s ego, letting them run wild only let their magic grow wild too.

Max’s train of thought was derailed by the sound of blaring music. The ambiance that the bar was playing was completely drowned out by the DJ booth.

“Ugh!” Marko groaned, “he’s back.”

Max covered his ears, the loud, piercing music hurting his sensitive vampire ears. The boys all winced with how loud the pop music was playing. Their ears twitched and they turned to look at the DJ that was playing a combination latin dance and country music.

“Is it 10 already?” Paul whined.

“This guy suuuuucks!” Dwayne hissed. Dwayne and Marko started loudly booing the DJ. Uncaring of his feelings, and the scene they were making.

“Hey knock it off!” The bartender hollered at them.

David made no move to stop his brothers. He just twisted the cap back on his mostly full jaeger bottle, and got up.

Paul followed David, and Max, not wanting to stay with the other two who were yelling and arguing with the DJ, followed David as well.

Max stood outside on the sidewalk behind David and Paul. David handed the large bottle of jaeger to Paul and pulled his cigarettes out.

“Was that it? Are we done being at the bars?” Max asked the two blond boys.

Paul belted, “not a chance,” he patted his stomach, “we’re just done with that bar.”

David lit the cigarette in his mouth and put his lighter back in his pocket. He half turned to Paul, stepping aside away from the line of people, “where do you wanna go next?”

Paul shrugged, thinking for a second. He picked at the wet label on the side of the bottle that was starting to peel. “Hey, what about X?”

David nodded silently, a soft smile held the lit cig, the smoke twirling up towards the streetlight. They waited there for Marko and Dwayne to finish harassing the DJ, and when they strolled out of the bar, Dwayne showed David he managed to grab some wallets from the other bar-goers. 

David chuckled, “we’re going to X’s,” he said plainly, ashing the cigarette and holding it at his side between his fingers.

“Hell yeah!” Marko started pumping his fists into the air. He jogged across the street to the park, he planned to cut through the park on the way to the next bar. “Ducks! Ducks! Ducks!” He started chanting, and the others followed him across the street.

“You leave those ducks alone!” Dwayne shouted. They watched Marko jog off into the distance, a good bit ahead of the group.

“Ducks?” Max asked David.

The blond slowly puffed on his cigarette as they strolled through the dark park. “Yeah, Marko likes to… feed the ducks at the pond.”

Max was confused by his disposition. Feeding the ducks sounded fun and wholesome. Something he didn’t think his sons were capable of.

They soon happened upon the pond in the middle of the park. Marko was already crouched down petting some of the ducks. They quacked softly as they formed a half circle around him. As they got closer, Max heard a noise coming from Marko, it was a half gagging, half clicking noise. He noticed the other boys didn’t stop to watch their brother. They walked around the pond and continued to sip on the alcohol they took from the bar.

Max stood a bit behind Marko, and he heard the noise get louder. He decided to walk to where the other boys were, his unease making him wander away. When he was further in front of Marko, he turned back to watch him regurgitate something for the ducks.

Max stood, horrified. As his second eldest spat up eyeballs for the greedy ducks below him. He could hear the other boys laughing ahead of him, but he was transfixed on Marko. The slimy, goopy liquid that came out like thick maple syrup, it coated the soft wet eyeballs and sloshed when it hit the ducks and ground.

Dwayne and David were laughing at their sire, he was stuck watching the littlest vampire, and the nasty thing he was doing.

“Yeah, we’re pretty sure that’s where geese come from,” Paul chuckled.

Max watched as Marko bent to pet another duck and then sprinted to catch up with the rest of the group. Max was a bit afraid of him now, and the display he just watched.

“God, I think I need another drink.” Max spoke, distressed.

David shoved the bottle into his hand, and Max eagerly put it to his lips.

The next bar laid ahead of them. This bar was very loud compared to the last one. It appeared to have several garage doors and a wraparound patio. The walls, or garage doors, were open, and the flashing lights and pop music was very noticeable from the park. As they walked up to the bar, Max noticed the very long line that seemed to be 30 or 40 people deep.

Paul was the first to walk up to the bouncer.

“Long time no see, X, how you been?” Paul put what Max thought were some cigarettes into his hand and did the same weird handshake he saw David do at the last bar.

The bouncer nodded, “can’t complain, s’good to see ya brother.”

“Likewise, man,” Paul patted the human’s forearm and walked past him, he waited near the bouncer for Max and the others.  Max noticed as each brother walked past, they did the funky handshake. Max was unsure what to do, he stood in front of the bouncer who eyed him suspiciously.

“Back of the line sir,” the bouncer sternly spoke.

“He’s with us!” Dwayne hollered over the music as he walked inside.

The bouncer gestured for Max to go inside, his demeanor changing immediately. He moved his hand to his jeans to pocket the spliffs that Paul handed him when Max put his hand out.

“Thanks…homie.” Immediately as the words left his mouth, he knew that was wrong. The bouncer just stared at him, his smile fading.

Paul immediately came to collect Max, “sorry, he doesn’t get out much.” He apologized for his sire’s ignorant behavior.

As the two walked into the building to meet the others at the bar, Paul tried to correct Max. “Hey, you can’t talk to strangers like that, it’s not cool man.”

“But Marko said it,” Max tried to defend himself.

“Yea, but they’re friends.” Paul gently shoved Max to the bar, the wood hitting him in the sternum.

Now he felt bad emotionally, and physically. He knew he embarrassed himself, but he didn’t want to embarrass the boys. He knew how bad it felt to be embarrassed by someone you know; he didn’t want to make them look bad. Paul stood next to his brothers, and leaned in to tell them what Max’d done.

“He said what?” Marko shouted.

Max groaned. The bartender finally made her way to Max and the boys.

Bartender: What can I get for you?

Max: Um…just one sec.

He turned to the boys who were arguing amongst themselves. The bartender groaned as she was about to move on to the next people in line. Noticing her out of the corner of his eye, Marko stepped up to the counter.

Marko: Lemmie get three red bulls, fou- five adios, and a double of Malört.

David: And five Coors.

The bartender made a face at Marko, then shrugged, and started making the drinks. Max placed his card on the counter and waited for the bartender to drop off the drinks.

Max: What’s Malört?

Paul: A punishment.

Max: Pun-for what?

Paul: You know what you did.

Max:

Marko: Take your Malört first then you can wash it down with an adios.

Max: What’s in an adios?

Dwayne: You’ll find out.

The bartender dropped off the drinks and took the card. David signaled for her to keep it open, and she put it back in front of them after she swiped it. Max sniffed the Malört and felt his eyes begin to water.

Max: I do not want to drink this.

Paul: It’s not that bad, just do it.

Max unwillingly took the shot. The second it touched his tongue he immediately felt like he was going to throw up.

Dwayne: If you hurl, we go home.

Marko: Do it! You know you want to.

David: Is he gonna do it?

Paul: I think he’s gonna do it!

Max swallowed hard, and panted, trying to fight away the urge to throw up. His stomach felt hot and painful. Like he’d just taken a punch to the gut, or like he just drank bile.

Max: I thought you said that wasn’t going to be bad??

Paul: Oh yeah, I lied.

Marko: Don’t be a wuss, just keep drinking and it’ll go away.

The boys picked up the red bulls and their drinks and walked over to a booth by the dance floor. Max swayed uneasily side to side. He was a vampire, sure, but he wasn’t used to this heavy drinking. It was really starting to get to him. He played with the straw in the blue drink and felt a flush come to his face. The boys took notice of his demeanor, and how he giggled at the colored strobing lights overhead.

David: You good?

Max:

Paul: You like your drink?

Max looked down at the blue drink. He put the straw in his mouth and eagerly sipped on it.

Max: Wow this is way better than that other thing!

Dwayne: Why did you want to hang out with us?

Max: Because you’re my sons.

Marko: But you’ve never treated us like your sons.

Max: … I know. And I’m sorry for that.

TLB:

Max:

David: So now you want to play ‘house’?

Max: No, no. I…I always wanted a family. I just…I’m envious of you boys.

TLB: The boys looked at each other, unsure of Max’s honesty.

Marko: Why would you be envious of us?

Max: You have each other, You’re brothers, peers. You’re never alone, and you are all so strong, and intelligent, and young.

David: Well, you’re 200 years older than us. You made us to be sons not peers.

Max: I was young when I set my mind out to have a family… I thought it would be easier than this.

Marko: Well, you suck at being a dad.

Max: I know, I’m sorry. I know I never taught you anything about being a vampire. I… feel bad that you had to learn things by yourselves. Especially you, David.

David: Well, apology not accepted.

Max: But-

David cut him off, his tone of voice angry, holding back his rage as best he could, David spat at Max.

David: You were a shitty sire for 200 years. One “I’m sorry,” and a few beers isn’t going to make it okay.

Max:

TLB:

The group sipped on their beers, and Max continued to sip on his blue drink. He felt so low in that moment. Maybe it was a mistake to try and bond with the boys after all this time.

David stood up, taking his beer with him to the patio to go smoke. Marko and Dwayne nudged each other, trying to break free from the uncomfortable silence. The two stood and walked over to the dance floor, trying to find partners for the night.

Max and Paul stayed at the booth, nervously avoiding eye contact. Max watched the curly haired blond and the brunet quickly find a pair of red head coeds. After a few minutes of grinding and bumping, the girls led the boys out to the parking lot.

Max stared at them, confused. “Wait, I thought you boys were still….” He asked Paul, too embarrassed to say the word.

“Homos?” Paul chuckled at Max’s embarrassment. He took a long sip of his beer as they watched the two vampires and their ‘dates’ duck behind some cars. “Papa, your baby boys are whores, s’all you need to know.”

“Huh,” Max stared off in the direction of the parking lot. “You boys really just do whatever you want?”

Paul turned his attention away from the cars and switched from drinking his beer to the adios. “Yup, s’a pretty sweet life,” Paul looked over to the front of the bar, he noticed X leave his post and waved him over to where he was sitting.

The bouncer leaned over the table a bit to talk to Paul, “where’d everybody go?”

Paul snorted, “you know Dwayne.”

The bouncer smiled and gestured for the blond to follow him to the patio. Paul scooted from the booth and grabbed his drinks. He looked at Max, who sat by himself now, dejected. Paul invited him outside, he felt bad for the old guy.

He never had anything personal against Max. Paul, being the youngest, never actually spent any real time with Max. He just learned to avoid him because all the others seemed to distrust him.

Max cheered up a bit. On the way out the patio he apologized to the human. He felt weird apologizing to a human, but if he was someone important to the boys, then he was important.

The trio found David sitting outside, staring at the shaking cars in the parking lot. He was swirling his beer around, trying to ignore the emotions that tried to bubble to the surface.

They sat at a table with David, and he rolled his eyes when he saw Max was with them. Max sat across from David, next to Paul. X pulled the spliffs from his pocket and Paul handed him a lighter.

“Oh, Paul rolls your cigarettes?” He asked, too drunk to notice what it was.

The boys chuckled, “yeah, I roll his cigarettes.”

“Paul has a real steady hand,” X joked. He took a long inhale and handed the paper to Paul, who did the same.

The blond looked over at Max, “you wanna try?”

David scoffed, “he’s not into that kind of stuff.”

Max was on a mission to prove to David that he was more than he thought he was. The bleach blond vampire took the spliff from Paul and replaced the cigarette in his mouth with it.

David took a long drag and blew the smoke in Max’s face. His sire coughed, “I told you boys at the beginning,” he continued to cough, “I can hang.” David looked at Paul, who motioned for David to pass it to Max.

Max took what he thought was a ‘funny’ smelling cigarette. He took a long drag, like he’d seen the rest of the table do. He could taste the tobacco on his tongue, and as he took the smoke from his mouth down his lungs he tasted something else. The boys chided him on, encouraging him to hold it in his lungs as long as he could. Not that he needed to breathe, but he started coughing with the new feeling of this ‘odd’ smoke.

“Wow, that’s good,” he complemented Paul. The table encouraged him to take another drag, and hold it for longer this time, and that if the taste kept bothering him, he should drink his adios.

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur for Max.

He remembered Max and Dwayne coming to sit at the table… at some point in the night.

He remembered laughing with them, and telling them about his childhood, and his sire. He talked about how proud he was of them, being successful ‘vampire’ and terrors of the night. The boys didn’t need to explain anything to X, he just assumed Max got cross-faded and blacked out. Which, he was.

Max remembers flashing lights, glowsticks. The night was like a blur, but there were blips he could remember. Were the flashing lights neon, or red and blue?

Max laid in bed, tasting his dry mouth. His head ached, and so did his stomach. His clothes were dirty with blood and mud. He tried to sit up, and he noticed his shoes were missing.

He had no idea what time it was, or what exactly happened last night. The last thing he remembered was that cigarette. He groaned, looking into the mirror he noticed his hair a mess. His glasses were cracked, and his lips were bright blue from the adios.

He called for Lucy, who came to check on him. Thorn came too.

Max asked Lucy what happened, and what time he came home. Lucy was proud when she spoke. He commended the boys for bringing him home, and they made sure he was okay, and got to bed safe and sound. Max smiled at that.

“They wanted me to tell you thanks for last night.” Lucy handed Max a cup of water and started unbuttoning his shirt to help him relax. Max eagerly took the glass with one hand, and pet Thorn with the other. His furry friend happy to be getting attention.

“Oh,” Lucy added as she finished unbuttoning his shirt, “they wanted me to also tell you that they would be back next week.”

“Pardon?” Max was confused. He did not remember them talking about going somewhere last night.

Lucy explained to him that he had given the boys his cards and told them to go on vacation.

“I DID WHAT???” Max started fumbling with his phone, trying to open up his credit card app.

“You told me yourself that you wanted them to enjoy themselves. What’s wrong with that?” Lucy remarked.

The app finally loaded. He was devastated by what he saw.

He had no way of finding them now, as he was sure they pulled all the cash out in a lump sum and turned off their phones.

He sighed and threw himself back against the bed; they really got him good with that one.

The boys were sitting pretty in Las Vegas by now. They dropped Max off at home, withdrew all his money, and them and Michael took off for the Bellagio to book a suite.

Michael’s words echoed through his mind, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He covered his face in his hands and wailed.

Max would be lucky if they came back in a week.  

[flowerygoblincroissant]

This was one of the many downsides to living as a secret werewolf in human society, though I was honest with my partner about my secret, I didn’t mention the silver issue. They were the best SO I ever had, the only one I told about me being a werewolf, I just never brought up my allergy because I didn't normally wear jewelry and neither did he. The genuine look of love and hope in his eyes made my heart melt, I didn’t want to hurt myself with the silver, but I couldn’t say no to the man I loved so much.

"Yes, I'd love to marry you!" I chimed.

He beamed as he put the ring on my finger, the pain feeling like a hot coal burning me, but I tried to grit and bear it until I could get a replacement. The way my skin turned bright angry red had other plans and they immediately turned worried, when I kissed them as people cheered, then lead them to an empty hall.

"What's wrong with your hand, are you ok?" he asked

"It's fine, Alex... I just want to get home and celebrate with you alone." I lied.

"Please don't give me that, Tyler, what’s going on?"

