#i WANTED to make a serious doodle for them but then my brain told me to go fuck myself and gave me this instead

[lovelywingsart]

Me: I wanna make one serious doodle before I sleep and have my new pen My brain: lol no

When your girlfriend is even more temperamental in her mutated form and you're the poor sap who gets to deal with it

[yoyomomiko]

MORE DAISUKE HEADCANONS PLS!!! I LOVE HIM SMMM

Pairing: Daisuke x F!reader

HC: pet names/nicknames, 'texting'!! (passing notes)

Warnings: small mention of dirty talk, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): Omg y'all there's like 7 requests for Daisuke idk how I'm gonna manage to do most of them😣 This is so short I'm so sorry it's also pretty rushed😢 -> m.list

╰┈➤ This is the second part from these other headcanons - part 1

★PET NAMES/NICKNAMES

First off, he's definitely gonna find a nickname for you. Whether it's a shortening of your name, or just based off of something you've done. He wouldn't necessarily make fun of you, yk??

But I still feel like he'd try to find a funny nickname for you no matter what.

His go to pet name is "babe" because uh that's just how he is😁

He laughs when he tries those "cheesy" pet names, he simply can't do it with a straight face!!

Don't ever expect him to call you darling, I mean it's Daisuke we're talking about so let's be honest😀

I feel like he would also call you babygirl but like in a joking way because there's NO WAY he'll be serious while having that word come out of his mouth.

The brain rot got to him I hope y'all know this already😔

He doesn't care what you call him, he loves every word that you spit out no matter your voice or tone

★'TEXTING'

Wonder why there's apostrophes?

Because I feel like around the Tuplar, he'd send you notes just because he's extra

Like, you recognize one another's writing style

He also leaves little doodles for you, on every note he gives. Whether it's a heart or a dinosaur playing basketball, you're gonna have it.

He might have some words misspelled, but it really just kind of depends if he's tired or not (when is he ever not energetic??)

I headcanon that he leaves little doodles EVERYWHERE he writes. Like, if Swansea told him to take notes, there will be some drawing on there.

I feel like at some point he doodled you and him together kissing while Swansea was trying to talk to him, and then Swansea noticed it and gave him a scolding for not paying attention😔

Daisuke sometimes leaves little notes in your room. I mean, he kind of just somehow sneaks in there and leaves you a quick "you're so pretty <3" note. Or it can be anything, really, not only compliments

Imagine dirty talking with him through notes like that would lowkey be crazy

HE CANNOT HANDLE DIRTY TALK AND YOU CAN'T PROVE ME WRONG

I mean like, he just can't keep a straight face. He bursts out laughing if he ever tries, he simply can't.

Daisuke is just so silly😮‍💨

If you two are both working with Swansea, then he would 100% just pass you notes every single minute.

UGH I WANT HIM SO BAD IT'S NOT EVEN A JOKE ANYMORE😟

★yoyomiko ★miko

[subway-boss-jericho]

(same anon that threatened you with art)

legally required to tell you which ones I like- understood. Namely it’s steady tracks (bc I’ve actually had a wip drawing of that for uh *checks files* a… year? And a half?) bc I freaking Love It when the twins become Creature.

by extension that means I adore comebee ingo and emmet and the fossil au and spirit keeper.

those are! The main ones but I really like a Whole Lot of ‘em. Very few will be spared in my (eventual) rampage

whoa epic awesome cool wicked thesaurus.com synonym for great

Welcome to the steady tracks curse! you have it in your wips and then years go by! no one is spared, not even me! /lh

That's a great trio to follow up with though. Those four combined are barely similar /lh You've got the two pokemon AUs and the two ingos in the Oldest Guy Ever club. You love to see it.

But no seriously, this is a serious all star team of favorites. I haven't elaborated on a lot of them beyond the masterlist posts I made, which is super on me, but Steady Tracks, Combee AU and Spirit Keeper Ingo are three of my oldest AUs. By extensionm they're also the ones I am most emotionally attached to. I don't know what form/s it will come in, but spirit keeper and combees are DEFINITELY getting more stuff eventually. I just have to figure out. How. and what, and when.

Fossil AU is one of the ones I've had a while but only started developing more recently, so it's currently in my head all the time. I wish I could elaborate on it but unfortunately it is in the stage of mental illness where I have no idea how to talk about it or explain it to anyone outside of two (2) very close friends. that will absolutely fucking happen though i still stare at that drawing i made a few months ago with fossil ingo and little pearl. i'd fucking kill for little pearl so we're clear. I'm so unwell about fossil it's just in the intangible inexplicable kind of way currently

Downside of having all these AUs is that they all exist in different forms in my head. Spirit keeper is probably supposed to be a comic, but might also end up having longer fic-like sections. Combee AU i want to be a fic i think, but I haven't actually WRITTEN anything for it in SO long. it's gotten swept under the artistic rug in favor of silly doodles. Steady tracks is in eternal hell under the curse, as we all know (nodding sagely)((ITS GOING TO BE FUCKING FREE SOON SO HELP ME GOD)) and I'll be honest I haven't thought about fossil au long enough for it to have a solid medium, but i feel like looser doodle comics would be fun. Or maybe more Big Cool Artwork + smaller written thing. Unsure.

But like, god forbid we talk about Mecha AU or Coupled Uncoupled. The original timeline of the mecha au is an official pokemon animated feature-length movie in my head. I have since developed it in a different direction and I have no idea what the hell I'm gonna do with that. There may or may not be a fully 3D animated goodbye to a world animation for that in the next 3 years because i learned how to model and animate in blender and my power is now unlimited. Coupled (Uncoupled) is a series of Long Fics (like, steady tracks long) mixed with song animatics and animation memes. That thing is so not going to end up being told in the form it exists as in my brain. Many of the other aus are like this

Oh that was a Ramble:tm: my bad. All of this was to say hey, if you ever need a reference for steady tracks ingo, I'm trying to make a 3D model for him rn. It's currently being sidelined in favor of the chapter itself and a 2d artwork I'm doing, but some day he'll be Real. I've got everything modeled except for his legs (hell) and prat of his head (also hell but less) so that's at least something

I forgot where I was going with this. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to fuckin prattle. love prattling. in controlled environments

If you like it when there are Creatures, consider also checking out omgPMD AU and Take My Hand. Similar but slightly different concepts. I imagine you've probably already seen them but I figured i'd mention anyway

Thanks for chatting!! <3 <- i did most of the chatting via ramble but i still value you engaging with my work more than i can put into meaningful words

[firstaidspray]

1, 7, 12, 25, 26, 46

1. What is their backstory and why did you choose it? Anabel's backstory is original and made up by me entirely. The game does not dictate what happened to her before lol. So her parents and sister and herself originally lived in Elturel. Her father fought in the Blood War. But since all the tieflings got told to fuck themselves and leave Elturel, now the family lives in the Lower City, where Anabel's parents run a hotel (not seen in game ofc). Anabel and her sister, Joy, have always been independent souls and would go on these big adventures around the Sword Coast and even into Avernus a few times. She originally wanted to be a Cleric, but found herself too impatient and impulsive and bloodthirsty, so Barbarian it was. Next up, Anabel has a rough relationship with sex and thinks she's cursed in that regard, mostly bc of SA she endured when younger (not going into detail, however Raph does make them pay). So she rarely does it, except one fateful day, she was hooking up with some cute tiefling (note that Anabel only fucks other demons and demon adjacent people) and that's when she got kidnapped and put on the nautiloid. It's a sort of homage to her story in her original verse in which she got killed during sex by accident. She's unlucky in that way.

7. Does your Tav have connections to other characters (I.e.: NPCs)? Raphael of course!! Initially just a devil and the pretty little thing he got to sign a contract, they're married now. Also Joy, who is an NPC to her (player to me when I play as her lol) is her sister so there's that connection as well.

12. How does your Tav feel about Us? Did they free them, maim them or leave them behind? Anabel LOVES Us. A cute brain with legs, of course she freed them and took them along!! She was pretty sad not to find them right after the crash.

25. What does your Tav think of Aradin? She thinks he's a cunt. Full stop.

26. What does your Tav think of the Raphael? I think it's well established on this blog how Anabel feels about Raph but let's gush about it anyways!! Initially, when he transported her to the House of Hope, she was like dammmnnnn this guy is hot and charming. Then he showed his devil form and she was like DAAAAAMMNNN HES LITERALLY HOT and from that point, she was wrapped around his finger. Regardless of whether or not he'd actually help her with the tadpole, Anabel wanted more more more of this man. Her initial reaction to this infatuation was the equivalent of a teenage girl doodling her crush's name and hearts in their diary with a gel pen, but as it went on, her feelings became more serious and along the lines of true love. And, as he watched over her, he felt the same- he does say he "grew quite fond of [Anabel/Tav] in [his] own way" after all. I interpret it romantically/sexually. Meeting him again at the Last Light Inn was a dream come true!! Of course she killed his old enemy- for him mostly, but also for Astarion. She took his deal, of course she did- and in my version, the contract had what was essentially a marriage certificate in one of the clauses, and now they're married forever, because Raphael also came to love Anabel. So they have this inescapable, infernal bond- she loves him, devotes herself to him almost like worship, and not to mention her intense lust for him.

46. Does your Tav help Astarion make a deal with Raphael? Anabel jumped at the chance to interact with Raphael in any way, and she wanted to help her closest friend in the party, so of course she did!!

Thank you so much for asking, sorry for the super long answers LOL ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[inkdemonapologist]

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

nEW SESSION (summary here!), where there’s been an unexpected development to the music issue and its time to [checks my notes] taLK TO THE PROPHET AND BREAK INTO SUSIE’S APARTMENT??? Also, the Prophet and Joey have made.... a truce(???), Prophet is concerned Sammy isn’t going to stay on task now that music is returning and has left him a sort of alarming note, and Jack is uh, trying to hold, too many things, maybe some things he shouldn’t be holding, Jack please put those things back,

anyway heres a stack of out-of-context quotes from our session under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] My favourite thing is, there are so many reasons that Henry could've avoided things that I have no idea WHY Henry isn't affected. [Jack] Like, is he not affected because his art isn't a performance? Is he not affected because he warded his house? Is he not affected because he'S FILLED WITH GLOWING BLOOD?!?

[Jack] He got as far as feeding his cat, and I feel like feeding cat isn't a performance-- [Sammy] Not usually, not unless you sing a song to your cat, which-- [Jack] Awww! [Sammy] -- which, now that I've said that, sounds like something Jack would do actually,

[Sammy] Ohhhh, that's right, Joey just heard some people play some bad notes and start panicking, and then he stood up and passed out, [Jack] Which is probably how Sammy feels every time he hears people mess up music!

[GM] He finds news on the radio, but they’re not talking about that right now. [Joey] What are they talking about? [GM] Something mundane; business or sports or something. [Jack] The, the sportsball team, got a…..uh….. a, a point. Congratulations, sportsball,

[Joey] If the sportscasters sound normal, then Joey is instantly VERY ANGRY.

[Henry] Henry’s not very musically inclined, but he knows some songs, [Sammy] Like, can you hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- [Jack] “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

[Jack] Jack has made a vague list of the kinds of people who seem to be affected. [Jack] There’s also “NOT HENRY?????” with a bunch of question marks in this list.

[GM] He’s told that Peter is out of town for a week. [Jack] Hmm. [Sammy] PETER WHERE ARE YOU GOING? [Jack] Hmmmmmm. [Sammy] Jack, is Peter coming here, to check on you, [Jack] HMMMMMMMMMMMMM,

[Sammy] *exasperated* NPCs Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Challenge [Henry] Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Or Draw 25

[Joey] Peter had never seen a Bendy cartoon, and this needed to be fixed. [Joey] The premier is this weekend, and he sent tickets to Pete to correct this, error, in his ways. [Jack] ...I think it is very slowly dawning on Jack, that this means that Pete has been pulled directly into yet another… supernatural nonsense... [Sammy] WE DIDNT DO THIS ONE!!

[Sammy] I CAN’T BELIEVE PHONES ARE THE ANTAGONIST OF THIS ADVENTURE

[Henry] Oh wait--! oh, no, nevermind, I forgot he and Allison probably aren’t together yet. [Sammy] Yeah, I think they just met; they had a meet-cute where they found out they both like Frankenstein and that’s it. [Jack] They actually got married today, since nothing else was happening at the Studio, [Sammy] That’s why Allison hasn’t shown up, she was busy getting married!

[GM] Bendy might’ve been keeping tabs on Henry, but it depends I guess on how distressed Joey is seeming. [Joey] Joey is probably just going to bury his sorrow in studying magic. [GM] Okay! That’s fine and normal Joey behaviour!

[Sammy] Sammy will note that nothing got done in the music department, because he has good priorities.

[Jack] I like the idea that it’s just like, when the teacher isn’t in, and nobody does the work the substitute teacher gave you, [Jack] Everyone’s just playing pokemon in the back, [GM] I thought you were going to say “poker,” but I like the way you ended the sentence better.