I sighed, embarrassed that my skin gave me away like that, but I couldn’t keep him from that information any longer.

"Silver hurts werewolves... the ring is pure silver." I replied.

Their eyes widened for a second before he took the ring off, lead me to the restroom, and put my injured hand under nice cool water as he apologized profusely.

"Babe, it's ok, you didn't know, I didn't want to embarrass you in front of the restaurant." I said.

"Still, I should've known, all that research on werewolves I did only to buy something that hurt my werewolf fiance, I'm an idiot!"

I put my uninjured hand on his cheek, lifting his face up to look at me with nothing but love in my heart for the caring man.

"This doesn't make you an idiot, I didn’t tell you because I didn't think it would pop up, but now you know- you might be an idiot for the other crazy things you do, like falling in love with a werewolf, but you're my werewolf loving idiot and I couldn’t be happier to have you by my side, I love you so much and I can't wait for you to become my husband." I said.

"I love you too, you big fluffball." He said sniffling.

I wiped his tears and kissed his forehead, the two of us heading out and paying for dinner, passers-by congratulating us on our way out. The next day, we got rings with no silver in them and we celebrated the engagement with close friends and family, who were apparently waiting for a long time and placing bets on the crazy things that would happen when one of us would propose, my father ended up owing my uncle 50 bucks for the ring thing. In the end, it was a happy affair filled with supportive and caring people who joined us for the ceremony for our love, life wasn’t so bad as a werewolf with the people I had around me.

You are a werewolf trying your best to live peacefully among humans, but your SO has just proposed to you with a ring of pure silver. You genuinely love and want to marry them, but you also have to somehow get out of accepting this ring.

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[iwalc]

Surprise- Brian May x Reader

It was late. You sat on the sofa reading a book in front of the fireplace when you zoned out. You started to look around you and saw how beautiful your life had become. You were married to the one and only person you ever loved and together you had built this beautiful, incredible life. 2 years ago, 3 years into your marriage with Brian, you decided to have a child, a token of your love for each other. It was a rough start. There were numerous times where it didn't work at all, other times when you peed on the stick, soon after seeing a positive test, the excitement was immense and when you told Brian he got so excited, all of this to then be broken by the news of miscarriage. It broke the both of you but somehow you still managed to carry on. And for the reward of not giving in you could finally tell Brian once again that you were pregnant, and that time, all went well. In August 1980 you could finally give birth to a bouncing baby girl. It was a strange feeling, suddenly the gravity of your universe shifted and everything revolved around this tiny human, the beautiful Amanda that you and your husband, the love of your life had created and would cherish forever.

You had Brian, your beautiful girl Amanda, you had a beautiful and warm atmosphere you could call home, and there was nothing more that you wanted in life. Until a few months ago.

Your husband had started to secretly give you hints until he finally sat down with you and spat it out.

"Love?" he called silently since Amanda was sleeping, from the living room as you were in the bathroom catching up some laundry. "Yes, gorgeous" you answered just as you accomplished the task at hand. "Could you come here for a minute, there is something I'd like to talk to you about", "Ofc, I'll just wash my hands first". You thought about it as you washed your hands in the warm water. It must be something that's been on his mind for a while since whenever it's something ordinary he just spits it out, out of nowhere. You were curious.

When you walked towards the living room you saw him sitting on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees, face in his hands. This worried you quite a bit. "Hey, what's up?" you asked as you sat down next to him, your hand automatically landing on his thigh. "I uh, I... There is something that's been on my mind" he started, looking down at his feet signalling his nervousness. "Well, I figured, I've noticed there's been something on your mind lately, but I didn't want to push you into talking with me if you didn't feel ready to." you gently said as you squeezed his tight gently. "I haven't found the right time to tell you and talk to you about it" he continued. "I want to know what's on your mind, love" you answered, really wanting to know. He turned his head to look at you for a moment, his curls falling off his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do you want me to just spit it out or with some background information?" he asked chuckling a bit, "Do you think background information will be necessary?" you asked him smiling while adoring his beautiful features. His hazel, soft eyes, his prominent cheekbones, his jawline, his beautiful dark curls framing his gorgeous face. "No, not really. I uhm", "Brian, love, I know you are nervous but it's just me, spit it out", "I want another baby Y/N" he blurted out, waiting worriedly for your reaction, a small smile daring to tug at his lips. You were quite shocked, to be honest, it wasn't what you thought your husband had been thinking so much about. "You know Amanda is growing quickly, she's almost 2 years old now and I uhm, it would be nice to give her some company and" he didn't get to finish his explanation because of you interrupting him with a kiss. Taking him by surprise.

It was a brilliant idea. It made your stomach flutter with butterflies. You pulled back from the passionate kiss, seeing his chocked state made you laugh. He smiled at you, adoration poured into the gaze that reached your face. "I'd love to expand our family and have another child with you!" you squeaked, flying into his arms, which in turn led to chuckles escaping Brian's throat. The sound filled your heart and once again you thought about how perfect your life had become. You were so in love with everything, but most importantly Amanda and Brian.

The way he got so excited. The way his hazel eyes got deeper with adoration and excitement. The way his smile reached his eyes. The way he hugged you, telling you how happy you made him, how in love he was with you and to share his life with you. The way he existed. Your heart ached with love for this man.

And that day, it was set, you were going to try for a new baby. It wasn't always easy, already having a child to take care of, as well as Brians sometimes strange working schedule. However, to you, it was quite obvious it had worked. You were experiencing some symptoms, which reminded you of your first pregnancy: Absent period, hormonal imbalance, tender breasts, bloated, nausea in the mornings. Even Brian noticed some changes:

You had just gotten out of a late-night shower and were just going to change into your pyjama shirt when Brian suddenly commented something you found very strange. "Love, have you been missing your period?" he blurted out. This was something you never ever thought he'd ever think of, never the less keep track off. You turned around to stare at him, "Yes, in fact, I have, why?". "No, I was just thinking, I reckon you told me last month that we had to buy more pads and tampons til' this time, but neither of us has bought any and you have been feeling quite fine compared to how you use to feel when the time of the month comes around." he said like it was nothing, you just starred at him incredulously, at awe of the attention he had paid. "What? Did I say something wrong?" he asked as his face fell. "No, no you didn't. I'm just amazed by the attention you pay to those kinds of things. I wasn't prepared for the question nor the explanation for it." you said and chuckled as you dragged the shirt over your head. Walking to the bed you smiled to yourself, wow, what a man. As you buried yourself under the quilt, snuggling up to Brian who gladly put his arm around you he blurted out another incredulous comment. "I also can't help to notice that your breast has gotten bigger". You laughed at the comment. "I don't know if they're bigger, but tender they definitely are. How do you notice all of these things?" you couldn't help but ask as you looked up at him. "Well, I don't know, I guess I just do. And I've known you for about ten years now, and we've been together for almost eight of those. I would like to say I know you very well" he stated. "Well yes, you definitely do, and I love you for it!" you said as you reached up for a kiss, he chuckled a bit and smiled into the kiss.

Brian didn't ask anything after that, you know he had his suspicions but neither of you wanted to get the hopes up too early, regarding all of the tries before Amanda. However, after emptying your stomach one morning, you decided that it would be time to take a test. Brian couldn't be with you this time since he had work at the studio that had to be done, and since Amanda was spending time with her grandparents, Ruth and Harold, you figured it would be a perfect time. Since Brian wasn't home, nor did he know you were going to take a test, you decided to keep it a secret until you knew the result and decided to take it from there.

You had pregnancy tests laying around in a draw in the bathroom. You took one, peed on it, and while waiting for a result you went to eat some breakfast. Coming back to the bathroom to look at the test, you suddenly became very nervous, you really wanted it to be positive! You would hate to break the news to Brian, telling him that it was negative and that the symptoms had been a result of something else. You took a deep breath and grabbed the test. You slowly turned it around, feeling the nervousness clearly increase. All the fear suddenly washed away, it was positive.

Suddenly you felt all the emotions in the world all at once. Tears started to drip from your eyes as you smiled like crazy. The excitement was a fact which resulted in several exited screams and runs throughout the house. If anyone could see you they'd probably think you'd be crazy. But you didn't care because you were the happiest. You had more than you would ever wish for.

Before taking the test you were thinking about waiting to tell Brian until you've seen a doctor etc but now, there was no way you could make that happen. You tried not to call Brian at the studio to tell him. Instead, you rushed to the phone and decided to call Ruth and Harold.

It felt like it took forever before anyone picked up the phone. "The May household" you heard Harold answer. "Hi Harold, it's Y/N, how are you?", "Hello Dear, I'm fine thank you, how are you?" he asked, he sounded happy, it warmed your heart. You contemplated whether telling them or waiting. Apparently, you had been quiet for too long, "Is everything alright?" he seriously asked. You hesitated a bit, "Yeah, I uhm I think so", "You doesn't sound too sure about that dear, would you like to talk to Ruth?", "That would be nice, thank you, Harold". Harold was a great grandad and a wonderful father in law, however, you had always had a better connection towards Ruth.

You heard Harold calling for Ruth and some muffled noises. "Hello dear!" you heard Ruth's voice cheering through. "Hello Ruth, how are you? And Amanda?" you gently asked, not really levelling with her enthusiasm. "Oh I'm fine dear, thank you for asking. Amanda just ate some soup, so she's full and satisfied" she laughed. "That's great! I hope you're all having a good time and that she's behaving" you chuckled. "Oh dear, don't worry, she's the best!" you chuckled as an answer. "Now, Y/N, will you tell me what's wrong?", "I uhm, I was wondering if I could pick Amanda up a bit earlier than planned? Like today?", it was quiet for some time before she answered. "Oh, well yes of course you can! Is there something wrong?" she asked. "No, I don't think so at least" you chuckled, "I just want her home for tonight when Brians getting home.", "Y/N, I'm sorry but I can see right through you, there is something on your mind.", "Well yes, there are, I just don't know if I want to tell you before I tell Brian.", "Oh" and with this, you knew she understood. "Ok, I think you know by now anyway, I uhm, I'm..... pregnant, and I wanted to" you didn't get to finish your sentence because there was a scream on the other end and it made you laugh. "Oh my heavens, Congratulations!! I am so happy for you two!" she almost screamed. "Don't get too excited Ruth, it's still pretty early" you voiced your fears. "Oh dear, I understand your fear, I really do, but it will be alright in the end, I promise!", at this you got emotional, tears started to stream down your cheeks and you sniffled, "Oh love, It will be alright! We'll pack Amandas things and then we'll be right over, okay?", "Okay" you sniffled, "Thank you Ruth!", "No worries dear!", "Ruth before you begin packing things up, you don't have too, you can have her back tonight or tomorrow if you want.", "That sounds nice if it's alright with you two, but I guess you would appreciate some time alone to talk and everything, so we'll happily come and pick her up tomorrow again!", "That sounds great, I know she loves being with you two! I won't hold you up any longer, see you soon then", "Yes darling, see you soon!"

You took a deep breath. Wow. This was a rollercoaster.

You were so happy and so appreciative for Ruth and Harold. Brian and Harold haven't always been on great terms but the last year things have been amazing between them and both Harold and Ruth have always been amazing towards you. They are great, amazing! And there is no wonder why Brian is so great.

---

You were in the bedroom and looking for a specific body that Amanda had, knowing that Brian would know exactly when he saw it, when you heard knock on the front door. You quickly ran downstairs and opened to great your baby and parents in law.

"Hi," you both said at the same time as you opened the door. Ruth walked inside first and greeted you with a big smile, embracing you in a hug only a mother could. "You look great!" she happily said as her hands went to your cheeks, you chuckled a bit "Thanks, I don't feel great" you laughed, hoping not to get further questions. Harold stepped inside and handed you your baby girl, oh you had missed her. "Hi baby," you said in a squealing voice before showering her in kisses, making her laugh. Harold walked up to you, and to your surprise leaned in for a hug, he's not a hugging person normally, you gently hugged him and received a happy congratulations wish. "I'm happy for you both," he said, "Thank you so much, Harold," you said and gave him a joyous smile, just as you also felt tears streaming down. "Oh wow, I'm a mess" you laughed as you brushed the tears off. "No worries dear, I was the same when I was expecting Brian" she laughed and Harold agreed, not pleased with the recall of memories. You all broke down in laughs.

You welcomed them inside and as always they made themselves feel at home as you served some tea and biscuits. Ruth was playing with Amanda on the sofa. "Has she taken her nap today?" you asked as you saw how Amanda started to get cranky and sleepy. "No she hasn't, she was about to fall asleep in the car on our way here but we thought it was better to keep her awake so she could sleep here.", "Maybe we should go take a nap, baby girl," you said as you approached them on the sofa. Suddenly, Harold stood up, "I can take her to nap, if that's ok?" he asked, "Yes of course," you said as you walked and picked Amanda up and handed her to Harold. "I'll be upstairs with the bottle in a minute," you said as you walked to the kitchen to prepare the bottle.

---

Amanda was happily asleep upstairs and Ruth and Harold had just left. However, before they left they handed me a little box and you thought that now would be a good time opening it. Inside you could see a yellow shirt, in Amanda's size. When you unfolded the soft material you saw the cutest thing. The shirt had "Promoted Big Sister" embroidered on the front. You chuckled slightly as an idea about how to reveal the news to Brian popped up in your head.

This will be perfect.

---

Amanda was seated in her chair as you finished up the rest of the dinner. For the occasion, you had made Brians favourite dinner.

You had been so distracted by the food that you hadn't heard Brian coming home. You only noticed when Amanda squealed when she saw him entering the large kitchen. You turned around and was treated by a sight that could melt your heart a thousand times over. Brians had picked her up and were showing her with hugs and kisses, making the baby girl let out belly laughs. You felt how you were about to cry but quickly turned around again to brush them away.

Brian put Amanda back in her chair for a moment and approached you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, his lips brushed against your neck and kissed your temple. "Hi" you gently voiced. "Hello, love," he said and kept kissing your cheek. "It smells delicious," he said and placed one last kiss on your ear. "It's your favourite," you said and put down the spatula to turn around and greet him properly. "I noticed, what do I owe the pleasure?" he said as you wrapped your hands around his neck, his hands placed on your waist. "nothing special" you lied. "How was your day?" you asked as you leaned in for a hug, hugging his waist, his hands brushing your back. You could smell his cologne, feel his arms tightening around you. "It was okay, nothing special," he said, his voice low. He pulled away from the hug to look at you. One of his hands stroke some hair behind your ear to then cup your cheek. "How was your day? And why's Amanda home, shouldn't she be at my parents?", "They came to visit earlier and I wanted her home, but she's going back tomorrow," you said as you adored his face. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was like nothing else, your whole body tingled. You felt the excitement again.

The dinner was nothing special. Brian kept complimenting the food, which warmed your heart. Throughout the whole dinner, you just kept adoring the little family you have and the excitement to reveal that one more was on the way kept getting stronger and you were growing impatient.

Amanda played with a rattle toy while you and Brian both cleaned up after the dinner, stealing hugs and kisses here and there.

When the kitchen was done cleaning you honestly felt exhausted, and Brian, being the wonderful husband he is, sensed that. He walked up to you and kissed your forehead as he hugged you. "You go sit down and relax and I'll take care of Manda" he said and kissed you again. "Thank you" you whispered.

Brian kissed you once more and walked excitedly towards Amanda, "Come here baby girl, it's time for jammies" he said as he picked her up and threw her up in the air, making her laugh once again. You felt at peace and happy as you saw them giggling, making their way down to the nursery.

It was getting quite late. You sat down on the sofa reading a book in front of the fireplace when you zoned out. You started to look around you and saw how beautiful your life had become. You were married to the one and only person you ever loved and together you had built this beautiful incredible life. And the excitement for the news Brian is left to find out is very much evident.

You couldn't focus on reading the book, you just sat there biting you lip slightly and listening to what was happening in the nursery. You heard Brian talk to Manda and her giggles. Until it all stopped.

Silent took over the house, the only thing you could hear was Mandas joller and the fire in the fireplace.

"Love?" Brian called for you. You didn't answer, you wanted to see his reaction without you interfering to early. "Y/N" he almost shouted. Silence took over again.

Apparently, he grabbed Amanda and the shirt he had discovered and worked to the living room. "What is this?" he said, trying to hide his excitement if it weren't true. "It's a new shirt I bought for Manda" you chuckled. He looked so confused. His eyes went from looking on Amanda, to the shirt, to you. "What?" he blurted out, confusion written all over him. You rose up from the sofa and approached him. He had put Amanda down on the floor as he inspected the shirt.

You walked towards him and when there was almost no space between you he looked up at you, studied your expression. You smiled and took the shirt out of his hands and folded it and put it on the table. You walked up to him again and smiled. He tilted his head a bit, once again showing his confusion. You took his hands and brought them up to kiss them and then placed them gently on your lower stomach to get the message through. He caught on immediately. His eyes widened and he let out a breath. "Ooh my lord" he breathed as he adjusted his hands slightly, his gaze fixated on your belly. You chuckled and once again felt tears forming in your eyes. "I'm pregnant, Brian" you said smiling as the tears ran down your cheeks. He looked up at you and a smile spread across his face, "Really?" he asked as he looked at you. "Yes, I took three tests and all of them was positive".

Brian moved his hands and embraced you in a loving, comforting hug. His head was placed in the curve of your neck, his hands wrapped around you, your hands on his back, feeling his warmth, feeling the soft curls against your cheek. What you discovered next melted your heart. You heard sniffles coming from Brian.

You broke the embrace and looked at him, your hands holding his cheeks, your thumbs brushing away the tears, as more tears streamed from your eyes. You both were crying out of happiness, and soon enough you were both laughing. Brian held your waist, "Oh boy I love you!" he said as he laughed and kissed you. "I love you more" you gently said, looking into his hazel eyes. "Thank you" he then said as a wave of more tears streamed down his rosy cheeks. He leaned his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. "I.. I don't even know what to say. I love you so much and there is no other I'd want to share my life with. You make me happy, you're keeping me on track, you are my universe. I love you so much and I am so grateful for you! You have given me the best gift of live already once, and now again. I... I'm speechless. I love you so much! And I am so excited" he laughed. "I am so excited. Im so excited for all that the future has to bring us. To see Amanda grow up, to see this little bean grow" he placed his hands on your stomach, "I love you, so much!" he started to cry again. This hit you hard. How did you end up with this fantastic man? If only you could show him how much you meant to him so he could really understand.

"Baby, I love you! So much! And I am so happy. I have more than I could ever have asked for. I have a wonderful husband, who's also my best friend. You cheer me up when I'm down, you comfort me when I'm sad, you laugh with me when I'm happy. I am so glad and grateful that I get to share my life with you too. I love you so much it hurts!" you said and kissed his swollen, red lips to then hug him tight.

You were so excited for what the future would bring. You would never want to do this with anyone else. This was perfect.

--------------------

I hope you liked this one! I surely do! If you guys want maybe I could build this story further, maybe to follow them throughout the pregnancy or something? Let me know what you think!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Brahms's Lullaby ~ Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Note: Why do I love Brahms? Fuck if I know. Anyway, this is what happens when a a meek, cute girl moves away from her old life to turn the page and find herself once again...And yet, her dark past quite literally comes back to haunt her.

'That's one huge manor...' Y/N thought to herself, the back of her neck straining as she scanned it from the bottom to the very top of the roof. The grip on her luggage tightened as she gulped in anxiety, and after taking a few deep breaths, she entered in this house, and immediately got greeted by the elderly woman who was the mistress of the house.

Y/N wasn't sure if it was her who was just nervous about the drastic change in her life, or if the woman was simply incredibly intimidating, but hey, as far as she was concerned, this woman won't be staying with her, so she will be all alone in the house, taking care of a child...How bad could it be?

Oh wait. Y/N hates children. They are so loud, bratty, obnoxious, entitled, rude...And the list could go on for ages, but she couldn't loiter in her mind any longer, and instead, she had to memorise where each room was, and what instructions the woman was saying.

She couldn't believe it, but she was glad she chose to wear a pair of comfortable sneakers, for she kinda got tired going up and down the manor...But what could she do anyway?

The kitchen got introduced to her, the woman told her to keep the leftovers in the freezer, told her about Malcom the delivery boy and how he's the only one allowed to bring her stuff. Weird, but what could she do? P'haps the child has a very strict routine that they must stick to, otherwise they'll feel weird and uncomfortable. Who knows?

And then, she showed her the music room, and while she wasn't paying much attention to the woman who turned on the music on the radio rather loud, Y/N looked around, inspecting the musical instruments, especially the piano, and the music sheets neatly displayed - "Brahms's Lullaby" it was called.

"Oh, is the child a fan of Johannes Brahms?" Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, as she gently traced her fingers over the keys. "Yes, he is. In fact, the child is called Brahms." the woman spoke a bit sharply, looking her up and down with eyes that almost seemed...Judging, for some reason. "What a lovely name. When will I meet little Brahmsy?" she asked, and as soon as she used that nickname, the woman's jaw got set, and Y/N could swear she was gritting her teeth in anger at her. "...Brahms. His name is Brahms. You will meet him right now. Come on." the woman went on ahead and opened a room, where a doll was sitting in a chair, neatly dressed like a gentleman, while next to him, crouching, an elderly man, who she could only assume was the woman's husband, the master of the house. "Oh, my dear Brahms...This is Y/N, she is here to be your new nanny. Miss L/N, this us Brahms, and he will decide whether he accepts you or not." ...a doll? She...Has to babysit...A doll? Well...The pay is good, and she's veeeery far away from her old home, so...No new beginning happens within your comfort zone, right? "Hello, Brahms, it's great meeting you. I hope we'll get along well." with a sweet smile on her face, Y/N crouched down if front of the chair and took the little hand of the doll, shaking it carefully. "...Fine enough. Now, could you give us some time alone? Brahms will decide now." with that look on her face, while the old man looked at her with pity, and...Relief, maybe? Y/N exited the room, only to see a man standing in front of her, wearing an amiable smile. "Oh, hello there, you must be the new nanny. I'm Malcom, the delivery boy. Well, delivery man. Nice to meet you." very charming... "Ah, yes, I've heard about you. My name is Y/N, nice meeting you as well." she replied politely, although she could sense the flirt he was failing to put forward. "If you want, some day, I can show you around the town. It's small, but kinda pretty." he continued in the same manner, and Y/N replied with simple answers, until finally, the woman opened the door widely, with an even wider smile. "Brahms has decided that you are suitable to be his new nanny, congratulations." how the human behaviour can change so drastically, doing a whole 180, in a split second. "Thank you so much for accepting me, Brahms! I'm sure we'll get along well!" Y/N clapped her hands together to her chest in a cheerful manner, as the elder man left as well, allowing his wife some more farewell words with the doll. "Here, I made you a simplified list of rules you must follow. You don't have to wake up at 7 in the morning every day like my wife told you, but you must make sure all of these are taken care of, alright, miss L/N?" the man asked, handing her the paper which she attentively read. "Yes, of course, I will do as instructed without fail. Thank you for having trust in me with your dear Brahms. Have a lovely trip and I hope you get a well-deserved rest!" Y/N wished them, and for a split second, she almost thought the man's eyes flashed with shock and sorrow. What was going on anyway...? This family is...Peculiar, to say the least. Well, no matter, she will be paid weekly, and with the pretty generous amount she earned while working as a doctor, she should be able to afford anything she'd want, so she won't get bored.

And so, the Heelshires left, and she was all alone with the doll - Y/N decided to make her new bedroom to her liking, as much as possible, with Brahms sitting on a nightstand, as she was humming whatever tune that went in her mind, and swaying carefreely.

"You know, Brahms? I wasn't expecting you to be a doll. But frankly, I think this is better. Children are annoying...But you? You're really nice. And you're not loud or obnoxious. I think we'll be great friends." speaking to a doll...I guess that's how far in my loneliness I've gotten. Tragic, really...She thought as she realised how much of a crazy person she'd look like, were someone to see her. "Since it's already evening, let's go make some really good dinner, and then we can play the piano a bit? Maybe even watch a movie together?" she picked up the doll and went to the kitchen, and looking in the fridge, then at the utensils available, she put together a nice dinner, and put it split in two plates, one for her, and one for the doll, and to keep away the boring silence that hung painfully throughout the house, she put on some LoFi music on her phone, and ate, feeling more peace now than she ever did. "Hmmm...I know your mum told me to put the food in the freezer...But it's better eaten while still warm. I don't think you'll like it if it's stone cold...So, I'll leave it here, on the table, and see how it is. If you don't like it, and you want me to put it in the fridge, just tell me, and I'll do as advised." ...Just tell me? JUST TELL ME? Girl, are you out of your mind?! As if a doll could speak...

After she washed her plate, fork and knife, she picked up the doll once again, and went to the music room, putting the doll on the piano, and cracking her fingers, she let them glide over the claviature, creating a beautiful melody echo through the room, and maybe Y/N didn't realise, but she had a glowing smile on her face, and she visibly relaxed and felt at ease, as if she was flying through the fluffy clouds.

"I haven't done this in so long, I'm surprise I'm not rustier. I hope you liked it too, Brahmsy. Now, let's go to be. Do you want to sleep in my room? Come on, I'm a bit anxious to sleep by myself in this huge, creepy house." she mused as she got to her room, carefully putting the doll on her pillow and after going to the bathroom to change in her cutesy Unicorn Pusheen nightgown, and turning on her laptop, she put on Harry Potter, one of her comfort movies, and cuddling with the doll, she gave it a little kiss before getting engulfed in the story once again, and falling asleep without realising.

Everything was peaceful in the house in the morning, until Y/N reached the kitchen to make some light breakfast, only to find a paper on the table, with beautiful cursive writing in ink on it.

"Warm is better, thank you :) "

Frankly speaking, it freaked her our enough to get a panic attack and barricade herself in her room for the whole day, her bedroom locked and too afraid to leave that place for the whole day.

Oops.

After this, days on end, and then weeks passed by uneventfully, as Y/N took care of Brahms with no problem, Malcom came by to give her the groceries, the pay and anything that she'd order online, she'd chat with some old friends, would watch movies, would go out to plant flowers and tend to the garden, would dance around, happy to bask in the warm Summer sun, would read whatever books she likes, with the doll in her lap, and she realised that she never felt more relaxed and free in her life.

It was pretty cool not having to work for money, huh?

But one day, when she was out in the garden, barefoot and with a cute, flower dress on, her long, beautiful hair, accessorised with a colourful flower crown, and she was dancing to the music on her phone, she noticed a figure somewhere from the forest. It was unmoving, almost as if it was staring, and it startled Y/N. It startled and frightened her so much that she quickly picked up the doll and went inside the house, making sure all windows and doors are properly locked, and the drapes are closed, so nobody could get in.

That night, she kneeled on the bad, an upset frown on her face, as she felt her eyes watering slightly, looking down at the porcelain doll of the little boy.

"It's moments like this when I hoped you were human, Brahmsy. Not a child...But a man. I'm scared...I'm so scared...I don't like being alone. There was some creep outside in the forest, and it was staring at us. What do I do, Brahmsy? What am I supposed to do...?" as she felt a few tears streaming down her face, she sighed, hanging her head down, raking her fingers down her face in mild desperation. "...Who am I kidding, you're just a doll, you're not human. Why the hell do I even bother. I'm going to die here, sooner or later..." her voice was filled with dread and resignation as she got under the covers, clinging onto the doll as if her very life depended on it.

Since that very day, she continued seeing the silhouette of a tall man, standing there, menacingly stalking her every single day, from different places, until she heard the phone ring, and reluctantly, she answered.

"...Hello? Who is there...?" she muttered, gripping the phone anxiously, awaiting and answer. "You don't recognise the voice of the man that made you feel good every night?" her breath stopped completely hearing that awful voice she hoped never to hear again. Instead of answering, she slammed the phone down.

But it rang again.

And again.

And again.

Until it drove her mad and she disconnected it completely.

It wasn't like anyone would call her anyway, and if they wanted to contact her, then they could text her on her private phone, or on social media.

Why can't she just get some peace anywhere? She just wanted to get away from all hell she was put through at home...But now, it seemed like Hell was inclined to follow her to the ends of the world.

The stress and fright from this increased when she received multiple pictures of herself from either outside the house, or even inside, which is when she realised the stalked from outside was, in fact, the one who called her on the phone. It was her horrible ex.

And one horrible night, as she gripped on the doll to dear life, walking down the corridors of the huge manor, checking for the thousandth time that everything is locked tight, she heard a noise.

What was she supposed to do...? She couldn't run out of the house, everything was locked...And could she hide? Not really, she was sure he'd check all the rooms without fail.

So...What could she do except try to hide in her room?

She waited in her wardrobe, knowing very well that, if he were to get inside her bedroom, he would check every nook and cranny, but even so, she felt safer in a cramped, tight place, than outside in such an open room.

Mere seconds felt like outright centuries, she heard the door slam open, making her jump in fright, her hand to her mouth, so she'd muffle any sound she'd potentially make from her hyperventilating. She knew, it would be long before he checked the wardrobe, but gosh...The anticipation made her anxiety skyrocket.

Until it finally happened.

Y/N found herself being dragged from inside her safe place by the hair, thrown to the ground, but not once did she let go of the doll that became some sort of a comfort object for her.