[Jack] HMMMMMM. I wonder if we know, any suspicious women, who were around on that specific day, who are known to have, skill and interest in magical things,  [Joey] And also were aware of the cutouts, [Sammy] *cheerfully* Yeah, weird! Anyway!!!!

[Jack] Sammy was acting weird about Allison. Far too agreeable for a Sammy!

[Sammy] *talking about Prophet* If you want to lock him in somewhere, or restrain him, I’ll cooperate. [Jack] Just handcuff him to Jack! [Sammy] SAMMY IS UNEASY WITH THAT PLAN, [Jack] *laughing* What could go wrong! It’s not like Jack is significantly less strong or anything!!

[Jack] Not everyone makes up their entire self, Joey!!! (Affectionate)!!

[Sammy] I give my word, my sheep! [Henry] How good is your word? [Sammy] I mean. It’s pretty good.

[Henry] Henry’s trying to decide if it would be rude to doodle during this very serious conversation. [Jack] I mean, Jack is taking notes, so I feel like-- [Joey] --you can get away with fake note-ing. [GM] No one will know! [GM] Well, Bendy will know, because he’s up high. [GM] Ceiling Bendy

[Sammy] He’s not gonna give you a grade afterwards, like, this isn’t a lecture, [Jack] Time for Prophet Pop Quiz!

[GM] What’s Prophet writing? [Sammy] Um, I gotta think about this... [Jack] “Dear Frightened Shepherd, that Allison person sure is nice, isn’t she?” [GM] “What’s up with everyone ragging on her?” [Joey] “I think I have finally found a way to bridge the gap between us!” [Jack] “I think you need to replace your sheep, they seem kind of suspicious for no reason,” [Jack] “To Do List: Get Better Sheep”

[Sammy] Does this feel like something that’s trying to take his focus, like, very compelling creative ideas? [GM] Yes. [Sammy] ...Prophet will write “don’t get distracted” five more times.

[GM] His mind is abuzz with thoughts of dancing and actoring, [GM] Ideas to be the best Joey ever! [Jack] Oh no.

[Joey] He will wave at the cutout and make a “come here” motion. [Joey] Though also, he’s looking at the cutout like, I’m not quite sure how this works, but I’m going to trust you that it works! So I’m going to do this and see if Bendy shows up! [Jack] Like someone trying to learn how to do phone video calls for the first time, [Joey] YES. Joey’s actually like really close to the cutout, and the motions -- you can make them out, but it’s really awkward,

[Sammy] They’re in no danger. I will take care of the Shepherd’s sheep. [Jack] ...JACK’S BEEN DOWNGRADED!! He’s no longer PROPHET’S sheep!

[Joey] I like how everything Prophet says really just feels like, Knife Cat face.

[GM] You could probably make a Mythos roll to figure it out. [Joey] *rolls* Oh! Extreme success! [GM] Joey’s back!

[GM] Bendy will lead Joey back to the room, where hopefully there are three alive, non-fighting boys!

[Jack] Part of me was like, “What if Jack DOES turn into a cat…?! It’d be pretty hard to write things!” [GM] *laughs* We’ll keep that in our back pocket, in case Jack ever fails a Mythos check. [Jack] Meowthos check…

[Henry] I’m going to have Henry look, look with his Special Eyes.

[Sammy] *failing a roll* Prophet is just, NOT on the ball today, in any way shape or form. [GM] Really hard not to think about music. : ) [Sammy] Ohhhhhh boy, [Jack] Prophet just writes a note to Sammy that says “HOW do you LIVE like this???”

[Henry] Henry’s gonna try to scribble what he remembers of the symbol!  [Sammy] Didn’t we learn, from the last scenario, about reproducing weird symbols, [Henry] No.

[Joey] Did Joey get burnt? [GM] Make a dexterity roll! : ) [Henry] *mumbling* Y’all this entire building is made of wood. *Joey fails* [GM] 1 point of damage, you singe your hand -- on the plus side, you kind of were holding it as it burned up, so it doesn’t fall on the wooden floor. [Sammy] OH GOOD, we’re not LOCKED IN A CLOSET that’s about to burn down? GREAT!

[Joey] We could head over to the infirmary -- [Jack] Jack is already pulling the burn ointment out of his bag. [Jack] He’s prepared this time! [Jack] He’s been practicing, he knows what you’re all like,

[Joey] Joey will give him a smile that’s most recognisable as the “I know you will do good!” smile. [Sammy] Prophet will also smile! It is not a friendly smile. [Jack] It’s a “smile” in quotation marks, but it’s like, baring your teeth as an act of aggression. 

[Jack] Jack lets him go to do the call, but just before he picks up the phone, he says, “Don’t call him Petey.”

[GM] The phone rings, and is not answered. [Joey] Okay! Joey hangs up, says Peter checked into his room, but is not answering. Most likely asleep. [Jack] Half of my brain is going, “what if he’s just stood outside Jack’s house?” The other half of my brain is concerned about manias. I hope he’s not decided that now is a really great time to do more writing, and now he can’t stop, and this could go wrong-- [Jack] This is what Jack’s mind is doing, thinking of all the terrible possibilities. [Joey] While humming. [Jack] ...yes. He’s writing some very troubling lyrics.

[Sammy] *talking about Jack’s compulsive humming* Like Cornifer, [Jack] *starts humming Cornifer’s theme* Dangit, now it’s in my head, why would you do this to me? [Sammy] It’s in character! [Sammy] Method acting. : )

[Joey] Joey’s going to grab supplies to make sure Bendy can… hang around with them! [Joey] Sleepover supplies! Let’s grab your sleepover bag! :D

[Sammy] I don’t know why the idea of a wild Bendy running around across the rooftops is so cute to me… [GM] Probably on all fours, [Jack] Scampering,

[Jack] It’s a good thing Henry’s around because I don’t think Jack can… carry??? An entire Sammy??? [Jack] Like he’s good at holding but he’s not strong at holding.

[Joey] We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours… [Joey] WAIT. We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours!!!

[GM] Bendy hides under a blanket or something. [Jack] Comfey… [GM] Cozy boy, [Joey] Bendyrito. [Sammy] BENDYRITO,…….. [GM] Rolled up… snug...

[GM] Is everybody coming into the apartment, or just the two? [Jack] Hmmm….. Jack isn’t fond of either of these options. Going in is suspicious and weird; staying outside makes it look even more like they’re breaking in, to steal things, as opposed to, y’know, breaking in, for,,, “good” reasons(???) [Sammy] We’re not breaking in, we’re just walking into this apartment! What’s so weird about that?! [Jack] That’s breaking in. That’s what breaking in is, Sammy. [Sammy] They don’t have to know that we don’t belong here, maybe Susie gave us a key! [Jack] ...they heard us knocking. [Sammy] [Sammy] We’re BEING POLITE!! SHUT UP!!

[Henry] Jack, did you pick up kleptomania.. [Joey] I thought Jack picked up Being Prepared! [Jack] H-he’s just hoarding a little bit!! It’s fine!!! It’s very, useful, see, already Joey got injured!! It was useful to bring lots of things with him okay!!!!!!!!!

[GM] They do not have the police called on them, so that’s nice. [Sammy] Oh good! [Jack] Thank GOODNESS. [Henry] Love when that happens! [GM] If you guys got arrested, the Lurker’s just out in the car all night, [Henry] oh NO, [Jack] Worse punishment than jail… [Joey] Lurker learns how to drive for fun. [GM] *laughs* Gets curious, [Joey] “I said I wouldn’t leave the car, but--”

[Joey] WAIT. There’s a very important factor that we just decided but didn’t say. [GM] Oh? [Joey] If we have Henry heading home, and everyone else sleep over at Jack’s…. [Joey] ...the Lurker finally gets to meet a cat. *everyone gasps* [Jack] Oh that’s SO important

[Henry] And Henry will probably look at these, while in the car, to make sure they don’t have any gold writing on them-- [Sammy] Isn’t Henry driving??? [Henry] ……Henry is not going to look at them in the car,

[Sammy] We’re all going to bed, Sammy, you don’t need a banjo to sleep! [Joey] You might sleep worse if you have a banjo, actually. You might not stop.

[Sammy] Jack you wanna join us? We’re gonna just jam all night! [Jack] It really is Jammy… [Sammy] *laughs* TRUE Jammy!! Real Jammy Hours… [GM] That makes it a pyJAMa party… a real jammy jam…

[sunrisefairy]

Sketches

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Y/N likes drawing people. More specifically, she likes drawing George Weasley. Which is fine, until she loses her notebook and George is the one who finds it. 

A/N: Okay so because of lockdown and me having legit nothing to do i spent the last 2 days writing this fic for @teawiththeweasleys​ writing challenge and i couldnt wait to share it with you. im lowkey very proud of it so i hope you all like it 

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines message me if you would like to be added!

Ever since Y/N was a little girl she was always drawing whether it was scribbles of her family, animals, magical creatures or plants, you could always find the girl with a pencil and paper somewhere nearby. For as long as she could remember her home was covered in her drawings, Y/N’s mum and dad would frame and hang up all of their daughters’ drawings all over the walls. They were so proud of Y/N’s creativity and encouraged her to keep creating her art. It had become a tradition that every year for her birthday Y/N would receive a new notebook and pencils form her parents and it was always her most cherished gift.

Over the last few years Y/N has become very intrigued with drawing faces, she loved how she could capture a person’s emotion with just some charcoal and parchment. More recently when Y/N was sketching she’d try to focus on the subtle and small features that make humans unique and beautiful, may it be the way their eyebrows arched in curiosity or the dimples and freckles etched into their skin or small wrinkles that danced near their eyes when they smiled. Y/N loved it all.

Because Y/N was so captivated with how facial features made everyone unique she found herself draw a particular ginger a lot more than anyone else. George Weasley. Everybody at Hogwarts knew George Weasley was the twin to the confident and loud Fred Weasley. And being that they are identical twins they look very similar. Y/N found it fascinating trying to pinpoint their minor physical differences and she had become quite good at it.

Her brown leather notebook, which if it wasn’t in her hand was usually found stuffed in her book bag, was full of sketches of George. It started of gradual, her drawings of the sweet boy. Y/N was usually found sitting on a bench in the courtyard if the weather was nice, drawing anyone she saw nearby and normally it was someone new each time. But when her eyes landed on the loud group of Gryffindor boys, she felt a pull to the tall boy with fiery hair who was standing next to his twin, both taking turns to tell a story which had the rest of the group engrossed. Y/N wanted to challenge herself, it was simple, she wanted to capture the features that made an identical twin unique.

Y/N spent the last few weeks ‘studying’ George in a very non-threatening and not at all creepy way. The pair had a few classes together being in the same year at school but the two hadn’t really spoken much to each other. So, Y/N admired from afar, normally from across the great hall or in class. She quickly learnt that George’s face was longer than his brothers, his eyes were more slanted, and his lips had a curve in them that was more prominent when he smiled, something he does a lot, Y/N observed.

~~~

The weather was particularly nice on this Saturday afternoon, so naturally Y/N found herself on a bench in the courtyard with her pencil tin open and a range of charcoals scattered around her as she doodled in her notebook (the one which wasn’t unofficially dedicated to George).

“Hello there little Gryffindors-” Y/N heard a voice call from nearby, the voice belonging to Fred Weasley. George was standing next to his twin and the duo were chatting to some unsuspecting first years.

“-anyone fancy a nougat? They are delicious” George finished; the twins shared a mischievous glance at each other.

Y/N quickly grabbed her other notebook and some charcoal and began sketching the boy’s face focusing on the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed at the poor Gryffindor who accepted the free candy which turned out to be a nosebleed nougat. Y/N was absorbed in her sketching she didn’t notice her best friend sit next to her, peering over her shoulder.

“Ah, drawing your lover boy again I see” Alicia chuckled as Y/N slammed the book shut.

“He’s not my lover boy, I’ve already told you; I draw him to-”

“-capture the features that make an identical twin unique. Sure, so if I flick through your other notebooks, I’ll find one dedicated to Fred too then?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “shut up.”

“Come on creeper, we told the others we’d hang out today.” Alicia pulled on Y/N’s hand as she quickly threw her notebooks and pencil tin in her book bag.

“Merlin, hang on! You’re gonna rip my arm out of its socket!” Y/N giggles hoisting her bag strap higher up her shoulder.

The two girls walked off, arms linked and laughing, neither one noticed the lone notebook that was left on the bench.

~~~

George, Fred and Lee were heading towards the great hall after their amusing interaction with a group of first years when the younger twin noticed a brown book perched on a bench. He detoured that way to pick it up, flicking through the pages in hopes he will find who it belongs to so he can return it.

George furrowed his brows as he dove deeper into the book. He expected it to be filled with notes and writing but he was not expecting to see drawings of people; of him and Fred. But as he looked closer, he quickly realised that they weren’t sketches of him and Fred, just himself.

“Oi! What are you doing? We’re gonna be late for dinner” Fred’s voice pulled him back. George shoved the notebook in his pants pocket and hurried after his twin very confused as to why the notebook was filled with drawings of him.