"So that's where you were, Y/N! I missed you! It's been a while, hasn't it?" oh no, that overly sweet voice...It's nothing but poison. It was so bad that her bottom lip started quivering with fear as she tried to crawl away from there, but obviously, to no avail. "Wheeeere are you going, darling? Didn't you miss me? Come on, give me a hug!" he grinned, grabbing her and trapping her in his arms, and she couldn't help but tremble in disgust and fear as she felt his hands roaming in places it shouldn't. "Why aren't you talking to me? Why aren't you saying anything? Come on, let me hear you voice! ...DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT!" ah, his facade crumbled much faster than expected, and that aggressive scream in her face as he roughly pushed her in the wardrobe door made her whimper and wrap herself around the doll, trying not to let tears fall down her face and just...Praying for all this to be over...To be just a nightmare..."What the fuck is with that doll anyway? Why do you cling on it, and not on me? Give that here." but she didn't let go, and seeing how she was opposing him, he forcefully grabbed her face before slapping her before snatching away the doll from her arms. "Sheesh...It's so fucking ugly. No wonder you stay with this, it's the only thing that would stay with someone like you. So ugly, dumb, annoying...You should be grateful that I'm here! Nobody in this world wants you! You're worthless and you deserve nothing. Do you hear me? You ARE nothing! Better thank me nicely for coming all the way here for you! Nobody would bother doing ANYTHING for you!" he yelled at her, as she cradled her face, crying, but also fearing being seen crying, remembering how bad it would get. "Don't her Brahms...Please...Please don't hurt him..." she begged and pleaded over and over, but it only seemed to ignite more anger in his eyes. "You only beg me with that sweet voice of yours...To save your stupid...Thing? Really, Y/N? You're pathetic. You're stupid. You're disgusting. Fuck you and fuck your stupid doll!" and with that, the jerk started slamming the fragile porcelain doll on the wall, ignoring the desperate pleas from the girl. "NO! NOOOOOOOO! No....! Brahms, no...! What has he done to you..." Y/N crawled to the place where the doll's porcelain head was slammed apart, and she let tears fall over as, with shaky hands, she tried to piece together the overly-fragmented head, only to get pulled back by the hair and slammed on the ground, as he pushed himself upon her, his hands grabbing at her exposed flesh, her light nightgown offering close to no protection from the lecherous predator, and her weak, noodle arms, just like before, offered no resistance to his significantly stronger, bulkier built, and no matter how much she tried to fight back, she knew...She knew that struggling never helped, no matter how much she tried. It never did. And it only made it hurt more.

But then...Before she knew it, a loud noise, like that of an explosion, or destruction, came from somewhere in the room, startling the poor girl enough to make her scream in fright, while the predator jumped to his feet looking at the hole in the wall...

Only for a pair of hands to slowly creep out of the wall, tredging along the wooden walls, and then, a head wearing a porcelain mask creepily got out, followed by 2 legs and a body. It seemed to be a man, very tall - In fact, taller than her ex - , but while yes, his dramatic entrance startled the two, the man only got angrier, ready to fight the intruder, while the petite girl only got more frightened by the commotion, dragging herself in the safest corner of the room, shaking, guarding her head with both her arms, hoping again and again that this was all a nightmare, and it would end already - It was beginning to look so much more incredible, like a weird fantasy movie...This can't be real, right?!

"Y/N! Help me!" the voice of a child called out her name, almost strangled and desperate, and peeking at the brawl on the ground, she noticed her ex trying to strangle the stranger, whose head was leaning, his eyes fixated on hers.

He went out of the wall as soon as she got attacked...He was trying to protect her...Maybe? So...She got up, trying not to attract the attention of her ex, and taking ahold of the lamp on her nightstand, she brought it down hard against her ex's head, making him groan in pain...But he didn't fall. He didn't faint, like you see in movies. Instead, he got up, glaring at the meek girl and snatched away the lamp, throwing it away.

"You fucking bitch...Now you've done it." his voice was so dark that she was sure this was game over, so she bolted out of the room as fast as she could, but the labyrinthine house was impossible to navigate, and before she knew it, she found herself in a dead end, with no escape.

However, instead of seeing her ex with the wrath of a raging bull, she noticed the stranger slowly making his way towards her, his shoulder slouched, his dirty, once white, tank top now splattered with fresh blood, as is the rest of his outfit. But his hands were up, almost as if to say that he 'surrenders', as he stepped right in front of the trembling girl.

"Please don't kill me. Please don't hurt me. Please, please, please, I will leave you alone, I will go away, I will do want you want, please don't hurt me." even her voice was shaky, her arms crossed to protect her face, and her eyes closed in fear, so she didn't notice the curly haired man slowly crouching down in front of her, his head tilting slowly, before he gingerly grasped her wrists, pulling them away with such gentleness that she never knew. It was so weird for someone to be so careful with her body...With her...That she opened her eyes, doe-like, looking at the man's wide eyes that peered through his mask. "I am Brahms." but this time, his voice wasn't like that of a child, but not did it sound rough and hoarse, like her ex's. It was soft and delicate, masculine, but not too much. It was soothing. And what Brahms once saw to be the most frightened eyes, remembering how scared Bambi was when his mother died, yet now, they had more of a curious spark. "I won't hurt you. I promise. Don't leave." the once tense girl visibly relaxed under his touch, as he let go of her wrists and letting his knees touch the floor, he leaned forwards, between her legs, to get closer to her, and touched her face with both of his arms, wiping away her tears, surprised at how soft her skin was...Is it was a flower petal feels like? He remembers overly descriptive books where women are seen as different delicate things...A flower, a fawn, a butterfly, a nightingale, the Moon, and so many others...And he could finally understand why. "You are safe now." he continued, thinking it would make the girl smile, but instead, even more tears leaked down her face, and she threw her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her, his body flushed to hers...And he stood there, stiff, shocked at the situation he was in.

What was he supposed to do now? Touch was so foreign to him...But he loved it so much! It was so warm, it made him happy! He wanted the girl to be closer and closer to him. He remembers what she did daily to his doll - What was it called...A cuddle? - Yes, he wanted that. He NEEDED that.

He hated that man touching her - He was hurting her - Only HE can touch her. He deserved to die. He deserved to fuck off. All he has to do is get rid of the body, and the rest can go on as it always has been - Except, instead of Y/N cuddling the doll, she will cuddle him every night, and she will kiss him.

"Thank you, Brahmsy. Thank you. Thank you so much." she continued thanking him over and over again, but he didn't answer. Instead, his hands slowly made their way on her waist, then went to the curvature of her hips, then to her thighs, and without any warning, he lifted her up, indirectly forcing her to glue herself to him even more - Not before hearing her cute squeal of surprise - And he carried her to one of the guest bedrooms, shivering a bit as he felt her warm breath on his bare neck - It excited him, but he didn't understand really what it was - But it was enough to make him bite his lip behind the mask and his grip on her thighs strengthened a bit, under the pretext of making sure she doesn't fall by mistake.

Luckily, he reached the bedroom and closing the door behind, he got in bed, holding her close as she stood in his lap, so close that he could feel her rapid heartbeat slowing down little by little. It was no misunderstanding, she was getting more and more comfortable around him. He was her protector, and he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her ever again. She was his. Nobody else's. Only his.

They stood like that for a while, just holding each other and calming down, before Brahms turned the both of them to the side, and he hugged her tightly to his chest, playing with her hair, not letting her go for the whole night. His embrace was warm, and Y/N felt so safe - As never before, not even in her parents' home. She felt...Good.

The next day, she woke up still in Brahms's arms. She wasn't sure if he woke up or not, but she leaned to plant a soft kiss on the forehead of the mask, as she raked her fingers through his dark, curly hair, but before she knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around her torso, hugging her close to his chest.

"Good morning, Brahms. Did you sleep well?" her sleepy voice was so cute...He wanted to wake like this every day...As an answer, he merely nodded. "I'm happy to hear that. Come on, we have to eat breakfast, then take a shower...And after that, we can do whatever we want. Sounds good?" she asked, getting up and holding his arms, urging him to follow her. "No shower!" ah, the childish voice again, I see... "Then...How about I shower with you? I have some cute rubber duckies, if you want." she tried to appeal to his inner child, which seemed to pique his interest. "...Only if you wash me." he muttered, making the girl chuckle. "Okay, sure, sure. Let's eat something first. I think there's some milk and cereal." she remembered how much she loved to eat that every morning before going to school, when she was little.

She prepared two bowls and they ate in silence, until Brahms muttered that he wants to hear the music she usually puts when eating - And grinning at him, she put on LoFi music once again, which seemed to make the boy happy too.

After that, they went to the bathroom, and while Brahms waited for the tub to get filled, Y/N went to get the clothes in the washing machine, while getting some fresh clothes for the both of them. Apparently, he actually had other clothes, he just didn't want to bother washing or changing...For who knows how long...

As Brahms got in the tub, only briefs on, playing with the duckies, Y/N kneeled by the tub, taking the flower-scented showed gel and the sponge.

"Get in the tub too." Brahms put his arms on the tub edge, leaning his chin on them, looking at her attentively. "We don't have much space in the tub." she explained, but he had none of it. Instead, he rose from underneath the water, picked her up with a weird ease, and got her in the tub, not before splashing her, so her nightgown was soaked so she couldn't protest anymore. "...Fine, you got me. Let me clean you, then." she shook her head with a sigh as she heard him chuckle, gripping her wrists and pulling her to sit on his lap. Did he really like it that much, she wondered. "Can I shave your chest and neck, Brahms?" she asked as she trailed her hands over his chest, shoulders and arms, scrubbing with a sponge, one hand always finding its way on either her hip or her leg. The answer came in the form of a nod, and she reached to the sink to get a shaving blade and very carefully, making sure not to irritate his skin, or cut him by mistake, she cut down the overgrown, stinky, unwashed hair. In the end, his skin was finally clean and soft and smelling like roses and vanilla. "Let me sit behind you, I have to wash your hair." he seemed pretty exited, feeling her legs on either side of him, his head leaning back so her fingers could work miracles - He felt in heaven - He was so spoiled, and he loved every second of it. The shampoo smelled really nicely too, he had to admit. But her fingers massaging his scalp...Ahhh, it was so perfect, he was almost sure he'd fall asleep. "Let me wash you too!" he said, and in a split second, he could feel the girl's body stiffen, her eyes going wide, and her face...It was beginning to turn pink...? Was she...Blushing? "Ah, uhm...Well...Y-You can wash my hair, if you want?" she was stuttering! So cute! So cute, in fact, that he pinched both her cheeks, and they felt like marshmallows. "H-Hey, stop, that hurts." she pouted as he teased her. He loved that. "Yay!" Brahms cheered as he got her back glued to his chest, his hand gingerly tracing her neck, making her lean her head back, just as he did...But why did he like the sight of his hand wrapped around her neck? He didn't want to hurt her...But the visual was getting him feel weird things.

He followed the same routine as she did to him - Massaging her scalp, putting shampoo, rinsing, then this...Conditioner? Oh, it smelled nicely...And this is called...Hair mask? Ah, this is coconut scented! And she is smiling! She has a kitty smile! She looks like a cute little kitty!

After the bath time was over, Y/N wrapped him in a bathrobe, and while he wasn't paying attention, she quickly took off her nightgown and put another bathrobe on tying it tightly, and guiding the man back to their room, so she could use a hair dryer to dry both their hair, before brushing it neatly, so they could dress up...And he insisted she dressed in that cute, flowy, flower-patterned dress

"There, all good. What do you want to do now, Brahmsy? Do you want to go in the garden and see the flowers?" she asked, a bright smile on her face, both her hands holding his, and he could see her eyes were basically glimmering, pleading him to go out with her...But he hated the outside...Hmmm...

He grumbled a bit, but ultimately, he let himself be dragged outside - He hissed a bit, as if he was a vampire getting burnt by the sun, but after a while...He didn't find it that bad...? And the flowers in the garden were so pretty...!

"Hey, Brahms, take off your shoes and socks. Feel the grass. It will make you feel so calm and peaceful...Here, how do you feel?" she asked, intertwining her fingers with his. "It's...It tickles." he muttered, looking down and wiggling his toes to get used to it. "Come sit down with me. Watching the clouds is really relaxing." she said, helping him sit down, then laying on their backs. Instead of staying apart, however, Brahms pulled her close to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "...But it's kinda boring..." he muttered, as he started kneading her arm up and down, massaging it from sheer boredom. "Look, Brahmsy, that cloud looks like a bunny, don't you think?" she put her finger up in the air, pointing to one of the clouds passing by. "Ah! You're right! And that one looks like a dragon! And that one looks like a butterfly! Look, Y/N, it's so pretty!" his boredom dissipated quickly and it got replaced by excitement instead - Very wholesome, the girl thought as she looked at the person next to her getting so happy over such simple things.

They stood outside until evening came, and they could watch the beautiful sunset, the sky painted with the most gorgeous shades there are. "Let's get inside, dear, it's getting cold. We don't want to get sick, right?" she smiled at him, only for him to hang his head down, and then he took off his cardigan and put it over her shoulders and pulled the girl between his legs, her back glued to his broad, warm chest and his embrace made her feel so warm and at ease. "Brahmsy...?" she asked softly, tilting her head up, before feeling his chin on top of her head, but she was met with silence. "The stars are pretty. You are pretty. Y/N is the prettiest, brightest star. Y/N is my star. I love my star." his soft voice was heard, almost whispery, and after a few more seconds, she felt the softest, sweetest kiss on her hair, then on her temple and on her cheek, before his chin found its place back on her head. "I love you, Brahms." she said, with teary eyes, intertwining her fingers to his, pulling his arms closer to her and squeezing his hands. "And I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

Needless to say, that comment made the man giddy and happy, for he, too, felt happiest now than he ever did before. When they felt tired, Brahms picked the girl up and got her back to their now shared room, dressed in their sleeping wear and cuddled, yet this time, Y/N was holding him, his head resting on her chest, as she played with his hair, soothing, and humming a lullaby to help him sleep.

It was Brahms's Lullaby.

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

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Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

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The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

silver, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Who said humans were animals of wisdom? For Yoongi, they’re animals of regret. Does that justify him cheating on his girlfriend with her/you? Absolutely not.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, car sex, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; angst; cheating; don’t do this to your significant other, please; Yoongi’s POV

--

Bad decisions are born from frustration and resentment.

None of it was supposed to happen. His life was fine, perfect in some people’s eyes. He was dating the girl his parents had introduced him to because it made them happy. She was polite, had a good background, and a nice smile. There wasn’t anything wrong with her.

Except he felt miserable.

Min Yoongi felt suffocated, uninterested, and annoyed at their lack of chemistry. His girl was pretty, the conventional kind of prettiness that couldn’t be denied. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he just didn’t understand beauty or something. Maybe he was being selfish for wanting more. At the start, it was alright. It was a fun little game, figuring someone out. But instead of a maze, he was on a seesaw, trying to determine if this up and down was as simple was it seemed. It sucked. And now Yoongi wanted to get off, but it seemed too difficult. Too difficult to disappoint his parents, her parents, and her aspirations of him being a good little husband.

He wanted to throw up thinking about it.

And then, she was there.

Dark lipstick and a playful smile. Black eyeshadow, eyes like a panther. Silver rings that glimmered in the flashing club lights.  Silver chain necklaces tangled in a mess around her neck, framing that slightly rounder face instead of the conformist v-line everyone was starving themselves for. Black oversized hoodie that hung on her smaller frame, paired with that short, short black dress paired with chunky black ankle boots. Thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into and mold with his hands.

That night, Yoongi had sat there with his beer, fixated on this new presence and wishing for the first time that he was single as fuck. He didn’t know if it was because he was so unhappy in his current relationship or if it was because he liked the way she looked. It didn’t matter. He burned with jealousy as she chatted with the bartender, silver rings flashing as she moved her hands animatedly to her story. At home, Yoongi had a good little girl waiting for him with her vanilla tastes and it made him sick to his stomach.

The worst part was, other than being boring as fuck, his girl was fine.

He watched as she leaned on her hand, grinning as the bartender poured her another shot. The grin of someone who did not give a fuck what anyone thought of her actions. Yoongi wanted to shove his dick into that face.

His phone buzzed and he wanted to throw it across the club. Instead, he pulled it from his pocket with a neutral expression and checked his messages. His girlfriend asking if he was alright or if he needed to be picked up. He responded that he was fine and that he would call a taxi home to be safe. Told her he loved her and realized he didn’t even mean it.

He must be the awful one.

When he looked up, she was gone. Good. Maybe she had finally left to give him and his mind some peace.

Jeon Jungkook was looking around, blinking confusedly. The youngest in their group, Yoongi always thought he looked the cutest when he was bewildered. Yoongi raised his eyebrow.

“Something wrong, bro?”

Jungkook frowned. “Where’s Taehyung?”

Ah, yes. Kim Taehyung. The one Yoongi thought was the most trouble even though he was a year older than Jungkook. Maybe it was because they had different viewpoints and they often clashed in opinion, Yoongi finding him too childish and simple in mentality in comparison to his. But eventually they learned to get along – a different viewpoint is not necessarily a wrong one. Yoongi learned that being childish once in while might actually lighten his outlook on life.

Alright, to be honest he realized he was a bit of a pessimistic jackass.

In any case, it was with that question that shit started to go downhill. Because the next thing Yoongi knew, Taehyung’s boyish, boxy smile came back with a grin and dark lipstick smeared down his chin. Next time he was with his friends, she showed up again, elbow resting on Taehyung’s shoulder, looking cool and comfortable in her black leather jacket and tiny as fuck black T-shirt dress.

Yoongi hated it.

She wore too many silver accessories that flashed in the light and made her stand out. Her makeup was too dark and haunted him in his dreams. She would sit next to Taehyung like his pet panther, complimenting his dark hair and sharp jawline with her wildness. It was torture, because Yoongi knew that he had a pretty little thing with a cute little voice waiting for him at home. It wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was this dangerous-looking woman who climbed into Taehyung’s lap and straddled him right in front of them, unashamed and unapologetic. Her fingers tangled in Taehyung’s hair and Taehyung’s large hand planted firmly on her ass as they had a casual conversation with Park Jimin like nothing weird was happening. Jimin had an open mind about it all – for him, as long as his best friend was happy, he didn’t see the problem. Also, she liked to press her tits against Taehyung’s chest and Jimin was a pervert.

Okay, yes, Yoongi knew he was jealous as fuck.

When Taehyung and her parted ways after a few months, he thought he was free. He thought he could forget about it all. He and his girlfriend were happy. They didn’t have sex anymore, but that happened sometimes. It was normal to settle down a bit after the honeymoon phase – if their few times of starfish sex could be considered a honeymoon phase.

He knew he was being overly mean, but he honestly didn’t give a shit at this point.

It wasn’t until he was having dinner with one of his close friends, Jung Hoseok, that he thought about her again. Hoseok was smiling, handing him some grilled meat, and chatting away. He liked talking to Hoseok. Hoseok made everything more light-hearted and fun. Hoseok was going on about something, but when Yoongi looked up, he saw her. All the way at the front of the restaurant, standing there with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. She was handing an elderly woman in a dirty apron a thick stack of papers and smiling. Tiny white crop top, lips painted dark red and eyes smoked with black. But the elderly owner was smiling, nodding as she pointed to the papers and spoke about them. The silver rings and silver chains flashed in the fluorescent lights.

Hoseok noticed his change in demeanor and turned around.

“Oh, that’s that woman Taehyung was seeing not too long ago,” Hoseok noted, tilting his head. “Taehyungie said she’s some kind of accountant for small businesses, but I didn’t know she did it for this place! Shall we go say hi?”

“No.”

Hoseok turned around, staring at him. “Huh?”

Yoongi looked down, staring at his bowl of rice. “She seems busy. Let her be.”

“Oh... Okay.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He wanted to smash it. Instead, he pulled it out of his pants and stared at it. His girlfriend, asking him to come home and not stay out too late. He frowned at it.

Hoseok prodded him and smiled. “Ah, sorry, have I kept you out too late? You better go home – I’ll pay today.”

Yoongi shook his head, pulling out his wallet. “No, no, I’ll pay. Least I could do,” he said. He pulled out some bills and stood up. “Stay and finish eating. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok called as Yoongi began to walk away. Yoongi turned to look back at him, seeing his friend’s heart-shaped smile and calming brown eyes.

“You should do what makes you happy, okay? Don’t get too caught up in who you think you should be.”

“Ah… right.”

He left the restaurant, out into the night. The cheer of the bustling street, filled with happy couples and laughing friends. The happy noise taunted him. Yoongi zipped his parka, shoving his phone deep in his pocket. He could smell the delicious scent of meat and rice from the restaurant behind him, mixing with the faint scent of cigarettes and car exhaust.

He looked up and she was there. Standing a little to the side, speaking with an older guy who was eyeing her tits. She shook her head, moving deftly away from his outstretched hand. Her fingers curled into a fist, silver rings flashing.

“Hey.”

Her head whipped around, eyes widening as she recognized him.

“I thought we were leaving? Come on.”

Yoongi grabbed her hand and pulled her along, burying them in the crowd. Her silver rings cut into his hand, but he held it tight, as if he was afraid that she would run away. After a few meters, she pulled her hand from his grasp.

“Oi, you didn’t have to do that,” she said sternly, frowning.

Yoongi shrugged. “I was just trying to save you the assault charges.”

She sighed and raised her hands, as if she was admitting her guilt. “Eh… alright then. Thanks, I guess.”

It was awkward. They never really talked when she was dating Taehyung, mostly because he knew he couldn’t control his mind when he was around her. She was polite to him, but there was definite distance between them.

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, running the tip of her tongue over her painted lips. Fuck.

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Me?” She pointed to herself and laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, I don’t want to be in a relationship. Just casual sex for me.” She pointed to him. “But aren’t you with someone? I recall Taehyungie telling me you had a cute little girlfriend.”

“We broke up.”

He said it without thinking. His face was neutral. She pursed her lips, watching him carefully.

“Hmm, I see,” she finally said.

He told himself to do it. He wanted it. He wanted it right now.

“Want to come with me for a bit?”

-

That’s how they ended up in the back of Yoongi’s car, her ring-covered hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers. She smelled like dark cherries, sugary and heavy. He felt her hot breath on his lips, her tongue darting out and licking him like a snake.

“What do you want? Your dick sucked? My pussy on your face? Me bouncing on your dick or on all fours?” she whispered, biting his lower lip and tugging on it lightly.

Fuck. All of it and there wasn’t enough time or space. “Don’t tempt me or I’ll rip your clothes off,” he growled.

She chuckled slyly, crashing her lips to his. Her lips were slippery, lipstick smearing against his lips as he kissed her, sucking on her tongue. She moaned into his mouth, so hot and sweet that his cock strained in his pants. She pulled back, lipstick down to her chin. One look in the rearview mirror and he knew he looked the same.

“Damn, Yoongi, you look sexy as fuck,” she breathed, grinning at him.

He felt his cheeks grow hot at the compliment. He hoped the dim streetlights of the parking lot didn’t give him away. She unzipped his parka, pulling his black shirt up his chest. He raised an eyebrow. She smirked, running her nails over his skin, giving him goosebumps. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey, if you’re going to look, let me look too.”

She raised her hands and grinned. “Sure.”

She shrugged off her leather jacket, letting it fall. Pulled down the straps of her tiny white crop top, letting her breasts spill out from the top. His eyes widened seeing her hard nipples right in front of his face. Tinted windows or not, it was still a semi-public area.

It made him even harder, if that was possible.

He reached up and rubbed his thumb against one, breath hitching at the hardness. She raised an eyebrow.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a vanilla boy,” she taunted, rolling her eyes.

His eyes narrowed and he pinched them roughly, making her squeal.

“What was that?” He let his voice drop several octaves, pinching them again.

She winced, but didn’t back down. “Best you can do?”

He gripped her nipples tightly and pulled up, earning him a pained moan. “Who do you think you’re testing?” he drawled, feeling her grind against his lap, too much fabric between them.

“That’s better,” she growled back, cocking her chin defiantly.

He grabbed her breasts and dug his nails into them, rubbing his palms against her nipples. They were deliciously soft, the skin smooth against his callouses. He could feel the cool metal of her silver necklines against his fingertips.

“Take off your jeans.”

She struggled to get out of them, pulling her jeans and panties off together. His heart skipped a beat as he witnessed the string of her juices snap against her thigh, glistening in the low light. The scent of her sex filled the small car, intoxicating him.

“Already wet for me, huh?”

She smirked. “What can I say? I have a weakness for assertiveness.”

He let go of her tits, tracing his fingers on her thighs. The thighs he dreamt about, the thighs he jacked off to when he was alone in the shower, the thighs he watched enviously clamp around Taehyung’s waist right in front of his face. They practically fucked when they were in public and it made him jealous and angry seeing their obvious lust for one another.

He sunk his fingers into those juicy thighs, sucking in a breath in satisfaction. Fuck, they were so fucking soft, so full and sexy in his hands.

“Spread those lips for me,” he breathed, eyes fixated on her pussy.

She leaned back a little, tongue in cheek. His eyes widened as he realized she had a tattoo on the right side of her inner thigh. A laughing cartoonish skull. God, what lucky fuck had done that? She reached down with her ringed fingers and forced her pussy open with two of them, wet, shiny, and quivering, the pink bud swollen with need. His arousal so strong that he would remember it for nights on end.

He reached out and pulled her to him by the waist, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, nipples brushing against his skin. He squeezed the flesh next to her pussy, feeling her juices drip down the back of his hand. She sucked in a breath in anticipation. He turned his hand, brushing a fingertip against her wetness.

“Such a fucking tease,” she hissed, grabbing the back of his head and tangling her fingers in his hair.

He grinned devilishly. “So needy. Tell me what you want.”

Her lips brushed against his, eyes boring into his, burning with desire.

“Finger me with those delicious hands of yours.”

She kissed him, roughly, and he plunged his fingers into her wetness, almost moaning into her mouth as he felt her walls clench around him. He ground his knuckle against her clit as he worked her, turning her into a ruined mess above him. He was sure her juices were dripping onto his pants, covering him with her scent.

“Fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”

He didn’t care if she came or not, just kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, hard and fast. Her necklaces clattered against each other, clinking in rhythm of his thrusts. Each moan was his adrenaline, fingering her so hard she was bouncing in his lap, probably making his car rock with the motion.

He didn’t even care if someone knew. In fact, he wanted someone to know.

Her rings dug into his skin as she gripped onto his shirt, shuddering as she came all over his hand, so slick and wet that he slipped out by accident. He readjusted, but she grabbed his hand, pulling it up.

“You trying to put us in jail?” she snickered, backing up a little.

“If I can still fuck you in jail, does it matter?” he countered, licking his fingers. Oh, God. Sweet with a hint of sour, so fucking delicious that he wanted to drink it out of her right now.

She pushed him up, unbuttoning his pants as she did so. She yanked them down, his bare ass sticking to the leather of his seats. That kind of thing would really annoy him if it wasn’t for her bending down. The metal of her rings felt cool against his cock. She opened her mouth, tongue out and ass up. The image burned into his mind.

Fuck his girlfriend, he should have taken her home so they could have fucked on his bed.

She took him in her hot mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. Down, down. Lips pressed against the base of his cock. He could feel the lipstick leaving an imprint on his skin. Messy and erotic, exactly what he wanted. He pressed his head against the window, groaning as she began to bob her head up and down, awkwardly positioned in the car. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and he moaned, feeling the muscles grip the head tightly before backing up again. The head scraped against the roof of her mouth, making his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. Was getting head ever this good? Were lips really this soft, mouths really this tight? Her hands were gripping his hips, rings pinching his skin a little, but he didn’t care. The hint of pain heightened his senses, mixing with the pleasure.

He felt her pause and he looked down, seeing her mouth open just a little. He felt her tongue press against the base of his balls, teasing them and coating them in saliva.

“F-fuck me…” he hissed, breath hitching as she started up again, faster, tighter. He gripped the seat, not wanting to grab her head and ruin her pace. Her tongue pressed against the bottom of the head and he groaned, feeling the familiar tension at the base of his stomach.

“S-shit, I’m going to–”

He didn’t get to grit out any more words, because they turned into a dragged-out moan as he shot into her throat. She swallowed, holding to him tightly. He could hear each gulp loud and clear, punctuating his damnation. She licked him slowly, softly. He gasped at the sensitivity, squeezing his eyes shut as she milked out every last drop.

His dick slid out of her mouth with a wet plop, limply falling between his legs. Dark lipstick down to her chin, smokey eyes devilishly looking up at him. At that moment, Yoongi knew.

She was who he wanted.

-

Yoongi sat in the driver’s seat, wiping his mouth with a spare tissue. He was a sticky mess underneath his clothes. He didn’t really want to think about what he had just done. He could still smell her, her taste still coated on his tongue.

He sighed. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, turning it back on. He waited patiently, sitting in the darkness. He had offered to drop her off wherever she liked, but she just laughed and said she would be fine.

“I’m worried about the poor fool who tries to pick you up,” he had said with a smirk.

She was halfway out of his car, turning back and smiling.

“No promises.”

He touched the scrap of paper on the dashboard. He should throw it away. He felt the vibration of his phone, loading up all the messages and missed calls. He didn’t have to look. He knew who it was. After a long moment, Yoongi unlocked his phone and swiped all the notifications away.

And then he saved a new contact.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[bigfan-fanfic]

I’m curious. Of all the men you write for, which one, or ones, would you most want to be with in real life?

Oof, that's a good one! Okay, while I find most of the guys I write for hot, here's the ones on my dateable irl list. If I missed anyone, y'all can ask and I'll rate! ;)

I've bolded and colored in the 10/10s because it's a long list and you might wanna just cut to the chase

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) - jk, I can't deal with the Jedi and their hypocrisy. But damnnnnn Ewan McGregor is FINE and Obi-Wan is such a charmer. - N/A

Benny Lafitte (Supernatural) - Hot buff vampire with a killer smile? Would protect me through anything? Not unhealthily codependent with his brother? Yes please. - 6/10 Would Date

Professor Kukui (Pokemon) - Yes please. Happy-go-lucky scientist who moonlights as a wrestler and has the body too? Yay. -9/10 Would Date - gotta dock him for being happily married. Damn. - N/A.

Link (The Legend of Zelda) - My first fictional husband. Yes to the sense of humor, the protectiveness, the love! Although a little bit quiet, poor lad. - 7/10 Would Date

Prince Sidon (The Legend of Zelda) - Look, I'm no monsterfucker, but Prince Sidon believes in me. You think I'm not gonna fall for that kind of validation??? - 10/10 Would Date.

Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games) - Yay for cute soft baker man. I love him and want to protecc. But trauma plus his huge torch for Katniss is gonna make it tough. - 6/10 would date.