Later that night George found himself sitting on his bed in his dorm room flipping through the notebook. These drawings were incredible, whoever it belonged to had some serious talent but he couldn’t get over why someone had drawn him, let alone multiple drawings. Each sketch was different to the last though, some were of his whole face others just of his eyes or mouth. George was in awe of the skill this person had; they had managed to capture his face perfectly.

Some might view finding a notebook filled of drawings of themselves a little creepy, however George Weasley found it flattering. You see, for his whole life, George has seen himself as the other half of Fred. Most people in their lives couldn’t tell the pair apart and opted to talk to them and refer to them almost as if they were one person as FredandGeorge and not Fred and George. This notebook was proof that someone out there noticed George as a singular person, an individual, which made George’s heart flutter.

~~~

“Oh godric” Y/N mumbles pouring out the contents of her book bag on the table.

“Hey, Y/N relax. I’m sure it will turn up eventually.” Alicia says in attempt to calm her friend down.

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, very stressed. She had been searching for her notebook all morning with no luck worried that the wrong person had found it and would deem her a creepy stalker.

“How can I relax when my notebook-the notebook which is filled with drawings of George Weasley-has gone missing. Oh merlin, whoever has it will most likely recognise the drawings of George and give it to him and he’ll eventually find out that it belongs to me and think I’m a freak” Y/N’s arms are frantically waving around to empathise her point as she paces up and down the room.

Alicia stops in front of her friend, placing her hands on her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly “Y/N breath. You’ve told me a million times that those drawings are just about capturing someone’s facial features, right? It’s not like you have a crush on the guy so it doesn’t matter if anyone thinks that, because it’s not true.”

Y/N’s sketches of George Weasley had started just as Alicia said but it quickly turned into Y/N possessing a small, okay maybe huge crush on the red head and her trying to find any excuse to stare at him and draw. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest at the thought of George being the one to find her notebook. There was no way George wouldn’t be freaked out and think Y/N had some weird obsession with him.

“Okay so when was the last time you remember having your book?” Alicia questions.

Y/N racks her brain trying to remember, “yesterday afternoon. In the courtyard on that bench, I was drawing him when you came over. I’m sure I put it in my bag but I haven’t seen it since.”

Alicia nodded, the two deciding that was the best place to start.

Y/N practically sprints to the courtyard, luckily there wasn’t many students here, giving it was a Sunday morning and everyone was probably still sleeping. The two girls look around trying to spot the leather book. Y/N sighs in defeat, collapsing onto the bench and groaing into her hands.

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe I lost it. I’m so stupid”

“Err, Y/N” Alicia nudged her friend’s shoulder.

“Geez, thanks Alicia, you’re meant to say ‘No Y/N you’re not stupid’”

Alicia widened her eyes at Y/N before glancing behind her, “look”.

Y/N follows her gaze and freezes. George Weasley was walking towards them, that in itself was strange but it wasn’t until Y/N looked down at George’s hand and noticed the missing notebook.

“Oh no.”

George had figured whoever misplaced the notebook would probably come back to the last place they had it to search for it. He was hoping for that at least. Not only did he want to return the book to its rightful owner, he also wanted to thank them for seeing him, for noticing him.

As George rounded the corner his eyes scanned the courtyard and were met with Alicia Spinnit and Y/N L/N sitting on the same bench he’d found the notebook on, bingo. Judging by Y/N’s wide eyes that were glued to the notebook in his hand and how Alicia gave her a pat on the shoulder before disappearing, George figured the drawings were the work of Y/N. George’s heart sped up with this information. The two of them weren’t close but were friendly having shared some classes together. George had caught himself on more than one occasion glancing at Y/N during lessons and mealtimes, wondering what it would be like to get to know her. Guess now he has a chance.

His feet stopped a few paces in front of the bench as Y/N gawked up at him.

George cleared his throat, “uh I believe this belongs to you?”

Y/N basically snatches the notebook from his fingers, feeling insanely embarrassed and when Y/N is embarrassed, she rambles. “Oh merlin, I’m so sorry! I’m guessing you looked through it, of course you did. I would have too if I stumbled across a stranger’s book. I’m also guessing you realised all the drawings were of you. Look I’m not some stalker, I swear. Like I’m not some girl that has a massive crush on you and decided to fill a notebook with drawings of you… Well I do have a crush on you. But I promise I didn’t mean to be creepy. I just, I like drawing people and you have a nice face.” Y/N chews on her bottom lip, forcing herself to shut up.

George opens his mouth and closes it a few times as he processes the girl’s words. “Wow, um- I want you to know that I don’t think you’re creepy at all. I was actually really flattered looking through your pictures. It’s nice to know someone sees me as me and not as an extension of Fred.”

The two stare at each other for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say.

George moves to sit beside Y/N, close enough that their thighs are touching, “they are really good by the way. The drawings I mean. You’re very talented.”

Y/N blushes at his words, “thank you. I don’t normally share my art, with the exception of my parents and Alicia.”

George places a hand over his heart, “well in that case I feel very honoured.” He runs his fingers through his hair as Y/N giggles before continuing, “I know we aren’t super close and I kind of hate that it’s taken me this long to ask but would you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like a date.”

Y/N fiddles with the notebook in her lap trying to hide her excitement “for sure, I’d love that.”

George lets out a sigh of relief, “great, well what are you up to right now? Maybe we can hang out and you can draw more pictures of my handsome face.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and playfully shoves at his side “careful, your head might explode with all that ego. But yes I’d love to hang out with you right now.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

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

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

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

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “As in bi-curious?”

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

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

    ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

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

  He’s lying. You can tell.

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

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

  He’s angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

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

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

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

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

  “Tell you what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

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

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

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

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

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

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

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

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

  “You’re bossy today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

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

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

        ||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Thank you.”

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

  “Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

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

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

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

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

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

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

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

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

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

  “Last time you said that…”

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

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

  “What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

  “Who is it?”

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

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

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

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

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

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

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

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

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

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

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yoongi, what-“

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

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

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

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

   Brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Why not?”

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

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

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

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

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

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

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

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

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

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

   ||\\

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

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

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

  No. He promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m sorry.”

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

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

  “What, now? Y/N-“

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

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

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

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

  “H-How come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

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

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

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

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

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

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[meteorrogers]

the secret charm of forbidden things | a. b.

summary: you piss off your professor 

pairing: professor!andy barber x reader

warnings: professor/student relationship, student humiliation (nothing serious), fluff, smut (+18 pls), daddy kink, spanking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (and like the most unoriginal plot); let me know if i missed something!

word count: 3,478 (approx)

a/n: i really tried to avoid writing this shit but my brain just wouldn’t let it go, so i’m really sorry for this. also, i’m not a smut writer so this couldn’t be more poorly written. sorry for that too *nervous laughter* i hope there are some readers out there who enjoy cliché stories lol. oh and i know nothing about criminal law so i just skimmed through the Mass. laws and picked the easiest thing i could create a question of. anyway, if you do read this, i hope you’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! every kind of feedback is appreciated!! 

You’re browsing the internet, looking for some quality e-shop that would offer lingerie you’d like. Or more importantly, he would like. And since your focus is completely on the phone that is hidden from the professor’s eyes (or so you think), you miss the call of your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” the stern and this time louder sound of a male voice brings your attention to the man that it belongs to, standing only a few feet from your seat, thanks to its place in the front row. His expression is hard, a clear sign that you’ve been caught and you shrink into your chair, your cheeks becoming warm. “If you want to pass my class, I suggest you turn off the phone and focus on the lecture.”

You do as you’re asked and put the phone away but you don’t expect him to address you again.

“So since you seem to have enough knowledge that you don’t even need to listen to me,” he pauses and comes closer to you, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the punishments for organ trafficking are.”

You hold your breath, not even realizing it as you’re trying to think of the correct answer, however, that’s a little difficult with him towering over you, and your eyes can’t help but flicker to his crotch that is aligned with your vision. When you look up again, there is an amusement painted over his face which you almost miss to notice. 

“Um, imprisonment?”

The professor keeps looking at you expectantly and when you don‘t say anything more, his chest heaves in a deep sigh, and his eyebrows rise as he looks at the floor in disappointment. “You’ll be having a hard time getting clients, Miss (Y/L/N),” he tells you and goes back to his desk to lean his backside on it.

Okay, you weren’t paying attention but you also thought that the times when professors publicly humiliated students had been left behind. So, now you are not only embarrassed but also pissed.

You just roll your eyeballs and slightly shake your head, taking a pen and doodling in the open notebook laying on your desk in order to calm yourself down and trying not to think about the judgemental stares being sent your way.

“Does anyone here want to remind Miss (Y/L/N) the consequences of organ trafficking?” he asks, before fucking Amelia raises her hand with her all too sugary may I, professor Barber? and you nearly lose it. You watch him as he sweetly smiles at her and prompts her to answer. She does, correctly so, and while she’s going into details, he lets his eyes wander and rest them on you from time to time. You never avert your eyes, glaring at him, hoping he takes notice of the annoyance written all over your face, but he just smirks when she finishes talking and he looks back at her.

“You’re a brilliant student, Amelia. I think you deserve a reward for the hard work.” When he stresses the word reward, he gives you a glance, and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling, again.

“Alright, class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to send in the paper that’s due Sunday. Enjoy your weekend.”

You pack your things, shoving them into your bag before storming towards the exit, but you don’t make it too far when the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Miss (Y/L/N), a moment, please,” he says as he gathers his things. You sigh, closing your eyes as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. Turning around, you make your way towards him. 

“I believe we need to discuss your work ethic.” when you remain silent, he continues. “Great, since you don’t have any objections, you can follow me into my office.”

You do as you’re told and while you wait for him to unlock the door in the corner of the auditorium, you catch a glimpse of Amelia giving you a smug smirk. Mr. Barber finally opens the door and extends his arm, letting you in before him. You enter and stop in the middle of the office, nervously fiddling with the hem of your pleated black skirt as you hear a soft click signaling that the door is now closed, followed by the snap of the lock.

You gulp, your heart beating faster as you continue to stand there and try not to give away your nervousness. The only sound that follows is the echo of his footsteps as he walks past you and to his desk, putting his stuff on the wooden surface. He doesn’t say anything, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his moss green dress shirt up to his elbows and the veins of his forearm are left on full display.

“Mr. Barber, I—“ you finally speak up but he cuts you off, making his way towards the comfy-looking couch sitting alongside the wall opposite of you. 

“You wanna tell me what that was about? You know I have a no-phone policy in my class, right?” he sits down and spreads his arms on the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I was just—“

“You were just what? Looking for some skimpy underwear to tease me with during the lectures?” the blood rushes to your cheeks and you look to your left, not able to hold his gaze anymore. “As much as I’d enjoy that sight, I’m still a little disappointed in you. The question wasn’t that hard.” He’s closely watching your every reaction as your body squirms, your thighs discreetly rubbing against each other. “You know, Amelia truly is a great student. She’s slowly becoming better than you since you seem distracted for most of my classes. What reward do you think I should give her?”

And that is what causes you to run out of patience and your head to snap to where he is sitting. Bingo, Andy thinks.

“Are you fucking serious, Andy?” you say with a raised voice. If you blinked, you wouldn’t even catch the smirk that formed on his lips for like a millisecond.

“Hey!” he scolds “Watch your tone.“

You ignore him.

“Since when do you humiliate your students in front of the whole class, huh?” you confront him angrily “It was a dick move, Andy, you know that! And then the bullshit with Amelia? If you want her to wet your dick, just ask her, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Come here,” he says calmly which unsettles you because you expected him to be furious given the way you’d lashed out at him, but you roll your eyes anyway and turn to leave, however, the sound of your name coming from his lips stops you. “(Y/N).” you inhale deeply and turn back to him. “I said, come here.”

You come up to him, still keeping your distance so you don‘t stand between his spread-out legs. “What?” you bite.

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re walking on very thin ice, sweetheart.” He says and you feel your belly doing flips at the nickname. “How about you lose the attitude and come here like I instructed you to.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How about you go fuck yourself.”

And that’s the last straw. Andy Barber is a very patient guy but when it comes to a bratty behavior like yours right now, he tends to lose his temper pretty quickly.

He swiftly leans forward and grabs your wrist, yanking you between his thighs. You have to catch yourself on his broad shoulders as you stumble from the firm tug, your stomach flush against his chest. His hand grabs the strap of your bag, putting it on the floor before his fingers fall to the back of your thighs, sliding up and up until they rest just below the cheeks of your ass, holding you against him.

“You wanna be a bad girl today, huh?”

You frown and click your tongue. “Jesus, Andy, I’m not in the mood for this.” You start pushing against his shoulders to put a distance between you, failing miserably.

“Sweetheart, you’re not even trying. You think I’m stupid or what?”

“I’m serious, let me go,” you say, but you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“You’re not in the mood, you say?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then why do I smell you all the way here, hm?” his fingers creep higher, playing with the lacy hem of your panties. He snorts. “You’re desperate to get fucked, aren’t you?”

By now, your panties are drenched. After what he did to you in the class, you tried so hard not to be turned on by him, but it’s impossible. Andy is a very attractive man, very intelligent and in combination with his sinful mouth, you just can’t bring yourself to not want to be fucked by him.

He doesn’t break eye contact when he hooks his fingers into your underwear and slides them down your legs, until he leans forward, his cheek brushing your hip so he can pull them all the way down himself. You step out of them and his back straightens up, putting the piece of ruined fabric into his pants pocket.

“Get over my knee.”

“Andy, come on. We’re in school. Can’t you just fuck me now and spank me later?”

“Oh, so suddenly you are in the mood?” he raises his brows “Get over my knee. Now. You don’t wanna piss me off more than I already am.” He says sternly.

You unhurriedly move from in between his legs but you’re too slow for his liking. Before you can react, he’s once again yanking you by your wrist, twisting your body in a way that makes you fall over his thick thighs. One hand gently settles on your throat, holding your head up, and the other starts tickling the back of your knee before slowly creeping up your thigh, tucking up your skirt, until you feel the cool air of the room brush against your wet pussy.

You clutch his pants in your hands, and when his palm leaves your skin you prepare yourself for the first blow. Instead, he gently sets it down on your butt again just to caress it, but even that unexpected touch has you jerking forward. He laughs and before you know it, the hand lifts itself up and strikes your right cheek. This time your body jerks rightfully but the fingers around your neck tighten, preventing you from moving too much.

“Not so tough now, huh?” he strokes the sore skin. “How many do you think you deserve?” you shrug as best as the restraint allows you to. “If I remember correctly” he pauses, just to brush his fingers against your pussy lips, smiling to himself when he feels the arousal leaking out of you “You weren’t paying attention in the class.” He spanks your other cheek. “You were using your phone even though it’s forbidden.” For that, the next hit lands on your right cheek again and you don’t think before you dare to open your mouth.

“Really? You are gonna lecture me about what is and isn‘t forbidden? You’re fucking your student for God’s sake.”

“Just for that, I’m adding 5 more to the ones for raising your voice at me, lying to me, and disobeying me.”

He spanks you for everything he listed, caressing your sore butt in between each hit and you are on the verge of crying, the tears in your eyes about to fall down your cheeks. When you think he’s finished, you release a relieved breath, but suddenly, he strikes you three more times, without any break and you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, the tears finally rolling down.

“That was for the eye rolls I received throughout the day.” He says angrily before leaning down, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers. “Now, what do you call me when we’re alone?” You just need a minute to catch your breath to reply but he’s not having it. “Answer me right now, or I’ll spank your ass raw, you won’t even be able to sit right. What do you call me?” he asks again.

“Daddy.” You whimper quietly and he smiles.

“Good girl.” He forces your body up with the hand on your throat and throws you on the couch, but before you can make yourself comfortable, he flips you on your stomach and grabs your hips, pulling you up so your ass is in the air.

His touch disappears for a moment and when you adjust your head to be able to get at least a little peek at him, your cheek pressed into the couch, you see him loosening his tie. He grabs your arms and crosses them at your wrist on the small of your back, tying them together with the piece of fabric.

He kisses each palm and then continues up your bare arm, licking, sucking, and biting, until his lips reach your shoulder covered by the short sleeve of your white t-shirt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He knows you are, but just to be sure.

“Yes, daddy.” You smile and he tugs the neckline of your shirt away for a second just to kiss your skin.

Then, he kneels on the floor behind you, coming face to face with your weeping cunt and he needs to adjust himself at the sight. He curls his fingers around your thighs and starts kissing them, getting closer to your core and his eyes close on their own accord when he inhales your smell. His lips finally make contact with your lower ones, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance before he pulls away and hums, leaving you trembling. 

“Andy!” You whine from the loss as your frustration grows, and he bites the tender skin of your ass.

“Baby, call me Andy one more time and you won’t be coming for a very long time.”

Your breath shudders when you exhale. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

If it was any other time and any other place, he would take his time to properly punish you, but someone could knock on the door any second and he’s honestly been dying to devour you all day.

He spreads your cheeks and leans forward, finally burying his face into your cunt, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerves and you moan, your eyes rolling in your head from the feeling of his soft tongue relieving the ache combined with the feeling of his rough beard scratching your inner thighs.

Andy takes the bud between his lips, sucking harshly and you buck your hips, causing him to grunt and the vibrations go straight into your clit, more slick dripping from your hole. He doesn‘t let a single drop go to waste as he licks up to your entrance, slurping the juices along the way before he starts plunging his tongue in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying not to make too loud sounds.

“That feel good?” he pulls away to ask, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he waits for your answer, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

“So good, daddy. Let me cum, please,” you whimper and he smirks.

“You’re lucky we’re in my office right now, otherwise I’d take my sweet time to take this sweet pussy apart,” to emphasize it, he thrusts his thumb into you and pinches your sensitive clit between two fingers, another moan escaping your lips. “I wouldn’t let you cum until you were crying and screaming out apologies.”

He slides his thumb back down to your clit, quickly circling it as he dives into you again, massaging your walls with the soft muscle until the knot in your belly starts tightening and you bite on the cushion to prevent yourself from screaming as the dam finally breaks and you’re cumming, Andy drinking up everything your pussy has to offer and he needs to force himself to pull away, your taste almost too addictive.

Before you know it, the sound of his belt clanking reaches your ears and a moment later, you feel his hand on your hip while the other gets a hold of his cock, positioning the tip at your entrance before pushing himself slowly into your heat. He groans while you mewl, filling you to the hilt and giving you some time to adjust to his size.

He starts with slow thrusts once he feels you constrict around him and the hand that isn’t bruising your hip grips the knot that holds your wrists together, giving himself leverage when he begins to quicken his pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So tight.”

And he feels amazing, too, his cock reaching all the right places, the familiar tingling reappearing again as your thighs start to quiver. He leans over you, his chest to your back as his hand on your hip slides down and starts rubbing your clit.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” his warm breath hits the shell of your ear. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing around me. God.”

“Please, daddy.” You mewl and he growls at your innocent voice, picking up his pace even more so, his thrusts becoming harder and your tied hands grasp his wrist. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.” He nips at your ear and with a few more thrusts, you’re cumming again, not able to hold in the moans anymore. He rides you through it, chasing his own orgasm and when you feel his hot cum filling you up, he stills, his breath brushing your cheek as he pants.

Once he comes down from his high, he kisses your jaw and stands up, pulling himself from your heat and you hiss at the feeling. He puts his cock into his boxers and zips his pants before he unties your hands, revealing the light red marks on your wrists. You stretch your hands a little before you bring them under yourself to lift yourself up, your skirt falling back down around your thighs and covering your now-glistening intimate parts.

Turning around, you stay kneeling on the couch, looking up at Andy with those big eyes that make him weak in the knees. The corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of your fucked out state, your hair is messy, there are imprints from the cushion on the cheek you were lying on, and the wet trails from your tears are almost dried.

He leans down and kisses you slowly and deeply as his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. Jesus, he doesn’t know how you do it but his dick is already twitching in his pants so he breaks the kiss because otherwise, he’d have to fuck you again. He pulls you up on your feet and bends down to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before his hands fall to your hips. You smile and adjust the strap.

“So, when will I see you in the new number?” he smirks.

“Well, I didn’t even get to pick any,” you reply with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “And I have Mrs. Harper next and I wouldn’t dare to use my phone during her class since her punishments are actual punishments.”

“Are you saying my punishments are ineffective?” he feigns shock.

“I’m just saying if you fucked every student for using their phone, they’d be doing it on purpose, professor.”

He laughs and pulls you closer. “That would be exhausting. But those kinds of punishments are reserved for my favorite student only.” 

“Should I be worried? You seemed pretty delighted with Amelia.” you joke, but half of you is a bit insecure because Amelia is a pretty girl with glowing skin and a brain big enough to impress him. And like the amazing person Andy is, he sees right through you and gives you an adoring smile before his lips touch your forehead, your eyes fluttering close. 

“You are my favorite student. Nobody else,” he assures you once he pulls away. 

Your smile widens and your belly twists at his sappiness, but you wrinkle your nose when you suddenly become aware of the slickness between your legs.

“I need my panties back.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

“I’m gonna keep them.” Your jaw drops. You have two more classes today, you can’t go that long with Andy’s cum leaking out of you! “Oh, you thought your punishment was over? I want you to come over to my place right after school. And don’t even think about going home to change.” His stern voice is back and he takes your chin between his fingers.

“I hope you finished your paper. We have a long weekend in front of us.”

the end.

a/n2: thank you for reading!!!!!❤️❤️my other works can be find under #writer luci !☺️

[blu-joons]

When He Stops You From Overthinking ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

The first glimpse Jin had of your leg bouncing up and down beside him instantly made him realise exactly what was going on, reaching out to take your hand.

“Stop worrying,” he whispered across to you, smiling softly. “There’s no point stressing yourself even more about being here.”

You sighed gently, glancing at the hold he had of your hands. “Hospitals always scare me; I can’t help but just think the worst whenever I come to one.”

“It’s just routine,” he reminded you, placing his other arm around your shoulders, “there’s nothing for you to stress yourself over right now.”

“There feels like there is a lot for me to worry about.”

His head shook, “I know that you always fear the worst, but I promise nothing bad is going to happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” You continued to challenge, much to Jin’s annoyance. “What if they find something that I didn’t know about?”

His hand squeezed yours once again, “I’m sure because I don’t worry, it’s a routine for a reason Y/N, I know your stressed, but just stay calm.”

“You really do make it sound so easy,” you sighed, “I wish I could be more like you.”

“You’re perfect as you are.”

Yoongi:

The sound of your laptop being shut snapped you out of your daydream, as you looked up, you were surprised to see Yoongi stood in front of your desk.

“I bet you didn’t even hear me come in,” he joked, walking around your desk. “How long have you been staring into the distance.”

Your shoulders shrugged back at him, “truthfully, I have no idea. I was just trying to think how to compose this email, and then I just got lost in my train of thought.”

“It must be important,” Yoongi stated, knowing that you only ever froze over your worries. “Overthinking what you’ll write only makes things worse.”

“But it’s too my bosses, it needs to be faultless.”

He took a seat beside you, “why don’t you open it up then and we’ll have a look at it together?”

“Would you really not mind?” You questioned, hating to be a burden on him. “Because I’ve been avoiding doing it for three hours.”

His head nodded, opening your laptop back up. “Have you really been only thinking about this email for the past three hours Y/N?”

“I just wanted it to be perfect,” you frowned, “I don’t want to make a mistake.”

“I won’t let you make one.”

Hoseok:

The moment he noticed your eyes staring out of the window, Hobi knew something was wrong. Without saying a word, he walked over and wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss just underneath your ear. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth wasting your time over.”

You glanced back at him, smiling softly as you met his eyes. “It’s no big deal, it’s nothing anyway, you’re right, it’s not worth my time.”

“A problem shared is a problem halved?” He offered, but your head shook back at him. “Is it really something you can deal with alone.”

“Yes…I think, to be honest, I don’t really know about it.”

His hand led you to the sofa, “sit, take a breath, and why don’t you tell me all about it, Y/N.”

“There’s no need,” you tried to argue, but yet again, Hoseok refused to listen. “I’m being serious, this talk is just a waste of time instead.”

His head shook, “if this is causing to behave so distant from me, then it must be something. Are you afraid of telling me what it is?”

“No,” you sighed, “I’m just afraid that you’ll think it’s something stupid to fret over.”

“Nothing is too stupid, I promise.”

Namjoon:

As his question fell on deaf ears, Namjoon knew you were paying attention to something that quite clearly wasn’t him nor his question.

“Earth to Y/N,” he laughed, waving his hand over your face. “Is talking about my day at the studio that boring for you?”

Your head shook, blinking yourself back into the room. “Sorry, I was listening…sort of. I’ve just had a bit of a long day myself, that’s all.”

“I can tell,” he teased, pulling you into his side. “Why don’t we talk about your day first and see if we can stop you overthinking things.”

“No, we were talking about your day. I promise, I’ll listen.”

He sighed loudly, “I don’t mind. I want to talk about you anyway, it must be something important.”

“I just had a bit of a falling out with the new girl,” you frowned, “and now I don’t know how I’ll ever manage to say sorry to her.”

His head rested against yours, “if you were in the wrong, then you just have to be the bigger person and say sorry, and not be bitter.”

“I wish it was as easy as that,” you laughed, “but I was definitely in the right.”

“Then you have no reason to be sorry.”

Jimin:

As soon as you opened the door, you saw Jimin’s wide eyes staring back at you, letting go of a huge sigh of relief as soon as he saw you before him.

“I’ve been knocking for ages,” he frowned, pushing you inside of the house, “I thought that something bad had happened.”

Your head shook, looking down at your phone, noticing several missed calls from Jimin. “How long have you been trying to get in contact with me?”

“About an hour,” he sighed, trying to recompose himself. “Do you have any idea how much of a fright you gave me? It was scary.”

“I didn’t even hear my phone go off, but it’s not on silent.”

His head shook, “you must have been thinking pretty hard about something in that case.”

“Not that I remember,” you mused, wracking your brain to try and remember what was on your mind. “I don’t understand, I’m sorry.”

His hand reached out to take a hold of yours, “I’m just relieved alright, you and your thoughts might just be the death of me one day.”

“I really didn’t mean to worry you,” you frowned, smiling back at him.

“I told you, it’s alright.”

Taehyung:

A pair of cold hands covered over your eyes, instantly distracting your mind from whatever was on your mind as you felt the hands that held onto you.

“And now your mind is filled with thoughts of me,” Taehyung chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Your head shook as he let go, glancing up at him. “My mind was actually filled with the thoughts of where my phone was so I could ring the police and get this strange man off me.”

“I’ll take it,” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you, “as long as it stopped you thinking about whatever it is that’s on your mind for a moment.”

“I guess your plan worked in that case, it’s stopped me thinking.”

He nodded proudly, “do you want to tell me what it was that was on your mind?”

“It’s stupid,” you assured him, trying to brush it aside, “I’d rather just think about something else for now and not worry about it anymore.”

His head nodded once again, choosing not to push you into anything. “If there’s one person who can make you not worry anymore, it’s me.”

“Which is why your arrival was so perfectly timed,” you complimented, “you’re a good distraction.”

“I’m the best distraction.”

Jungkook:

As he crept into the bedroom, he noticed you sat at your desk, peering over your shoulder to see your notebook open with plenty of doodles on the pages.

“What’s on your mind?” He suddenly asked, causing you to jump. “You only draw when you need a distraction.”

You smiled across at him, closing up your book. “It sounds stupid, but I’ve been trying to sort out my party, and I don’t want to upset anyone by not inviting them.”

“And I’m guessing the notebook came out to try and start a list,” he laughed, smirking at how well he knew you. “Did it work?”

“The pages are pretty empty, so I’d say it didn’t.”

He snatched the book from you, “why don’t we come up with something, as a team Y/N.”

“But what if someone is upset because we miss them?” You fretted, “can’t we just invite every single person that we know? That’ll be easier.”

His lips pressed to the side of your head, “with my fans, we’ll have millions at that party. And I really don’t think that will be practical for us both.”

“Maybe I do need to right a list,” you huffed, “however much I don’t want to.”

“Don’t worry about upsetting anyone.”

---

Masterlist

[tinyboxxtink]

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 1?*

So this is interesting:

So "Not My Yacht" was my very first fic. Like, I'm talking VERY VERY first.

So when I started asking around about ideas for a new series, a few of my lovelies went through my one shots and this story and "Doodling" got some good votes.

So, I decided to include the one shot and just added to it for a POTENTIAL new series. We'll see how this chapter goes over.

Also I'll be including Rita Calhoun in this for the FIRST time ever, so I may need assistance from @storiesofsvu to get her voice right. I did my best here. I'll be honest I've never really watched her, just that one where that guy blackmailed her or something.

Also Also, if it wasn't obvious enough this is obviously the beginning of the SVU episode "Her Negations".

I don't want to give anything away because I haven't even really thought that far, but I'm 95% sure this is going to turn in a William Lewis situation fic. So...pretty dark. I'm just warning you NOW.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

And yes, the results are in. There is a part 2!

You breathed in the salty air of the sea of the sunny South Hampton shore; It was a beautiful day for a yacht party.

You walked along the pier as you got closer to your boss’s boat: The Crime Wave. Her husband’s idea of a funny name she claimed as she had invited people from the office to this soiree. You were lucky to even get an invite, just being the assistant to the owner of the law firm. “Who else is going to help me dodge boring conversations with men who just wanted a "free ride” on the bosses boat?“ She had teased you; or at least you hoped she was kidding.

You really wanted to just relax and mingle among the elite lawyers of NYC, seeing as you wanted to be one of them someday.

You saw your boss, Rita Calhoun waving you down as you reached the dock space.

"Ah! There you are, for a minute I thought I’d have to mix my own drinks!” She laughed with a wink. You laugh nervously, unable to discern if she was kidding.

“Calm down sweetie, I’m a big girl. Besides, I like to make them myself, strong,” she laughed again, patting your shoulder. Crap had your face looked that panicked? Keep it cool!

“Go ahead, enjoy yourself. I’ll be here, making sure none of those damn punks tries to sneak on here for free booze,” she scoffed, nodding to a group of highly dressed teens playing chicken on the shoreline.

You nodded with a half laugh, stepping onto the yacht. It was a decent size, a second level deck and a very spacious main level. Not a lot of people had arrived yet, so you decided to pick a spot on the yachts back bench area before all the seating was taken. You began removing your over clothes revealing your swimming wear when you hear Rita greet someone else.

“Ah, Barba. You know we have flare guns on board,”

You turn to see the ADA of New York, Rafael Barba. He’s dressed in a windbreaker and what could be either a dark red or salmon polo. You realize Mrs. Calhoun is referring to the almost neon yellow color of the windbreaker, and you can’t help but giggle. It must have been way too loud because they both turn to you which caused you to immediately shut up and go back to undressing and laying out your towel, but ever so slightly still honed in on the conversation.

“You can never be too careful Rita, who knows how many enemies I’ve made in this town; someone might throw me over,” he smirked.

“And anyone here could make it look like a very convincing accident….even my aspiring protege over there,” Rita nods over to you, knowing full well what you were doing.

Barba turned and looked at you, your body frozen in mid towel thrust. You didn’t know whether to throw it over yourself or just run off the boat right there.

“I know it’s an awful jacket dear, you don’t have to keep staring at him.” She called over to you. God why did she have to be so….her.

“Jesus Rita give the girl a break, or did you invite her just to torture her on unbillable hours?” Barba scoffed with a half smile, walking over to you.

“Is it really worth the minimum wage to put up with her?” He asked.

“Mmm…it’s more for the experience, honestly.” You replied surprisingly smoothly.

“Oh….well I mean I could give you the experience without–” He started but was interrupted by your boss’s loud exclaiming.

“Yeah I’ll BET you’d give her experience Barba! Stop hitting on my intern and mingle with the adults.”

If you could dig a hole straight through the boat into the ocean you would do it right then and there.

“…..Without THAT.” He rolled his eyes, lightly flipping her the bird behind his back. You see her respond with a laugh then turns her attention back to the guests boarding.

“She’s probably been drinking since she got on the boat, yeah?” He asked you.

“I…I don’t know I just got here….” You managed to squeak out as your towel strayed from your hands. Barba grabbed it and helped you reposition it on the bench.

“Kinda windy for a yacht party, but Rita will take any chance to celebrate anything remotely resembling a boost to her ego. Am I right?” He chuckled, before sitting down on your towel.

“Just to keep it from blowing away, do you mind?” He asked, gesturing for you to join him. You nodded a boisterous “NO”, plopping next to him on the bench.

“I’m Rafael Barba,” he extended his hand to you, which you took and shook gently, praying to God he didn’t notice you were literally shaking. You had probably had the biggest crush on him since you started working with Mrs. Calhoun, he was constantly in her office challenging her with warrants and favors.

“Oh yeah I know,” you blurted out, mentally facepalming immediately.

“I see….” He raised an eyebrow. “And you are….?”

You were about to answer when his phone went off. He answered it putting one finger up and mouthing the words “one second.”

“Barba. Yeah….what? Seriously, Olivia? On a Sunday?!” He groaned into his phone with an exaggerated eye roll. He raised his hand and ran it over his face begrudgingly as he talked.

“Yeah….alright, fine. Yeah I’ll be there, give me an hour. I’m in the Hamptons. Because it’s my day off, Liv! Do you think I lock myself in my office over the weekends like a vampire in a coffin? Yeah…I’m sorry, I just…” He glanced at you.

“I was enjoying my Sunday.” He gave you a small sad smile.

“Yeah. Ok. See you soon.” He hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go back to the city. Don’t let Rita push you around too much, okay?” He chuckled, rubbing the top of your head like a puppy. You felt your face scrunch up in annoyance, seriously? He thought of you as a kid?!

He obviously noticed, and quickly held out his hand again very sternly.

“Sorry, future counselor.” He said in an overly serious tone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Again. Like an idiot.

Relieved he had fixed his faux paux, he gave you one last beautiful Barba grin as he jogged over to Rita and told her something before nodding to you once again, then walked off the boat and disappearing down the pier.

Your boss sauntered over to you, a shit eating grin across her face.

“Well Cinderella, you sure kept that cool.” She gestured for your phone beside you.

“Be sure to tell him your name this time,” she winked, handing it back to you. You glanced down at it as she walked away; she had added a number to your contacts.

“BHole Barba.” You laughed out loud. Nice. Maybe she wasn’t such a horrible boss after all….

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

By Monday you still hadn’t had the balls to text Rafael Barba. You had just stared at the number in your phone, imagining all the possibilities contacting him would lead to. You may have gotten so far as planning your summer wedding in the Hamptons, but nobody needed to know that.

But you had chickened out and left it alone, and now you were sitting at your desk typing up a memo for Rita when you saw him come waltzing through the door.

“Ah, Cinderella!” He smiled at you.

“Hey…” Your mind went blank, you couldn’t think of words. Wait, had he already given you a nickname?

“Cinderella?” You blinked in confusion.

“Well I never caught your name-- But I guess I shouldn’t even push it, you’ve clearly moved on and I must seem like a creep,” His train of thought proceeded out loud as he realized you hadn’t taken his number and here he was still flirting with you. Rita had given it to you, he had seen her type it in your phone. Obviously you weren’t interested, why was he pushing this?

“What? NO!” You said a little louder than you intended, actually a lot louder than you intended. You slapped your hand over your mouth after your little outburst, but to you relief he was still smiling.

“Oh? Well I suppose that’s good…” He was obviously fishing for your excuse as to why you had waited until he popped back in your face to talk to him.

“No, I um--” You racked your brain for an excuse that wasn’t “I was busy planning our lives together”.

“I….couldn’t think of something interesting to say,” You finally admitted with a pitiful sigh. You were not a good liar, and under pressure, forget about it.

Again, he still smiled-- but this time he laughed along with it.

“I mean, ‘Hello’ is always an option,” He chuckled. “Or...your name?”

“Oh!” Idiot. You hadn’t even given him your name, how was he supposed to fall madly in love with you without a name?

“Y/N,” You stuck your hand out awkwardly, Was this a ‘shake hands’ moment? Hadn’t you already met before? You stared at your hand as you moved it slightly back and forth, arguing with yourself whether or not this was necessary. Luckily, Rafael settled the argument by taking your hand and shaking it firmly.

His hands were so soft, his long fingers enveloped yours in them. You lost yourself in the moment, and before you knew it he was making an uncomfortable cough, snapping you back to reality. You dropped his hand and snapped yours back into your body like a zip cord, your face in a horrified stare.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, that was so weird. I’m weird. I’m--”