Markus (Detroit Become Human) - Handsome and just utterly noble and awesome. Parkouring genius and artist while being just unbelievably rational and emotional all at once. I love him. This android has stolen my heart. - 10/10 Would Date

Hank Anderson - Just kidding. Trying to see if y'all were paying attention

Nathan Drake (Uncharted) - Snarky adventure husband gets all the support for me. Just come home alive, ready for snuggles, and bring home the treasure bacon! Love you, babe. - 9/10 Would Date

Soren (The Dragon Prince) - I love this man. I love his relationship with his sister. I love his nobility and honor even when it's hard. I even love his terrible poetry. most of all, I feel you, man. I want a bread sandwich too. That dad, though. Ugh. - 7/10 Would Date

Gren (The Dragon Prince) - Yayyyyy. Gren, my positive pumpkin man. I love your freckles and cheer and the way you know sign language. Protect me and give kisses! - 9/10 Would Date

Chrom (Fire Emblem) - Adorkable prince of Ylisse, why wouldn't you let my male Robin romance you? You've got a cute personality, you're sweet and clumsy, and you've got that one arm all bared for flexin'! Yum. Pack that up and give me two! - 8/10 Would Date

Odin/Owain (Fire Emblem) - This drama queen is a storyteller and a bisexual mess if I ever saw one, and I am HERE for it. I will pretend with you all day, Odin. Teach me magic and tell me of your undying love for me in as flowery language as you want! - 9/10 Would Date

Alistair Theirin (Dragon Age) - Best man in Thedas right here. I love him. I love his dorkiness. I love that he's not afraid to admit he'd rather someone else lead. I love how he's so young but not afraid to take up a cause he believes in. Total king. Will marry. - 10/10 Would Date

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson) - Those of you who know me might think Percy's too much of a goofball and a dope. Well, you're wrong. I love Percy and I will gladly be his escape from all things mythological while also knowing enough about Greek myth to help him out - 7.5/10 Would Date

Jason Grace (Percy Jackson) - Okay, bud. Jason can be a little bland, I admit. But I still love him for his perseverance and dedication to his friends. I'd love to get to know him better. - 7/10 Would Date

Sokka (ATLA) - Okay, he grew on me after a while and now I love. Let's talk strategy, Sokka. Let me laugh at your horrible jokes - 6/10 Would Date

Haru (ATLA) - I hate the mustache but I love the man behind it - 7/10 Would Date

Hakoda (ATLA) - Mmmm. Sokka and Katara's dad was a SNACK. - 8/10 Would Date

Bolin (LOK) - This himbo was a cutie and I'm lying if I ever say I didn't enjoy seeing him in the Nuktuk costume. Or ripping his sleeves off. Or kidnapped by the Equalists. Just yay, Bolin, and as a bonus, Pabu! - 10/10 Would Date

Tonraq (LOK) - If Hakoda was a snack, Tonraq is a full course meal - look at the size of the man. MMMMM I love him. Waterbender and all around HUNK. And so caring! - 10/10 Would Date and I'm not even gonna dock him for being happily married to Korra's mom

Thor (Marvel) - Chris Hemsworth with long hair and ultimate himbo personality. Nuff said. 10/10 Would Date

Peter Parker (Marvel) - I love this nerd. 10/10 Would... not date because the people Peter Parker dates have a curious trend of dying horribly. Looking at you Gwen Stacy. I like my neck the way it is, so... sorry, Pete.

Pietro Maximoff (Marvel) - We didn't get enough time with this speedy snack. I like his charm and confidence and care for his sister. I wish he'd have at least gotten a real shirtless scene before he died. 8/10 Would Resurrect and Date

Bucky Barnes (Marvel) - Much like Peeta, the trauma is gonna be hard to help with, but I'm willing to make it work. 6.5/10 Would Date

Dick Grayson (DC) - Yes please. Positive, outgoing, friendly, but above all deeply caring and sweet. He's acrobatic and fun, but I feel like he'd love to just relax at home. - 9/10 Would Date

Barry Allen (DC) - Ball of sunshine in nerdy human form. I don't know what more anyone would want in a boyfriend. - 8/10 Would Date

Kyle Rayner (DC) - Admittedly, I don't know all that much about Kyle. But he seems chill and cool and way better than all the other Green Lanterns besides Alan Scott because initially he wasn't affiliated with the Corps so he wasn't a Space Cop. - 7/10 Would Date

Clark Kent (DC) - He's just.... super. And sweet. Yay. 10/10 Would Date

[megthemewlingquim]

Rest

Summary: The holidays exhaust you, mentally and physically. When you go to get up for a yet another early shift at work, Loki keeps you in bed via cuddle lock.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: detailed descriptions of what retail workers go through when they have bad days at work taken from personal experience and the experience of the person for which I am writing this, crying, anxiety, feelings of loneliness, hurt/comfort.

A/N: This is a late Christmas present for @ragnarachael, to cheer her up after what has been (for her) a very hard and exhausting Christmas season. Anyone else who needs this can use it as a way to help themselves. I just wanted to cheer up a friend, so that she knows that she is in fact wonderful and good enough, even when bad days arise.

You wake up the morning after Christmas Day, and all you want to do is go back to sleep. The alarm clock reads 6:45 A.M, and it yells at you. It also blinds you, interrupting the darkness behind your eyelids with white light.

WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE—

You click the alarm off with a muffled groan. You struggle to move, your eyes betraying you and getting used to the darkness yet again. Your body betrays you as well, slowly getting used to the warmth the covers provide you. Sleep seems quite inviting. Those sleeps where you wake up earlier than you want, but then go back to sleep to get those last few hours in? Heavenly.

Also lovely when you have someone beside you to trap you in his arms as if to say, “Don’t go. It’s not time yet, and I still want you here.”

Sometimes, he says that literally.

Loki hates it when you have to get up early. He hates having the feeling of your body beside him be taken away by your job. Sometimes, your schedule is quite nice, with weekends off and shorter shifts on more days during the week to leave you with time for leisure. When it isn’t like that it’s horrible, with multiple days during the week but with longer shifts, and the weekends taken up as the cherry on top. In addition, sometimes you have to get up early. Very early. Like, being there when the store you work at opens to no one early. 

This time, it is a Saturday, and you have to get up early. The day after Christmas.

You had had a two-day break with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Before Christmas Eve you had worked a couple of days in a row.

The holidays completely exhaust you. Christmas especially is probably the worst season to be a retail worker. You’re stuck at the register for your entire shift, waiting for the unhappy customers who, unfortunately, take their confusion and dissatisfaction on you, the person who has no control over what you sell, what you have sold out of, and your prices. Of course, this happens year-round, but due to the hectic nature of the Christmas shopping season, the general unhappiness of the human race is revealed even more.

Every day, your feet ache from standing for hours on end, and every day you go in, you dread working with people who don’t care about you and working for people who don’t appreciate you. On very special days, you are practically yelled at, and then you have to go into the bathroom on your break to cry your way out of your anxiety.

The only good thing about working today will probably be how the Christmas season is drawing to a close. This means less busy days, less busy people, fewer moments with your managers that leave you shaky and terrified.

With that thought doing a little bit to motivate you, you move to get out of bed.

However, you’re held back. Loki’s arms are around you before you can tell, and their grip from behind is warm and comforting - not at all helping you to get out of bed.

“Stay,” is what he pleads. Rather than hearing a groggy voice filled with annoyance at your movements, you hear one that is softer, quieter, “Stay here, please.”

“Loki,” you protest, fighting sleepily against his grip, “I have - I have to get ready, you know that. I—”

“No, you don’t,” he says, waking up fully now. His eyes open and, upon seeing you fidgeting against him, he lets go of you only slightly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Why?” you ask, grateful that he has allowed you to turn around and look at him. You are not mad, just a little annoyed, but your tired brain is unable to let that show. “I’ll be home right afterward.”

He sighs, breathing in and out deeply through his nose. “Sweetheart, you’ve been working all week. You try so hard to mask what’s bothering you, but I know you, and I know how you are with these things. You’re exhausted, you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillows, and every day you have to go into that dreaded workplace, I see you as if you have a weight on your shoulders. I can tell, you dread working there with those people. You hate the schedules, you hate how they treat you. You hate the time spent away from home, from me.  So, why do you keep going when it’s in your better interest to stay?”

“Money pays the bills,” you say with a sigh of your own.

“Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m a prince, and I was once a king. We’re married. If you take me up on one of my many offers, you’ll never have to work again.”

“Stop that,” you say. “Please. I appreciate it, but I can’t depend on you for that. I’ll feel bad about it.”

“You shouldn’t,” Loki says. “I want to do that for you.”

“I am aware, but I don’t want that for either of us. I’d rather play a part in our living.” You move to get up again, but that’s when Loki moves as well, taking you in his arms for the second time.

“Loki!” you whisper angrily, “I have to—”

“No,” he says, a little more stern now. “You do not have to go in today.”

“Why is that?” you huff.

“Because you need to rest.”

“Loki, please let me go, I need to go. I’m supposed to be in the shower already, that’s why I woke up so early.”

“If you will not accept my offer for our future, at least accept this. Accept the rest you obviously need and deserve.”

You have a hard time being mad at him. Yes, you’re annoyed but mad? Never. You sigh. “Loki. I have to work.”

“Do you want to?” he asks.

“No,” you say without hesitation. “Of course I don’t. But I know I have to. I’ll get in trouble if I don’t go.”

“So there are a lot of reasons you need to go, and those are all valid reasons, but you’re not thinking of one thing: your health.”

“I feel fine.”

“Do not try to lie to me. You’re not ‘fine’, as much as you’d like to convince both of us that you are. As I said before, you’re exhausted, and you’re mentally drained whenever you go. You often come home in tears, but you practically fall asleep as soon as we get to bed, so I cannot comfort you. How I wish that you would see this… I want to help you, to give you strength and rest and love, all things you deserve.”

“Loki—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

All this time, Loki’s voice continues to remain gentle. It’s nice to see that despite your persistence, he is not mad at you.

You squirm, trying to get out of his arms. At this point you might even have to call into work, saying you’ll be late. Sorry, my husband wouldn’t let me out of bed. What kind of excuse is that?

His grip holds. “Stay,” he whispers, and suddenly you feel tears rising in your eyes.

You haven’t realized, all this time during the holidays, that you’ve missed him. You’ve missed your husband so much, but seeing him has been hard. With your long hours and your exhaustion and your anxiety, it has been extremely difficult to see Loki and to spend any time with him. He doesn’t seem concerned about this himself, not too much, but he only seems concerned about you, and that makes you feel even worse.

But still, he misses you, too.

“No,” you whisper back.

“Stay...”

Your eyes shut and the tears pour down. “No!”

“Stay here. Stay here with me.”

You stop struggling, completely breaking down and crying fully into your pillow. He lets you go, realizing how you are. Then, with a small, sad sigh, he turns you around to face him. You’re practically limp, motionless as you sob.

“Sweetheart...” he croons, his voice low and soft and everything you’ve been missing. “Sweetheart, c’mere...”

You cling to him, relishing in his touch as he draws you to him for the first time in what seems like years. Your breathing is choppy, rough, and you cannot seem to get yourself calmed down. It’s as if everything you’ve shut out from your mind these past few weeks has been completely unlocked and has come crashing down onto you.

All the while, Loki keeps you close, shushing you gently and rubbing your back in circles. He calls you the prettiest words and praises you as you cry:

“I know, my love, I know. I’ll take care of you. Of everything.

“That’s it, sweetness, let it all out for me.

“This is just one simple thing you need: a good, long rest and some time with someone who loves you. Just rest here with me. I have you here, and I’m not letting go of you.”

As you cry, you notice your exhaustion taking hold of you again. Though it doesn’t seem possible, the covers seem more warm and even more inviting, and the darkness seems to make your eyes even more heavy.

Loki’s hands keep themselves on the back of your head and on your back, all warm and strong and still infinitely tender. He kisses your cheeks and your forehead, all the while continuing to comfort you in the best way he knows how.

“I love you. I love you so much and it breaks my heart to see you this way. You deserve so much... and you haven’t been accepting anything for yourself. You need to do that, beloved.

“But don’t... don’t worry. My love, I’m here. Here to help you. For now, let’s stay here. Stay here together. You need this, and you know it. I love you so much, my dearest. I love you with all my heart.”

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

k i woke up to thirteen unread messages, so let’s just do a fucking blanket text post covering everything so that i can go curl up by the fire with my aus and pussy eating fics in peace, yeah?

spoilers under the cut

hi, yes, hello, i’m still chill and hype

“but diz,” you say into my ask box. “how can you still be hype when kang has clearly demolished everything we’ve worked so hard for?”

because she hasn’t.

“but aren’t you tired of kang doing all this crazy, inconsistent writing? aren’t you sick of her doing everything for the shock value and not being true to the characters?”

sigh.

y’all.

don’t come for my girl like that.

call me delusional if you want, but to me all of this fits perfectly within the same narrative, which has been leading to canon from the day she took the helm. 

i have already done a thousand and one breakdowns as to why carol getting with zeke was caryl-positive, so i’m not gonna go there again, but the leah thing is too.

“but diz--”

shh, i’m still talking. 

picture this: you are a lonely, lonely man who has gone through hell and back, and it took you years to open up to your found family, only for your best friend to explode and the love of your life to go marry a guy who probably worked at medieval times to pay for college, and now you’re all alone in the woods trying to figure out wtf to do with yourself. 

you tell yourself you can keep visiting your niece and her mom now and then, but that kind of sucks bc of the aforementioned best friend exploding, and also you and your niece’s mom had to murder a bunch of small children and that tends to be kind of traumatizing to remember, so it’s not the ideal situation

but at least you still have your girl, even if she is in an indefinite LARP game for the rest of her life. 

but!

then she says, “actually, i can’t come visit you much anymore, what with the whole community, and husband, and child thing,” 

and then you are actually Alone.

and it’s for the first time, because every time before that you at least had your brother, who might have been a piece of shit, but at least he was there. 

so you meet some chick on the road. you’re sad, no longer feel like you have a family (after it took you so long to get one that you actually loved), and you’re more alone than you have ever been, and you meet this chick who is a loner like you, and you’re wary at first. the two of you don’t trust each other, bc you don’t trust easy. but over time you start to build that trust, and she offers you companionship that you are so desperately in need of, and maybe you wouldn’t usually be into it, but given the Literally Everything Else going on, it’s like, why the fuck not? you have N O T H I N G left.

so she gives you an ultimatum--her or what little is left of your family. well, your family is scattered to the wind and being around them only hurts you more, and this person is offering you a chance for something new (and when things get rly bad, hasn’t your go-to move always been to run anyway?) so you say okay. you say you’ll go.

except nvm, she ditched you, lol, you’re all alone again! sucks to suck.

skip ahead, you’re back with your family, and your og girl has dumped the LARPer, and maybe things can be good again, except there’s a bunch of people going full hannibal lecter wearing other people’s faces on their own and murdering everyone, and your og girl is actually insane rn due to years’ worth of unresolved trauma, and you’re suddenly a dad, and you’re being asked to make nice with the guy who literally tortured you, and honestly? it’d be hard enough as is to trust again, but this whole situation is NOT HELPING. 

so by the time the war ends you are tired, and you are hurt, and you are wary, because you keep losing things that matter. and you got back the one person in the world who mattered the most, except she did some super questionable shit, and you’re having a hard time reconciling it, and finally you just Lose It, bc goddamnit, you’ve earned it, mkay? you are entitled to a little blow up. if she gets to literally blow shit up then the least you can do is yell a little, like damn.

but. 

she’s the one person in the world who matters most. a rebound fling over the course of a few months =/= ten years of being soulmates. you’ll forgive her, she’ll forgive you, and the two of you will ride off into the sunset together, almost as if you were suddenly in your own spin-off show. 

what a concept?

/fin/

“alright, but diz--”

OH MY GOD HOW DO YOU STILL HAVE OBJECTIONS?

listen. here is what daryl/leah teaches us:

-daryl is willing and capable of having intimate relationships

-that being said, daryl being in a relationship has been a Big Thing for everyone, regardless of who they ship him with, since s1, so if it was supposed to be The Most Important Relationship Ever to him, the juicy parts would not happen off screen. there’s a reason the sex is only implied. they’re not showing it until it’s the Real Thing

-we now know daryl has had sex in the past ten years, so maybe he’ll actually last more than six seconds when he bones down with carol! very good!

-this also teaches us that hoo buddy, y’all have some mixed morals when it comes to these characters. the “daryl would only be in a relationship if he rly loved them, so how could he possibly love carol still?” thing is like. dude. carol is MARRIED during this, and he doesn’t get to see her much anymore. is he supposed to just walk around jacking it while crying for the rest of his life? the man tried to move on, and the tragic thing is that he got screwed over. i do not think this is out of character at all. i think daryl fell in love with carol, she got married, he was lonely, tried to move on and convince himself he could be happy with this other chick (who might be rly cool, who knows??), and then he got his heart broken again, before it ever really healed to being with. the boy is a giant bleeding heart who is getting stomped on constantly, and y’all better stop yelling at him for trying to feel better or i’ll come for you. this is like carol having rebound sex with zeke. if you want your characters to be realistic then you have to let them do human things, holy shit

this is getting excessive, let’s tie it up.

the main takeaways here are:

-no it’s not out of character

-yes it fits the narrative, kang isn’t just throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, it all has a purpose, which is why i’m totes fine with it

-leah might not actually die, which thank god, i thought it was douchey of them to kill off another woman for Man Pain. i’m glad i’ve been wrong about her and connie both

-oh yeah, connie...i have no new feelings on connie

-daryl now has sexual stamina, so we can all update our headcanons now

-“i can’t believe they end the episode on such a sore note! their friendship is almost destroyed, how will it ever recover??” ...how are you surprised? that was...that was literally the description of the episode, my dude. that one didn’t exactly come out of left-field. it’ll be okay, they’re gonna make up. hopefully through a bunch of hyperbolically tragic misadventures. it’ll be a good time, calm down

-there is a FUCKING SPIN-OFF coming, how can you think they won’t reconcile?

-actually it’d be super funny if they were just giving each other the silent treatment throughout the entire thing lmfao

-“have you seen that new caryl show?” “yeah, it’s fucking weird. there’s no dialogue??”

-anyway

-does it help if i said i secretly thought they might fuck the whole time, specifically for the reasons stated above, and i’ve been kinda into it since the promo but didn’t say so bc i didn’t want to get hanged? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-idk y’all, that’s all i got. drink up ig?

i just found out that i’m literally anemic, and y’all are still more exhausting than anything else. it’s okay to just like. enjoy things. i promise.

now if you’ll excuse me, i have aus to dive head-first into. i’m not gonna say a whole bunch else about shit unless it gets rly necessary. i think i will make this blog relentlessly positive out of spite, and will just post fics and shippy gifs. i have a photoshop free trial (thatigottomakeaberniememe), mb i’ll make sappy caryl gifs as practice and bombard you all with them. feel free to come by for cheering up, but i’m not gonna repeat myself six thousand times, either

stay hype, STAN KANG, and get daryl to call carol sweetheart 2k21,

-diz

[vintage-squid]

Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus  Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together  Word count: 10 363 

----- 

Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

[aserethstorm]

Ever After's 🦢

Pieck Finger x Jean Kirstein  

Also on Ao3!

__________________

Will there be a future after the war?

Whether it brings them to the peace they've yearned for or to even more battles they need to fight. Two wayward souls decided to navigate it together, into this brand new world born from the rumbling.

——————————

It’s a beautiful afternoon, the sun’s shining not too brightly and the sky is a clear blue.

"A perfect time to tend to the garden?" Jean suggests as he lifts the large shovel over his shoulder. Pieck hums, putting on her gardening gloves, already picturing the stubborn weeds awaiting her.

Pieck’s father; Mister Finger greets them as the two exits the opening of their home. Seated on the rocking chair of their porch with a cup of hot coffee and a crisp newspaper at his disposal. Pieck kisses his cheek and Jean tells him where they're heading. The man nods his features softening.

Ever since Pieck broke off her curse: thanks to the help of a certain bespectacled commander and marrying her comrade in war. The once miserable man began to smile, to weave jokes into his conversations. He finally showed Pieck the other side of him that he thought to have died with his wife all those years ago.

He didn’t even complain! Not once when Pieck told him they were moving to the 'damned island of the devils'. Only asking that his humble abode be right next to his daughter so that he can visit often.

“Your father is in high spirits today” Jean comments holding the gate for her to enter. Pieck chuckles both at her husband's words and the sight in front of her. “He’s always in high spirits nowadays Jean...and I’m so thankful he is” she sighs before pointing to Jean where he needed to begin. She bends down, working the knots on the soil.

Duties were still chasing after them like the shadows that haunted them behind. But somehow the two manage to find light in between. Of course, being needed didn’t help as it dwindles the state of their usually empty home.

It takes them an hour and a half before they're halfway done. Their garden is a little bit better than it once before. Jean stabs his shovel on the ground, leaning on it...he wipes the sweat that gathers in his brow. Jean exhales loudly, pulling out the shovel he calls out to his wife. “Hey, we might be able to grow potatoes here too.”

He just realizes upon uttering the last word in his sentence that the memories come rushing back. Memories of a familiar food maniac and their once shared bond. It doesn’t go unnoticed to Pieck as she watches him carefully, her expression solemn at the sight. “That’s nice, the more the merrier.” Jean shakes his head, continuing the task at hand. Though from the way his movements hardened and his jaw clench. He labored the task, troubled.

Pieck grabs the watering can, dampening the now weed-less soil “I wonder how Gabi and Falco are doing...” she absentmindedly asks as she moves on to the next row. This time large plots with living vegetable plants growing in them. Jean grunts lifting the dirt “they're probably attending a school like what normal children are supposed to do.”

He doesn’t notice the long silence that follows. Too focused on the task at hand that he barely hears her utter the next words carefully. He halts, the shovel falling limply to his side, fingers barely clutching the hilt as he turns to her with surprised eyes.

“W-What did you say?”

Pieck looks up to him, smiling like it was just an afterthought. “I’m pregnant,” she spoke albeit slower this time. Purposely drawing out each syllable in the statement. the former cart titan gasps when she finds Jean running to her, lifting her body off the ground as if she didn’t way a thing. She holds on tightly to his shoulders as Jean twirls her around. They both cheer, Jean cheering for both of them since she was too busy laughing at it all.

“Tell me this is a dream!?” He asks eyes bright but slowly being blurred by tears. He remains still with Pieck raised to the air. Her gaze softens as she rubs his cheek, where a single tear rolls. “You're going to become a father Jean,” Pieck confirms, cupping his face in her tiny hands. She says the words as if it was the surest thing in the world, onyx eyes unwavering as she recites the words into his soul.

Jean grins even wider, pulling her close to his lips and into a long-lasting kiss.

________________

“Jean.”

A voice calls and Jean whips around to meet the petite figure approaching him. Wavy black hair flowing softly as she half runs to stand in front of him.

Staring at him with the loveliest abyssal. She smiles and Jean feels his heart tighten. The feeling is neither welcomed nor unwelcome.

“Thanks for having my back, Kirstein.” She nudges, grazing the side of his arm. Jean smiles, silently admiring their height difference. “It’s fine.” He answers.

Only when his gaze turns to the distance, seeing the kids converse with Annie and Reiner that he decides asks “What’s your plan now?”

Pieck pauses for a moment turning her head to her group of warriors. “We’re heading back to Liberio...recover what’s left.” Her voice is soft but it remains firm.

Strong. In an instinct, Jean squeezes her shoulder. Pieck turns to meet his gaze, surprised. “You have us, we're still the alliance after all.” She nods and Jean lets go. The two silently gaze at one another, both pondering on the little act just committed before Connie yells out Jean's name.

________________

They hold hands as they walked back to their home atop the slope. Pieck’s father quickly standing from the porch to welcome them mid-way. As he arrives at their side Pieck shares with him the big news and once again was enraptured in a loving embrace.

Her father smiles, his face now directed towards Jean. The two clasp hands Mr. Finger extending his congratulations to the younger man and they relish a short hug before laughing. They pull Pieck once again between them in that short embrace.

This is getting too much. Pieck thinks but doesn’t at all hate the words. The feeling of so much love between the two men for her was unconditional and she was eternally grateful to have them by her side.

Dinner passes swiftly with the three discussing future arrangements and the way of an announcement to the rest of their friends. Pieck suggests they don’t rush it already imagining the overbearing pampering she’ll be receiving from the lady soldiers she has grown to be acquainted with. Jean smiles at her placing his larger hand above hers, she melts at the sight.

Before they knew it the dishes were cleaned, the table was arranged and Pieck's father was waving them goodbye leaving the couple to their own devices.

After sweeping Pieck plans on finishing her book. Which she hasn’t been able to do in quite a while. The former cart holder hums at the thought, appreciating the tranquil silence that was too soon interrupted by slow jazz.

The music fills her every waking being and she sighs, chuckling at Jean's ridiculousness.

“So is this how it goes...Jean?”

She tilts her head backward meeting his soft loving gaze. Large hands tantalizingly tracing the length of her arms.

Pieck leaves her broom to the side, allowing Jean to sweep her away to the beat. The music is slow and Jean laughs softly when Pieck turns to him, surprised he lead them both back to their bedroom.

The chorus continues and they sway gently to the track that was playing downstairs on the gramophone. Jean holds her hand in his and the other squeezing around her waist. Pieck smiles, she can't help it these days. Allowing her head to rest against his chest as Jean guides her to the steps.

They resume like that for a couple more minutes before Jean gently cups her chin. Making her look up to him once again, accepting her to see the raw undying infatuation and affection the man held for her.

“I love you, Pieck...”

She examines them more and muses the way the burgundy color of his eyes glints at the candlelight before capturing his lips.

Jean was momentarily caught off guard at the action but who wasn’t when it came to Pieck? Instead, he smirks pulling them both to the bed. their lips leaving for a parting second as Pieck situates herself upon his torso. Hands placed on both sides of his head, She cages him.

For a moment they stare at each other, catching their breaths before their tongues collided once again, Pieck delights herself exploring his clothed body with nimble fingers. Making the man below her breathe heavily. The energy around them is burning and Jean makes himself useful by quickly unbuttoning her blouse.

________________

“That was reckless of you Captain Kirshtein.”

Pieck voices, though the tone is not filled with the reprimand and despise Jean was expecting. It was carefree like a trivial thought she tossed at him...just like the way her hands wrapping limply around his neck. Jean huffs pushing up her body further as he continues walking.

It’s the late afternoon and the sun has now begun to set. The two officers have now just departed a global briefing. A meeting compromising the military officials and their plans to do what’s left of humanity outside the island.

“He saw it coming. He knows to never utter those disrespectful towards you...to any of us.”

As Captain, Jean is always there. Always present as he stands side by side with the last two commanders of Paradis’s military and as the former Cart holder Pieck is needed as well. Her knowledge and insight are what are still keeping Marley together along with Reiner. Their duty never ends and Jean thinks he’ll continue fighting until he dies.

You rest when you have already left this world.

The fleeting words of that strange old man he passed by before entering the barracks this morning return and Jean releases a small sigh. Though the battle is over many things have yet to be discussed. This is the price they have to pay...for everything

She lays her head softly on his watching as the sun descends into the horizon. Jean continues looking forward holding her firmly but also careful and gentle.

“Your lucky you’re loved.”

These moments...these precious moments they have together. It began a few years back. Back when the whole world was still scraping the pieces of what’s left.

Official unions are held often and they meet in it all, growing closer. Conversing into the long hours of the night after meetings or military affairs and their bond grew larger than expected. It evolves from there on out...from reassuring words to warm touches. They don’t give meaning to this or maybe it’s just Jean who doesn’t want to give any meaning to this...

too afraid, too scared, too much of a coward. To finally accept this promise of peace and happiness he was deprived of. Who could blame him though? Being a former soldier in the Survey Corps taught this young man to accept that his happiness is fleeting, warm promises meant nothing in the end and you’ll just have to accept the fact that anyone you grow too attached to will leave your side sooner or later.

His thoughts bring him back all those years ago. On that familiar street of that wanted city. The look of emptiness on what’s left of Marco’s face...

“You know what? Let me just take a breather.” Pieck chuckles before carefully plopping off his back and into the earthy ground below. The grass is warm, a little detail Pieck notes to herself as she trails her fingers over its leaves before using them to straighten her skirt.

The two share a solemn silence as they stare at the setting sun. A giant ball fire descending steadily, painting the sky in a cacophony of bright oranges and purples. The beauty of this cruel world never fails to astound Jean. It never fails to leave him gasping for air, just Iike the way he’s holding his breath now.

Looking at her.

Wavy black hair tied in a low ponytail just like the way she tied it back when she was 12. A habit she once told him. The curve of her elegant nose, the paleness of her flawless skin, Tired black pearls that she calls her eyes, trapping the beautiful scenery inside them.

"The world is cruel but it's also very beautiful...Mikasa was the one who said that to me."

"Yeah..."

He continues to stare at her, not caring that the sun has set a decent amount of time before it. He doesn’t care that the stars have now began to appear in the dark blue heaven above and the way she’s now looking at him directly.

“What’s on your mind, Jean?” She asks bopping his nose.

A frightening warrior she is...disguised in such a lovely and beautiful woman.

“You still have to take me back y’know” Pieck jokes, stretching her arms over her head. “That sunset was delightful but I’m afraid I’m going to be late for my curfew.” Marley soldiers visiting the island for business affairs were situated in a residential building in their stay on Paradis and even warriors still need to be disciplined with its time limitations.

She ushers herself to stand only hesitating when Jeans held her hand. Pieck stares at him, watching his emotions shift from a long hesitation to a quick resolve. His burgundy eyes sparkle with hope and Pieck holds her breath.

“Will you marry me?”

He asks softly, eyes shining brighter than any of the brightest stars in the sky. If he asked this of her years back she would have exploited this to her advantage, used him, laughed at him for offering such a thing.

But she got to know him in those years and more. Learning his land, his family,  friends, and him. Understanding every shine and crack that immortalized his past, getting to know him and his flaws and perfections. Without realizing she began to enjoy even more of his presence and her heart made room for him there, etched with care and affection that only grew larger and larger...