“Well I don’t know what you were so worried about Cinderella, you’re clearly a chatterbox,” He gave you a tongued smile, referring to the word vomit you just couldn’t help spill all over him.

“Oh yeah, I’m a total word machine,” You laughed nervously. A word machine? What the fuck was that?

“...Word machine. Right,” He nodded in amusement. “Well word machine, would you mind shooting some words to my phone, or do you just enjoy this face to face thing?”

“With that face? Definitely the latter. But you can have my number anyway,” You typed a quick message and sent it to his number. Damn that was smooth! How did you do that?

Rafael made an impressed face with your line, but when he opened his phone his brows furrowed.

“Hit?” He gave you a curious look as he read the text out loud.

“Fuck it was supposed to be ‘hi’-- stupid autocorrect,” You muttered angrily. Yeah, that was more like you.

“Oh yes, the dreaded autocorrect,” He nodded while saving your number. “Turning fucks into ducks since 2011,”

“Oh I didn’t have a phone in 7th grade but I’ll take your word for it,” You laughed, but stopped when his face twisted into a mix of horror and discomfort when he realized how young you actually were.

Dammit. Why...why would you do this?

“....Right, is Rita in?” He quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed into Rita’s office before you could answer.

“...Idiot!” You yelled at yourself as your hands went over your face and your face planted into your desk.

Well, that was nice while it lasted. All 2.5 seconds of it.

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

“Well Barba, about time,” Rita smirked as Rafael abruptly burst into her office trying to get away from you. “Done flirting with the intern are we?”

“Shut up,” He rolled his eyes, though his face was a deep shade of red.

“Oh no, what happened? Did your dentures fall out in front of her?” She smirked.

“I’m younger than you!!” He scoffed.

“Yeah but I’m not the one trying to boff a 25 year old,” She smirked harder, making Rafael angrier.

“Can I just get the warrant I came here for, Rita?” He huffed.

“Oooh, struck a nerve there, did I?” Rita chuckled as she grabbed some papers from her desk and started to hand them to him. “Barba, for the record I’m really not judging you. If I were 20 years younger, I’d hit it too,”

“Excuse me?”

“I had a lot of ‘cats’ in college,” She winked.

“Wow,” Rafael held up his hands. “Rita, we really don’t need to be that personal.”

“Fine, but all I’m saying is if you like the girl, don’t let a stupid thing like age deter you. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s actually very competent and organized. I would almost prefer her not to graduate, unless she'd come work for me. She’s going to be a hell of a lawyer,” She gestured outside to your desk.

Rafael looked at the ground as he mulled over what she was saying, a small smile crawled across his lips as she complimented your potential.

“I’ll take that under advisement, Mrs. Calhoun,” He nodded as he walked towards the door with the papers in his hand, a huge smile across his face now.

He walked out to find you cursing at yourself and whimpering in embarrassment at your desk. When you heard the door shut you snapped to attention and stared at him, shocked he hadn't sprinted out of the office like Usain Bolt. Even more shocking was that Cheshire cat grin now upon his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I totally meant I was--” You tried doing math trying to make yourself reasonably older.

“It’s fine,” He chuckled as he put a hand over your counting fingers. You blushed at the touch of his skin on yours again, but quickly shoved your hands under the desk nervously as you tried not to look him square in the eye. His eyes were so gorgeous you were positive staring straight into them would actually get you pregnant.

“So does Rita ever unchain you from this desk?” He smirked as he was now very aware and very amused at how nervous he made you. He may be old, but clearly he’s still got it.

“Oh yeah, if I ask very nicely she let’s me--” You tried to think of something witty, but it wasn’t coming with him staring at you with those eyes. “....Yes,” You wanted to put your hands over your face but you didn’t want it to be a ‘thing’.

“Well, maybe if you’re an extra good girl she’ll let you off your leash early tonight,” He winked.

“....Am I a dog or a toddler in that situation?” You were genuinely asking, but Rafael clearly realized how insulting that must have seemed.

“Oh no no no, I just, shit,” He tried to backtrack but if he was being totally honest, you made him nervous. Maybe he didn’t have ‘it’ as much as he thought.

You noticed he was the one blushing now, oh my god were you making him nervous? QUICK, BE SMOOTH. BE SMOOTHER THAN YOU’VE EVER BEEN IN YOUR LIFE.

“Are you asking me out, counselor?” You did your best “sultry “voice with a bat of your eyes. Were you batting them too much? What was too much? Oh god you’ve done it for too long now. STOP BATTING.

“...I don’t know, guess you’ll have to wait for me to text you, future counselor,” He was impressed by the line, and decided to bow out before either of you made idiots of yourselves again. He gave you a wink and sauntered out of the office.

Great. Now he’ll probably make you wait two days for a--

*BEEP*

Your phone went off in your desk. You pulled it out to see a text message:

BHOLE BARBA: Dinner? Tonight?

You really needed to change his contact name. But that wasn’t the point right now. He just asked you out. Rafael Barba just asked you out. You stared at in your hands, unsure of what to do. Then you realized you couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t just sit there and imagine things, this required an immediate response.

You nervously typed a reply and hit SEND:

Sire ;)

“DAMMIT!!!” You cursed your autocorrect. You instantly sent another text.

Sure***

Before you could lecture yourself again, your phone beeped again:

BHOLE BARBA: Play

Play? What did that--

BHOLE: Okay** ;)

You typed the word ‘okay’ into your text reply bubble, ‘play’ came up in the autocorrect word list.

He was joking with you. He was flirting with you. RAFAEL BARBA WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU.

This work day could not end fast enough.

[loki--fics]

Stardust - Part 7

Loki x Reader

content warnings: cancer / illness mentions

author's note: i'm sorry about the hiatus! here's the update you've been waiting for, i hope you like it! ♡

"Don't worry," The agent said, a malicious smile on his face. His eyes were cold, boring into yours with an intensity that shook you to your core. "This will only hurt a bit."

He lied. The serum he injected you with felt like hot lava pouring through your veins, and you pulled hard against your restraints as you screamed. "Stop!" You wailed, tears flowing down your cheeks. "Please, make it stop.."

"We need to understand how you got your powers, don't you see?" He asked. "You're going to be a part of the next great step in mankind's evolution."

You sobbed. "I was born with them, I've always had them please, I'll do anything, just stop torturing me."

He grinned, his cruel features contorting in satisfaction as he spoke. "Anything, you say?"

"Yes, I'll do anything. Whatever you want, just please, I can't take it anymore!" You shouted.

Grabbing your chin, the agent forced you to look into his cold, calculating eyes. "What I want is to continue to search for the source of your power."

He picked up another needle, shoving it into the IV drip and emptying it while you screamed.

"Y/N! Wake up!"

Flailing, you felt someone grab your forearms and you yelped, shying away. "Please, no more," You begged.

"Look at me," The voice said, and you opened your eyes, seeing Loki staring at you in concern. "What happened?"

You took a shuddering breath as you tried to calm down, feeling the wetness of tears on your cheeks. "It was just a bad dream," You mumbled.

Loki eyed you, understanding and sorrow evident on his face. "It wasn't just a dream, was it? It was a memory." As you nodded, Loki released your arms. "Do you wish to talk about it? You have no obligation to-"

"I was taken by HYDRA, upon the discovery of my... Well, supernatural abilities," You said, interrupting him. "I've had them for as long as I can remember, I was born with them."

He realised that, in all the time he's known you, he had yet to ask what your abilities were. "What are they?"

You sighed. "I have a connection to the elements. I don't control them, but they come to me when I summon them, as long as I don't try to abuse them."

"Can you show me?" Loki asked, curiosity piqued.

You blushed, but nodded, holding out your hand. "Air, please come to me." You watched Loki's eyes grow wide as a soft breeze surrounded the two of you, brushing against your skin and lifting your hair in a mini-whirlwind. A ball of air swirled in your palm as Loki stared.

"Fire, please come to me," You continued, and suddenly the air around you was filled with the rich, woody scent of a roaring fire, and your skin grew warm. Fire replaced air in your palm.

"Water, please come to me." The warmth was replaced by a coolness, and the smell shifted to a clean, salty scent, water washing over the fire in your palm. Loki could only stare, eyes wide as the sensations washed over him.

You watched him subtly as you continued. "Earth, please come to me." A rock formed in your palm, and the air was filled with the smell of freshly cut grass and wheat, the feeling of a soft meadow beneath you.

"Last, but certainly not least, spirit. Please come to me."

Feeling his own chest leap, Loki gasped. The ball in your palm turned a shimmering shade of lavender, and it was as though the two of you were surrounded by the elements.

"Incredible," Loki murmured softly. With a flick of your wrist, a breath of warm air caressed his cheek.

"I know what you're doing," You said softly. "Thank you."

Loki nodded. While he wanted to hear your story, he was aware that you should share that when you were of good mind to do so, not when the memories had been so freshly pushed to the forefront of your mind where you believed them to be real again. "You're welcome."

"Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Spirit, thank you. You may depart," You said softly. As the elements departed, you both felt the loss, like saying goodbye to a friend.

"But more than that, Loki, I really wanted to thank you for being my friend these last few weeks," You continued.

With a start, Loki's eyes snapped to yours. "What did you just say?" He asked. Surely he had misheard-

"Thank you for being my friend," You repeated.

"I am your friend?" He asked.

You chuckled. "Of course you are. Am I yours?"

"You are my only," He replied softly, and your heart broke for him. "Without ill intention or ulterior motive."

"Well, I know things were a bit shaky at the start, but I've felt more like myself around you than I have since I was diagnosed. Considering what's going on with my brain, it's-"

"Your brain?" Loki interrupted. "What do you mean?"

You mentally curse yourself. How could you have been so foolish? "You cannot say a word to anyone, especially not Tony. Promise me, please."

Loki had never made a promise in his life. But for you, he found himself doing so. "I promise I will say nothing."

Sighing, you told Loki the truth. "I have a new tumour, on my brain. My cancer spread."

Even though he did not wholly understand your cancer, he did understand that this was serious. "Why have you not told anyone?" He asked.

"Because then I won't get even a moment's peace," You said. "The team is going to be up my arse day and night."

"I can see how that would be frustrating," Loki teased, and you suddenly remembered how they had been doing the same to him. "Is there nothing that can be done?"

"No," You replied. "Like the tumours on my lungs, it's inoperable. They're hopeful that treatment will help."

Loki's chest felt tight. He didn't like this, he was getting too close. How could he have let this happen? He was a God, he would live for centuries after you passed, even if you weren't ill and besides that, you were kind, gentle, and pure. Too good for the likes of him.

Without a word, Loki got up and left. You watched his back as he walked away, wondering if you had said or done something to upset him. The couch was cold without him, and you wished you had thought before you spoke. What a stupid slip up! You scolded yourself. Why did you have to say that? Now he's upset.

With a sigh, you gathered your blankets and walked to your room, not wanting to deal with anyone right now. You sincerely hoped that Loki would keep his promise, the mere thought of Tony finding out causing anxiety to fill your chest. He won't find out, he can't, You thought.

Pacing his room, Loki ran a frustrated hand through his hair. What were you thinking? He asked himself. Letting the girl close, you should know better than that! You are not Thor, you do not consort with mortals! You know that it only brings pain when they inevitably die.

He couldn't help the way his chest tightened knowing that your cancer had spread, it meant you were dying more quickly. Especially to your brain, Loki knew that you didn't stand a chance. How much longer did you have? Months? Maybe a couple of years?

You knew this, He thought. Mortals are fragile, weak creatures. They grow old, they get sick, they die. He made up his mind to stay away from you, but it was much easier said than done. You had called him your friend, without malicious intent, something he had not heard in quite some time. You had thanked him for it, something he had not even realised he'd done. How could he ignore you now?

As you sat in your room, doodling in your notebook, all you could think about was Loki. It was wrong of you to burden him, You thought. You should have lied. You thought back to that first day you had seen him in the library.

"Did you truly believe you could lie to me, the God of Mischief?" He'd asked. "I basically invented lying."

You smiled at the memory. No, you couldn't have lied to him, nor did you want to. You had always been open with Loki, more so than anyone else at the tower, even Thor. He had been your best friend, yes, but you felt a kind of soul connection with his brother. While you cared for him, you realised that Loki truly understood you in ways that Thor could not begin to.

Not wanting to lose that, you scribbled a note on a spare sheet of paper, folding it and taking it to Loki's bedroom, sliding it under the door.

Loki watched the paper glide across the floor, picking it up with his long, slender fingers.

~ Loki,

I'm sorry if I've upset you in any way. Please, let me know if there is anything I can do to make it up to you.

Yours, Y/N ~

"I truly am an asshole," He muttered.

[aellynera]

Beat the System (Poe Dameron x f!Reader; high school AU)

BEAT THE SYSTEM

My darling @autumnleaves1991-blog is doing a Writer Wednesday thing (click that link for details) and today’s challenge was:

...so I wrote this little thing. may or may not be based on things that might have somewhat happened during my years as a summer amusement park lackey.

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: You see a lot of people at your summer job, and you didn’t really want to see him or for him to see you, but that’s not how the system works.

Warnings: Female reader. High School AU. References to clowns. Complaining. Nothing else really, just a lot of fluff. As usual, mostly kind of proofread.

You kind of hated your summer job. 

It wasn’t so much that you hated having to get a job in the first place, after your parents insisted that’s what you’d need to do if you wanted your own car. And the job itself was actually pretty easy, at least in theory.

The ring toss stand at the local amusement park was your domain. Your days were spent surrounded by giant stuffed elephants and aliens and teddy bears, taking money, handing out rings, watching people throw them at bottles. Ninety-nine percent of the time this also meant watching them lose. The losses generally led to another futile round of buying and tossing. And, invariably, cussing; never mind that this was a family establishment and there was a five-year-old standing three feet away from the offender.

No, it was the job on repeat for eight hours a day, five days out of the week. It was seeing all your friends come by and have fun while you literally had to watch them (but hey, at least you got paid.) It was having to work every single weekend. And it was all the people. People you’d known your whole life, people who lived in neighboring towns, busses full of people from who knows where that flocked to this place every single year.

And it was just weird to think of this place as a destination. It was just the amusement park that was there all your life, that your parents went to when they were in high school, and maybe their parents did too. This place was freaking old. But why people felt the need to come by the busload from hours away--

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here.”

The voice broke through your ranting brain and you looked up to see a familiar face grinning back at you from the other side of the booth.

Poe Dameron was a senior. He was captain of both the football and the soccer team, treasurer of the student council, sang on the chorus, played bass in the jazz band, was in the drama club, and you were pretty sure there were at least a dozen other things he just did because he was good at everything. 

He was also ridiculously hot and the last person you wanted to see you in your ridiculous, brightly colored work uniform. He stood before you looking like he just crawled off the cover of a romance novel, all tan skin and dark curls and defined muscles, and there you were with a high ponytail and baggy shorts and a shirt that would put a clown to shame.

Honestly, all you needed were the giant floppy shoes.

He was also there with a group of his rowdy, juvenile football friends, which only promised to make this hell even more scorching. At least for now, they seemed to be occupied with ogling the girl who ran the tilt-a-whirl across the path and completely ignoring you.

You scrunched your face at him. “Poe, I’ve seen you here like twenty times this summer. You’ve even played this game before. You know I work here.”

“Okay, you got me,” his grin didn’t falter. You weren’t sure, but it might have even gotten a little bigger. He handed over ten dollars. “A bucket of rings, please.”

Great, he was going to hang around. You glanced at your watch, and it solemnly informed you that your break wasn’t for another hour and half. So you were stuck there. In a virtual clown suit. With the hot senior you might have had a little crush on.

Not like you ever doodled his initials in your notebooks or on scraps of paper when the crowds at the stand died down. You denied all knowledge of these supposed incidents.

You could act like a normal person in his presence.

You sighed and took the money from him, handing him a bucket full of red plastic rings in return. “You know this game is rigged, right? They all are.”

“So I’ve heard.” He picked up his first ring. “But I am determined to beat the system.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

Poe shot you a quick side-eye before turning his attention back to the sea of bottles in front of him. He tossed the first ring and it flipped end over end before bouncing off a bottle top with a spectacular ding! His brow furrowed as he reached for another ring.

“Apparently not,” he muttered. “But I’ll still beat it. You see, there’s this girl I want to impress, and…” He tossed the second ring and watched it ricochet off another bottle top.

“Of course there is,” you snorted. “There’s probably a whole horde of them.”

He chuckled. “Nope, just one.”

You waved your arm in a grand gesture toward the playing field. “Well then, have at it, Romeo. You know the rules. No leaning over the rail, and you have to land five rings to win. Let me know when you need another bucket.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he replied as he tossed yet another ring. You tried, you really really tried, to ignore the way the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated.

And so it went until the entire bucket full of rings littered the floor of the stall, with nary a single one landing on its intended target. You grabbed the sweeper and started pushing them back into the bins underneath the counter.

Poe growled in frustration. “Seriously?!” He waved another ten in your direction and you handed him another bucket, giggling as you made the exchange.

“I told you, it’s rigged. But…” you crooked a finger to motion him closer. And then tried to remember how breathing worked as he leaned in, now just inches from your face.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

The attempt to subtly clear your throat was only half successful.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this,” you pointed toward the bottles, “but the table is slightly higher on that side, and so is that one part in the middle. If you aim for those bottles, you can probably bounce the rings onto the lower ones.”

The grin he flashed almost blinded you. “Beat the system.”

“Beat the system,” you agreed.

You leaned back and watched. After the first six rings or so, Poe seemed to figure out which bottles to aim for and how to toss the ring (with a bit of spin, of course) and before you knew it, his fifth ring landed on the center bottle and he was shouting “yes!” with a little fist pump.

“I am impressed, Dameron,” you said, clapping. “I bet this girl will be too.”

“I hope so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Did he suddenly look kind of shy? No, that wasn’t Poe Dameron. He was the polar opposite of shy.

“Which one?” you asked, pointing to the prizes hanging above you.

“Which one would you pick? If you just beat the system and you were trying to impress someone?”

“Uhhh…” Why in the world was he asking you? It didn’t matter, this was his deal, you just worked there. And quite honestly, you probably wouldn’t pick any of these monstrosities. They were huge. And kind of weird looking. And neon colored.

After a few moments of confused contemplation, your eyes finally landed on a giant purple teddy bear, half hidden behind a chartreuse alien and an orange thing that was trying to impersonate an octopus. You pulled it down and handed it over.

“Here you go, the least weird thing you just spent twenty bucks on when you could have just gone to the mall and bought something more reasonable.”

“Nah, this is perfect,” Poe replied, grabbing the bear. It was nearly half as big as he was. You often wondered how anyone dragged them around the park for the rest of the day, much less managed to get them home. “Thanks for the advice.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that rose on your lips. “It was either that, or have to explain to my supervisor why you would have ended up hanging around until the park closed.”

He laughed loudly. “Rey would have understood. She’s cool like that.”

“Geez, you’re good at everything, do you know everyone in the entire galaxy too?”

Poe didn’t seem to hear you, though, as he looked over his shoulder and around the area, and you followed his gaze. His friends were nowhere to be seen and vaguely, you wondered when they’d wandered off and why they hadn’t very loudly announced it to him. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, I should go find the guys,” he said. “And let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied. All of the easy-going rapport from the past however long Poe had been there suddenly evaporated and every ounce of awkwardness you normally felt around him returned. “I’ll see you.”

You might have been looking anywhere but at him, but you didn’t miss the small wave he gave you as he walked away, and you definitely felt the heat that rose in your cheeks.

Poe was quickly forgotten as a swarm of ten-year-olds rushed the stand and the incessant clanging of misthrown rings once again took over all your waking moments. You didn’t think about him for the rest of your shift. All you could think about was how tired you were, how hot the day had been, how much you wanted to shower and sleep and pretend you didn’t have to do this again tomorrow and--

Your feet ground to halt in the employee parking lot and approached your beloved car, the entire reason you had this forsaken job in the first place. Your car, which, you would have serious questions had you not known exactly where the thing came from, had a giant purple teddy bear sitting on the hood.

As you got closer, you could see something sticking out from beneath the bow tied around its neck. It was a slip of paper, with a phone number scrawled on it. And a little “P.” with a heart.

What was even happening right now.

Before you knew it, your phone was out of your purse and you were calling his number. Sure, you might have had to dial it four times because your nervous fingers kept pressing the wrong digits, but who was counting? And never mind that it was almost midnight. It was summer, he’d still be awake, right? 

Finally you got it right, and the call picked up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you breathed.

“Hey,” you could picture the trademark Dameron grin behind it. And he sounded...relieved? “I’m really glad you called.”

“How did you get into the employee parking lot?”

“I didn’t. I asked Rey for a favor. I figured she might know which car was yours. Told you she’s cool like that.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess she really is.”

“So I do have a really important question for you. Well, two actually.”

“I’m listening,” you said. It was hard to hear anything over how hard your heart was thumping in your ears, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Question one. Can I take you out on a date?”

“Yeah,” you said again and closed your eyes, partly out of a need to center yourself and mostly out of sheer embarrassment. Maybe one day, you would remember how to speak to Poe Dameron in multiple word sentences, but right at this moment was not that time. Oh well.

“Awesome,” he breathed out. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Yes.” Thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your current lack of language skills.

Poe laughed warmly. “Now, second question. Did it work?”

This time you couldn’t even come up with a verbal response. You just erupted in a bout of giggles, Poe Dameron laughing along with you. And somehow, you got that ridiculous monstrosity of a teddy bear into your back seat.

The somehows kept coming. Somehow you remembered how to use words. Somehow it was well after midnight now without either of you giving it permission to get that late. Somehow your phone refused to end the call. Somehow the hours were slipping by until you had to be at the park for an early opening shift in the morning, and somehow you suddenly didn’t care at all about getting any sleep.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad, after all.

~end~

Taglist:  @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

Poe Dameron taglist:  @millllenniawrites @the-fifth-marauder-03

>>join the taglist here<<

[aetheternity]

Hard pass 2 (Levi x Reader)

I'm a little concerned about how little time I took on the ending for the last part so I'm gonna put a little more time into this one. Hope you guys enjoy. :)

Synopsis: Levi is forced out of his comfy dorm room and in a strange twist of events right into your arms at a college party.

Levi was transfixed to say the least. He'd spent the past hour that he'd been back in his dorm room staring into a freshly made cup of black tea. The small jingling of keys in the door shaking him from his daze.

"Hello, Hello Leviathan." Mike greeted, tossing his bag to the side haphazardly.

Any other time Levi would've rolled his eyes but he just let out an agitated huff.

"Uh oh.. I know that look." Mike announced plopping down onto his unmade bed. "Who's the lucky girl?" He asked his smirk bright.

Levi's hair whipped against his cheek as he turned to Mike. "What are you on about? Who told you?" Probably Hange. Damn four eyes could never keep her mouth shut.

"No one had to." Mike laughed "You've just told me basically everything I need to know. Your distracted gaze when I came in the room, having very little reaction to me calling you Leviathan, your tea cup is still full and my side of the room is still messy." He seemed a little too pleased about that last bit.

"I know you went out tonight." He continued

"And what about it?"

"Who is she?!" Mike stood coming closer to sit on the edge of Levi's desk.

Levi rolled his eyes setting his cup down.

"Come on, I'm curious about some mysterious girl that has Levi Ackerman wrapped around her finger."

"Just shut up already." Levi replied turning his gaze to the window with a small pout.

"Fine, fine I'll shut up." Mike stood heading back towards his side of the room. An idea suddenly popped into his mind and he turned on his heel. "But.. I think I'll give Hange a call. You know.. cause I haven't talked to her in a bit-"

"When did you become so annoying?" Levi grumbled

"You're more aggressive tonight I like it. Is it because of her?"

As much as Levi wanted to fight it, Mike was one of those people that always got information about literally anything if he genuinely wanted it. Even if he didn't find out from Hange or Levi he was definitely going to find out from even the weirdest sources.

"Hange's friend.. she's not ugly I guess.." Levi could feel his face growing warm and he pulled his feet up onto his desk chair to hide it.

Mike laughed obnoxiously, "It's like watching a little kid finding out what a crush is." He chuckled "Super cute. So when are you going to ask her out?"

"Never."

Mike crossed the room again, seating himself on his bed. "You can't be serious! This is the first time I've ever seen you interested in girls and you're just gonna let her get away?"

"Stay out of my business, Michelangelo."

Mike just huffed reaching into his pocket to pry his phone out of his pocket. The room quickly grew quiet as Levi turned to his laptop though he was quickly distracted again by Mike's little chuckles. He turned his head in Mike's direction quickly catching the other male's gaze.

"By the way, Hange agrees with me." He said pointing to his phone.

Levi groaned, tugging at his hair. "Eat shit."

~ ~ ~ ~

Levi stared down at his watch with a soft tch.

It was 4pm and Hange was late again. He turned to Erwin who's face was currently pressed into a book. Thumb sliding along the sentences as he read.

"Where the hell is she?" He grumbled, shaking his mouse back and forth as the screen began to dim.

"She said she had to do something after class so she'd be a little late." Erwin replied, without looking up from his book.

"That's her excuse every time." Levi replied with a roll of his eyes.

Erwin just shrugged. Hange was always late. Sometimes she just showed up 30 minutes late with no real explanation and sometimes she showed up an hour late saying she had, had something to do after class. But every time the three of them got together to study she was late.

"Yo! Levi!" Hange greeted as she walked into the library ignoring the chorus of shushing that followed her.

Levi's scowl deepened, "Were you stuck on the toilet waiting for someone to fuck off?" He asked

"I have a great surprise follow me." She clapped in delight.

Erwin looked to Levi and then in the direction Hange had left in. He slowly pushed his chair out looking at Levi's irritated scowl.

"Are you coming."

"Whatever it is, is definitely stupid knowing Hange." Levi retorted, packing his belongings up in an orderly fashion.

The two of them quickly left before Hange could come back to ruin the peace again. They pushed through the library doors and standing against the wall with a somewhat bashful expression was Y/N with Hange who smiled brightly as if she wasn't currently disturbing Levi's peace.

"Oh hello Y/N." Erwin greeted, he looked over at Levi before asking. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh well Hange invited-"

"Ah ha ha! Y/N has homework to do so I figured she could come study with us. Though today me and Erwin have a thing." She quickly grabbed Erwin's arm yanking him over to her.

"But I was-" Erwin tried but was instantly silenced by Hange's hand over his mouth.

"You and Levi can study. Levi's great with everything! Right Levi? Ok me and Erwin will go now, by you two!"

"Hange!" Levi tried, his face already flushed with heat over the whole situation. Hange was surprisingly fast though, managing to drag Erwin away so quick they were a couple of dots within seconds.

Levi and Y/N stood in silence for a couple seconds before Y/N let out a deep exhale. "I feel as though we've been set up." She says, toying with the zippers on her back.

Levi can only manage a grunt in reply. Not daring to look into her eyes. "Well I mean.." she starts turning to Levi. "I actually do.. have to study so.. I wouldn't mind if you don't." She shrugged

"Mm.." Levi pulled open the library door for Y/N and lead her over the seats that him and Erwin had been sitting in only moments before.