She’s sure of her answer as she meets his gaze, lovingly.

“Yeah”.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.7 (BAON)

Summary: Team Rescue is on the way...mostly. Look, they aren't good at names.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge had been on worse car rides, but not many. In fact, he could only think of one; riding in the backseat of his own car with Stretch unconscious in his lap, his life ticking away in decimals as Edge desperately clung to Blue’s instruction that he should think of healing magic as similar to making a hollandaise.

It wasn’t ridiculous if it worked and sitting here in this silent car, hyperfocusing on the mostly empty roads with Blue next to him radiating grim determination and Antwan in the backseat, Edge found himself thinking of hollandaise again.

The mental picture of the saucepan was strangely easing, keeping his turbulent thoughts occupied. In his memory, Blue’s voice was preternaturally calm as he reminded them that all the butter couldn’t be added at once because the mixture would break. Edge followed the direction coming from his phone as the voice assistant instructed him in its robotic way to turn left, (you need to add the butter a little at a time) turn right, (whisk it in), your destination is on the left.

It was only when he pulled into the empty parking lot as directed that the real Blue spoke, his high voice uncertain over the confidence of his imaginary twin, “Shouldn’t the security teams be here?”

“No,” Edge said disgustedly. He threw the car into park and pressed a knuckle between his eye sockets with painful force. “because this isn’t the right place.”

The dilapidated sign over the empty storefront declared with a spooky if faded cheer to be ‘Spirit Halloween’ but the only spirits in this place were the ghosts of customers’ past.

“My brother’s sense of humor,” Edge said, “he’s sending us a message. We went trick or treating behind his back and here’s his trick.”

“Of course it is,” Blue muttered, sinking back in the seat. His gloved hands were tight in his lap, a mirror to Edge’s grip on the steering wheel. “Papyrus probably warned him hours ago that I’d left home. He would have been ready for something like this.”

Edge picked up his phone, his bare thumbs moving with cautious swiftness over the screen. “Yes, he would. Which is why we’re going to follow the other tracker now.”

“Other tracker?” Antwan leaned over the driver’s seat to look at the new directions scrolling up the phone screen. His laughter was uncomfortable, more nerves than humor. “How many trackers do you have on your brother?”

Not as many as he has on me, Edge did not say. “On a normal day, only one.” Edge pulled back out onto the empty street, following the monotone drone of the GPS. “Sans set it up for me when Red pulled his little disappearing act after California and then reappeared to wreak havoc on my kitchen.”

“He did what?” Blue asked and Edge winced internally, barely keeping it from showing on his face. He wasn’t at his best, that much was certain, spilling secrets out in a spreading pool, but caring about that would have to wait. There were only so many directions he could pull his focus for now and Blue was hardly going to take out an advertisement in the paper if he heard anything he shouldn’t. A bit of gossip when it came to office relationships and the local scandals aside, Blue was one of their diplomats and he was well able to use appropriate discretion.

Hopefully, his definition of appropriate did not include asking Red any uncomfortable questions at a later date.

“It doesn’t matter. As I was saying, I usually have one tracker on my brother just in case he gets it into his head to face something he shouldn’t alone.” Edge didn’t quite roll through a red light. Better to not get pulled over by the Ebott police if he could help it, Embassy security certainly had enough on their hands right now without having to handle minor traffic violations. “Except, as I said, Sans gave it to me. Which means it’s only as accurate as Sans wants it to be and he has an unfortunate tendency to match my brother when it comes to deciding he knows what’s best for other people.”

A certain sourness fell over Blue’s expression as he nodded. As both a younger brother and a diplomat he was quite familiar with the ongoing irritation of overprotectiveness, even as he often did the same to his own brother.

“Which is why tonight I added my own tracker to Red’s jacket,” Edge said, “I would have followed that one first, but I was hoping not to reveal it so quickly if I could help it.”

Blue hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t think he’d be expecting that?”

“Of course, but I think he’d have a harder time finding and disabling it. Stretch made it for me.” The memory of his maniacal delight when Edge told him what it was for was briefly allowed, as well as his satisfied triumph when he presented Edge with a device that was the size of match head, tagged with near-microscopic hooks reminiscent of Velcro that were made to catch and cling to any fabric with a mere touch.

His design was with the Research and Development team now, minus the tracking device, as they worked to find a use for it that would allow for them to sell it to Humans, along with a dozen other things he’d created. So many of Stretch’s designs ended up that way, patents in which he was not named used as bargaining chips to help keep their coffers full. Stretch always declared that he didn’t work for the Embassy and that much was true. Instead, he worked for all of Monsterkind, that clever mind of his working to get them the funds they needed establish a place in this world. Only a handful of people even knew it and while Asgore could be foolishly soft-hearted on occasion, he wouldn’t considering paying a large ransom for any citizen on the street, even if they were married to Edge. Stretch was important past his twitter feed and it would be narrow not to suspect that these kidnappers somehow learned about it.

This time the tracker was leading them to the other side of town, down on the north side where the neighborhoods were filled with condemned houses and boarded up businesses. The only industry that thrived there were liquor shops whose windows were barred, manned by cashiers who spent their days behind a thick layer of bulletproof glass. His car was going to stand out like a sore thumb, but it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to waste anymore time by stopping at the Embassy to borrow something more discreet.

At least he could worry less about reprisals from rolling through stop sign; the Ebott police presence on this side of town was minimal.

They made their way through the empty streets without incident. It was late even for the criminal element and a glance down the alleyways they passed showed them filled with shadows that could have been trash cans or curled up humans sleeping amongst them.

Some of the children from the Y lived on this side of town. Actually, most of them did and some of them might well be sleeping on the street right now…no. He couldn’t think of that at this moment, one thing at a time. He couldn’t afford to have his attention ping-ponging around inside his head, not when their destination was in sight.

This time, there were plenty of cars parked in a semi-circle around the building, floodlights pouring from their windows and flashers circling on their rooftops. Embassy security teams were made up of Monsters and Humans, and there were plenty out there in their uniforms. The Ebott police were going to throw a fit about jurisdiction, of that he had no doubt, but that was going to be a tomorrow problem for the Legal department and their FBI connections.

One of the security personnel approached the car as Edge pulled up, both hands raised in a gesture that could either mean for them stop or for him to offer surrender. Edge rolled down his window and he ducked his head inside the car. “Sir, your husband and his friend are both fine,” he said without preamble. “This area is closed off, you should—”

“If you even suggest that I should leave, you’re going to be reassigned to the elementary school playground for the foreseeable future,” Edge said evenly.

To his credit, the guard’s expression did not change. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir. I was going to tell you to park over on the north side,” He pointed to a clearing off behind the other cars. “Your brother is waiting for you up at the entrance.”

“Of course he is,” Edge muttered. “I’m sure we’ve kept him quite entertained with his version of hide and seek.” But he obeyed the direction.

He parked a fair distance away from the circle of the security vehicles and got out of the car, Antwan and Blue at his heels. No one else approached, the rest of the security team keeping a respectable distance away out of either direction from their leaders or simple self-preservation.

Standing near the warehouse entrance and out of the glare of the floodlights was Red, burrowed into his jacket with a Styrofoam cup in his hand and a cigar smoldering between his teeth. As if warned by his instincts or, more likely, through the curling earpiece that was stuck into his audial canal, Red turned to them as they approached. His grin was irritatingly knowing and familiar, pleased as a punch to have held them off long enough that everything was finished but the cleanup.

And yet, it was also such a comfort to see that smirk that Edge nearly went weak at the knees. He wouldn’t be smiling that way if Stretch or Jeff were hurt, even his brother’s sadism had its limits.

“what took you so long, you stop for coffee?” Red snorted. He held up the Styrofoam cup. “coulda brought me some, the shit they’ve got here’d give battery acid a run for its cash.”

“Yes, of course, we got stuck in the drive-thru at Starbucks," Edge snapped. “You’ll forgive me for not bringing enough for everyone!”

Before he could even demand a report, Blue went on past him. Parking lot gravel scattered under his booted feet as he stormed up to Red and swatted the cup from his hands. He paid no mind to the coffee sloshing out over their shoes, his small fists knotting into Red’s jacket front as he hauled him in close to snarl out, “WHERE IS MY BROTHER?”

Even through layers of forced calm, Edge could still appreciate the sight. It was certainly an unusual one. Blue was shorter even than Red and he wore no oversized jacket to give his small frame an illusion of bulk. The overwhelming visual was that of a tabby cat attacking the local tiger and if it were anyone else, Edge might have tried to intercede. It was possible he could have saved their lives, if not their limbs, had it been anyone but their innermost circle.

As it was, he tensed until his brother said mildly, “easy on the threads, baby blue, this’s my favorite jacket. my only one, too. they’re still upstairs. they ain't hurt, so we're lettin' 'em come down in their own time. ain’t no need to rush ‘em. think they needed a mo’ to catch their breath, s’all."

Blue didn’t wait for another word. He let go of Red and turned to the building entrance, running towards it. No one tried to stop him, though Edge noted with approval that one of the security team peeled away from the others to follow him at a discreet distance.

Antwan looked as if he was considering chasing after Blue, but he hung back. With the suspicious nature of a good lawyer, he asked Red, "If they’re fine, why aren’t you with them?"

"sweet that you think me bein' there would be some kinda comfort," Red snorted. "already saw 'em. head on up if you want, we've already cleared away the rest of the honey bun’s little scooby traps." Red offered them a vicious slash of grin. "your liability might need a new rating, he's damn creative when he’s got a hair laid across his ass just right."

That was enough for Antwan. He headed off in the direction Blue had, leaving Edge alone with his brother.

Edge waited until Antwan disappeared before he asked, low, "Where are they?"

Red only looked at him with mild reproach. “toldja, upstairs. what, you think i’d bullshit you on that?”

“I don’t mean them.”

Red was shaking his head before Edge finished. “nuh-uh, nope, not a chance. you ain’t gettin’ a look at those asswipes outside a courtroom. you’re keeping your toes behind the yellow line on this one, sneaking backstage ain’t happening, little brother.”

“I need to see—" Edge began heatedly.

“you fuckin’ don’t. you want to see and your wants ain’t on the list, not this time!” Red lowered his voice, “i get you wanted firecrackers and this is endin’ on a wet fart for you, but i ain’t explainin’ to the honey bun that i stood here and let you add a fresh shovelful of xp to your load on his account. so whyn’t you head upstairs now and go get your liability, huh? take him home and let us handle this, you can read the report tomorrow, yeah?”

Suspicion filtered through Edge’s strained temper, cooling it. Something of his brother’s little speech rang wrong to Edge; it was too consolatory towards him for their normal tastes, something was off here. Now that he was looking at it without his frustrations clouding things, there was also the matter of him leaving Stretch and Jeff alone; comforting presence or not, it was difficult to believe that Red would let them out of his sight unnecessarily. As shrewdly as he could still manage, Edge took a closer look at his brother.

Red did not have any LV but that certainly didn’t mean he had no trauma. His tells were subtle, unnoticeable to anyone who hadn’t watched them develop straight from the gutter. Eye lights slightly narrower than normal, his cigar clenched between too-tight teeth, the rare crackle of crimson magic arcing across his fingertips like a stray bolt of lightning.

There was something Red wasn’t saying, but there was no point in trying to fish it out now; he’d need better bait and Edge already had one in the net to deal with.

Better to leave it as it was. Even if the issue festered, his brother was unlikely to allow it to affect his work. It was difficult not to lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder, however briefly. Edge resisted the absurd impulse. It would not be appreciated. Unwanted concern was more likely to make things worse.

Instead, Edge nodded curtly and headed for the entrance. His boots clacked loudly on the cement floors. Security was milling in the hallways, others crouching over scorch marks and a strange overflowing mass of what looked like multicolored foam oozing down one side of the stairwell. Superfluous information, none of it mattered. He followed the subtle cues from the security personnel, the glances and occasional points that came without questions leading him up the rickety stairs to the second floor of offices and storerooms.

On the landing, a low sound caught his attention, a familiar voice crooning softly. Edge nearly skidded to a stop outside one of the rooms, looking in the open doorway to see the Swap brothers sitting together on the floor, holding each other tightly.

“hey, bro, shh, i’m okay. they didn’t hurt us, sans, i’m fine,” Stretch was saying. Blue was in his lap, clinging like the child he no longer was, and Stretch was rubbing a gentle hand down his brother’s back, leaving behind sooty streaks. He looked up, soft white eye lights catching on Edge still standing in the doorway. His cheekbones were wet, his wide sockets drowning in tears. Stretch scrubbed his face with the sleeve of a shirt that was not his own and managed a tremulous smile. "hey, handsome, miss me?"

He’d seen Stretch only hours ago, dressed in clothing stolen from Edge’s side of the closet and offering flirtatious kisses before walking out their front door. Now he was in baggy clothing that belong to neither of them, the shirt nearly hanging off his narrow shoulders and his bare legs sticking out from the bottoms of the too-short pants to leave the delicate bones of his feet filthy and exposed. All of him was filthy, his pale tears left clean tracks down his cheekbones and Edge did not know what Stretch had done to free them both, what he’d endured until he could., couldn’t begin to imagine it. Or perhaps he simply did not want to, and the precariously thin layer of Edge’s calm finally began to crack. All his desperate worries surged in through that first line of weakness to fill his face and then downward to soak into his aching soul.

"Don't—" Edge choked on the word, unsure what he was even going to say. Don't joke, don't dismiss this, don't ever leave me. He walked over and fell to his knees beside them, hardly feeling the warning jolt from his leg as he pulled them both into his arms rougher than he'd meant. Unnecessary, Stretch came easily, willingly, settling into his embrace exactly as if he belonged there, and brought his brother along for the ride.

"hey, i'm okay," Stretch said, pitching his voice for them both. He rested his forehead against Edge’s, settling a gentle hand on his sharp cheekbone with a sigh. "we’re okay, babe. it's okay."

"It is not okay by any stretch of the imagination,” Edge said hoarsely. His own hands were moving over Stretch, cautious of his lack of gloves even as he convinced himself that this was no dream, these well-loved bones were real. “And if you make a pun on that, you can ride home with my brother."

“wouldn’t joke about it, babe.” Then Stretch promptly made it a lie as he teased, “hope i get extra credit for not stretching things out, actually, ‘cause i sure didn’t get my ‘stay out of trouble’ badge tonight.”

“Pappy,” Blue moaned. His grip in the awful shirt Stretch was wearing twisted as if his disgust needed a physical outlet, “honestly, must you?”

Edge barked a laugh, hard and pained, but in his soul there was only giddy lightness. “No, you certainly did not. I would say any claim that you didn’t find trouble would be stretching things.”

Another groan from Blue was interrupted by a scuffing sound behind them. Edge jerked around, but it was only Antwan holding Jeff in his own tight embrace, whatever whispers between them too low to be heard. Edge hadn’t even noticed them when he first came in and the faint guilt from that was too small to be borne, already swallowed up in overwhelming relief.

Safe, they were both safe and unharmed, and Edge set his anger back, holding it in reserve. No matter what his brother thought, this was not over, and he would not be relegated to the injured group to recover, not this time.

But first, he was taking his love home.

tbc