He made a mental note as he opened his laptop again to keep the door locked next time Hange said she was coming over. Around 10 minutes went by of complete silence and Levi was incredibly happy for it.

Not because he was focusing, no his attention had been completely taken away from any possible work he could've gotten done here. There was no way he was actually going to be able to do anything when your scent was trapped in his nose and his eyes kept staring over his screen at your fingers.

Knuckles that Levi honestly wanted to kiss and fingernails completely devoid of dirt which Levi was instantly captivated by.

"Hey-"

He sat up straight, his own hands slightly curling around the aged wood of the table. Your book came sliding toward him and he looked down at it before looking back at you.

"I don't really get this? Could you help me a bit?"

Levi nodded before his brain could properly process what you'd asked. He almost thought he imagined the way your lip tucked itself under your teeth. And he felt dazed as your scent washed over him all at once as you slid into the seat next to him.

You pointed to your book and Levi tried to pay attention to your question but your notes threw him a bit. All the words were written in different colors and there were squiggly lines around definitions and texts. Small doodles between paragraphs as a way to properly space them and stars next to the most important words.

You scratched at your scalp and he took notice. "I paid attention when my professor was going over this I swear. But I don't really get it?? It can't be as difficult as I'm making it in my head." Your giggle of nervousness took Levi back a little.

The warm pit in his chest deepened and he sighed, trying to accurately assess the situation.

"Y-you made a small.. mathematical error." He explained, his fingers pointed to the equation as he tried to push away the ball in his throat. "You don't need these numbers."

Her smile hit Levi like a truck as it was instantly directed towards him. "Ah, you're so smart." Y/N said "What about this? I checked with the calculator but my answer was way off."

It was hard for Levi to ignore the way your shoulder rubbed up against his sending sparks all through his body like a tidal wave. It was honestly a little overwhelming.

"Oh sorry, am I too close?" You moved away and Levi gulped. He stared at your fingers, he didn't want you to move away.

He was surprised when he looked up and instantly made eye contact with you. "Stay." It probably didn't come out the way he'd wanted but he'd managed it and on some level he was proud of himself.

You smiled, "Sure."

After a while Levi felt himself loosen up a bit but the knot in his stomach was still very much there and alive. He found himself chuckling at your little jokes and he was mostly able to look you in the eyes. (As long as you didn't smile directly at him).

The first hour had been studying with small quips from your end that Levi found he enjoyed. Though around the third hour it turned into horror stories about present and past roommates.

Your laugh was so bright as you tapped your pen cap against the table. "And then Sasha just cracks the window open though it's definitely too late cause Connie had already created a war zone in our room." You were shaking so much from laughter that Levi was honestly a little worried you'd fall out of your chair.

He shook his head where he was resting it in his palm. "I still think Mike forgetting the do not disturb sign was worse." He shrugged

"Mm well maybe someday I'll have a story that bad. Considering Connie and Sasha have been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse for two years now."

Levi shook his head. "You don't want to walk in on your roommate having sex. No one does.."

He felt his cheeks flush over again. Whether it was from the story or the way you'd playfully pushed his shoulder though he couldn't tell. He watched as you positioned yourself back in the seat next to him.

"Ok, ok. You told me about your roommates relationships. Now tell me about yours."

"What?"

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "You know the in and out of Levi. I'm curious."

Levi's gaze fell to the table. "There's nothing to tell."

Y/N's voice immediately softened. "Sorry, didn't mean to try and pull it out of you."

Levi picked up his head closing his laptop. "I-I just.. never felt that way.." he tried

"Not everyone goes to college and high school and stuff for the parties, drugs and sex." You said, laying your elbows against the desk. "I commend you for having a goal and sticking with it."

Levi's heart stuttered at your words. "Did you come.. or well.. umm? What did you-"

He was interrupted by your hand on his shoulder again. "To answer your question." You leaned in closer your breath tickling Levi's earlobe. "Yes I did come specifically for the drugs."

Levi's eyes practically bulged out of his head. This time when you laughed you were met with shushing and stares. "Sorry." You whispered, popping a hand over your mouth. "I'm completely joking." You then said to Levi who's shoulders relaxed with the information.

Levi's signature deadpanned expression was starting to make an appearance now. "That's not funny."

"Hmm.. well I'm laughing so." Y/N laid her head on the table.

"Your humor is shit." He said

"Funny you say that." She laughed back a smirk was playing at Levi's lips. "Hey." Y/N broke the lingering silence.

"What?"

"Give me your number."

"Tch, nice way to ask."

Y/N pretended to be shocked. "Oh, would you prefer I beg?"

Levi already knew how red his entire face had become. No need to check a mirror. "H-hand me your p-phone."

Unsurprisingly even her phone wa as cute. And Levi honestly wanted to admire the case and how warm it felt after being in your pockets. Oh.. you'd touched it with your warm hands. Levi couldn't help but think about how warm your hands must feel. How the spaces between your fingers looked so perfect. Like they-

"Hey." A voice shook Y/N and Levi.

"Jean, what're you doing here?" Y/N asked as she stood moving closer to him.

"You've been gone all day. I had to ask Sasha where you were."

"No, you didn't because you didn't need to come here." Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Who's this?" Jean asked gesturing to Levi with his head. Levi felt his chest flare a little.

"Ugh, it doesn't matter because it has nothing to do with you!" She quickly grabbed her bag stuffing her notebook inside. "I'll talk to you later Levi." She explained her face still completely unamused. And with that she was pushing Jean out the door following him right out.

Levi's fingers dug into his palm. Who was that? It couldn't have been her boyfriend right? No, no that didn't make sense.

He started to pack up himself when he noticed your pretty phone sat next to his ordinary black one.

~ ~ ~ ~

Levi practically slammed into his dorm room scaring Mike who had his music blasting. Levi set his bag down on his chair, placing his phone on the desk.

"Hey man." Mike greeted as Levi quickly unpacked his other stuff. "I heard Hange forced you to go on a study date."

"I'm going to murder her." Levi turned, practically slamming his notebook into the desk. So hard that he could've sworn Mike jumped.

"Yeah what else is new?" He laughed trying to clear the air. "But did you at least get in close?"

Levi rolled his eyes. "She's.. there's this guy.."

Mike grew quiet for a few seconds. "You think she's with him?"

Levi normally wouldn't indulge Mike like this but his chest felt so tight that he was pretty sure he was going to burst. "She didn't seem happy to see him. She was like rolling her eyes when he came."

"Maybe he's just some guy then?"

"What if he isn't?"

"By the way you're describing it they'll break up soon anyway." Mike said "But that's great my plan worked."

Levi narrowed his eyes, "The library thing was you?"

Mike shrugged, "Hey, It could've been worse! Hange wanted to lock you guys in a supply closet for the night."

"Sleep with one eye open." Levi huffed, placing your phone down on his desk.

Mike immediately noticed, sitting up and placing his own phone to the side. "Don't tell me you murdered her and stole her phone for having a boyfriend that wasn't you." He chuckled

"Tch, she accidentally left it."

"How are you gonna return it?"

"I'll ask Hange for her dorm number tomorrow and I'll hand it over then."

"Ooo, well I would tell you not to go looking through her phone while you have it. But you're not like me so.." Mike shrugged, laying down with both hands holding his phone above his head.

Levi looked at Mike and then at your phone sitting on his desk. He silently looked away, putting away the rest of his stuff with a huff.

[piet-ra]

Taylor Swift x Catradora Masterlist

So, this is a masterlist no one asked for but I'm doing anyway. It's basically every Taylor Swift song that think fits the dynamic perfectly or that I'm completely projecting a Catradora storyline into (it's canon universe, no AU). I’m basically SPOPfying TS’s discography. It can be just one line or the whole song. I will highlight the lyrics and it is sorted by album. I hope you enjoy it and if it helps my fanfic writers out there, all the best. (just an fyi, I’m listening to all of this through a very romantic filter, before anyone comes at me saying that “actually catra wanted more than Adora and their issues were deeper than just unrequited love and bla bla. I know. just let us enjoy this gay animated couple)

I might develop my reasoning more in some than in others, so if you want to know more about why I chose such song and all that, just send me asks, I love them! 

Let’s get on with the list now!

From “Taylor Swift”(Yee haw taylor at her finest)

Picture to burn

okay, so bear with me. Catra’s pov after Adora left her.

“there’s no time for tears/I’m just sitting here plotting my revenge”

“And if you’re missing me you’d better keep it to yourself/ cause coming back around here would be bad for your health”

“so watch me strike a match on all my wasted time/ as far as i’m concerned you’re just another picture to burn” -> I can just imagine catra scratching their doodles when i listen to this through a catradora lens.

Teardrops on my guitar

Teenage Catra’s pov pining over Adora.

“Drew looks at me/I fake a smile so he won’t see/That I want and I’m needing/ everything that we should be”

 “I laugh 'cause it is just so funny/ That I can't even see anyone when he's with me”

“[he’s] the only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart”

A Place in this World

Adora trying to deal with the new responsibilities and pressure She-ra brought her.

“I don’t know what I want/ so don’t ask me/ ‘cause I’m still trying to figure it out/ don’t know what’s down this road/ I'm just walking/Trying to see through the rain coming down”

“I’m alone, on my own/ and that’s all I know/ I’ll be strong, I’ll be wrong/ oh but life goes on/ oh I’m just a girl/ trying to find a place in this world”

The outside

Catra’s pov(on her way to redemption)

“So, how can I ever try to be better?/ Nobody ever lets me in/ And I can still see you, this ain’t the best view/ On the outside looking in”

“You saw me there, but never knew/ That I would give it all up to be/ A part of this, a part of you/ And now it's all too late, so you see/ You could have helped if you had wanted to/ But no one notices until it's too late to do anything/ How could I ever try to be better?”

Tied Together With a Smile

Catra to Adora and her self sacrificial complex.

“hold on, baby, you’re losing it/ the water’s high/ you’re jumping into it/ And letting go and no one knows/ That you cry but you don’t tell anyone/ That you might not be the golden one/ and you’re tied together with a smile/ but you’re coming undone

Should’ve said no

Catra to Adora(season 1)

“you should’ve said no, you should’ve gone home/ you should’ve thought twice ‘fore you let it all go/You should've known that word like what you did with her/ Would get back to me/ and I should’ve been there, in the back of your mind/ I shouldn’t be asking myself why/You shouldn't be beggin' for forgiveness at my feet/ you should’ve said no, baby, and you might still have me”

“I can’t resist, before you go, tell me this/ was it worth it?”

I’m only me when I’m with you

just general catradora because this is effing cute

“I'm only up when you're not down/Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground/ It's like no matter what I do/ Well you drive me crazy half the time/ The other half I'm only tryna let you know that what I feel is true/ And I'm only me when I'm with you”

A Perfectly good heart

Catra’s pov(season 1)

“Why would you wanna take our love and tear it all apart now/ Why would you wanna make the very first scar/ Why would you wanna break a perfectly good heart”

“Maybe I should've seen the signs/ Should've read the writing on the wall/ And realized by the distance in your eyes that I would be the one to fall/ No matter what you say, I still can't believe/ That you would walk away/ It don't make sense to me”

From “Fearless”(platinum edition)

Forever and always

ohhh the promises.... catra’s pov.

“And then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all/ And you flashback to when we said forever and always/ And it rains in your bedroom/ Everything is wrong/ It rains when you're here and it rains when you're gone/ 'Cause I was there when you said forever and always/ You didn't mean it baby”

Come in with the rain

this one i think it fits both Adora and Catra singing the same thing to each other(while they were still stranged) and if you want the whole reasoning behind, ask haha cause otherwise this is going to be even bigger. 

“I've watched you so long, screamed your name/ I don't know what else I can say/ But I'll leave my window open/ 'Cause I'm too tired at night for all these games/ Just know I'm right here hoping/ That you'll come in with the rain/ I could go back to every laugh/ But I don't wanna go there anymore”

The other side of the door

this is pure catra. just pure catra. seasons 1- 4 Catra and what she did vs her real feelings. (very fitting for ”promises” too)

“In the heat of the fight I walked away/ Ignoring words that you were saying/ Trying to make me stay/ I said, "This time I've had enough"/ And you've called a hundred times/ But I'm not picking up/ 'Cause I'm so mad I might tell you that it's over/ But if you look a little closer/ I said, "Leave," but all I really want is you/ To stand outside my window throwing pebbles/ Screaming, "I'm in love with you"”

“Me and my stupid pride are sitting here alone/ Going through the photographs, staring at the phone”

“So babe if you know everything/ Tell me why you couldn't see/ When I left, I wanted you to chase after me”

“And I'll scream out the window/ I can't even look at you/ I don't need you but I do, I do, I do/ I say, "There's nothing you can say/ To make this right again, I mean it, I mean it”/ What I mean is/ I said, "Leave," but baby, all I want is you”

White Horse

okay, that’s just a joke. but I wanted to share the mental image my brain created. I just can’t stop imagining Catra on princess prom, looking longingly at Adora dancing with some nameless girl and singing “I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale/ I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet/ lead her up the stairwell” and then catching a glimpse of swifty “Now it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around”

i’m so sorry for this, but I’m actually not.

oh and the more serious interpretation is Catra refusing Adora and her fucking hero complex, saying it’s too late for her to try to go and fix things.

You belong with me

Just to mention this song fits every childhood friends to lovers ever. so that’s it.

Tell me why

Adora’s pov(season 3-4). I feel this is Adora getting more and more frustrated with Catra and especially after she “gave up” on catra after the portal.  and this connection made me sad.(and I’m not by any means calling Catra abusive with this, because I know how the song depicts a somewhat abusive relatioship and I’m not by saying Catradora is that(it isn’t, at all), but their relationship throughout the seasons is fucking messy.)

“I took a chance, I took a shot/ And you might think I'm bulletproof, but I'm not/ You took a swing, I took it hard/ And down here from the ground I see who you are/ I'm sick and tired of your attitude/ I'm feeling like I don't know you”

“And I need you like a heartbeat/ But you know you got a mean streak.”

“And I know you see what you’re doing to me/ Tell me why”

and the one that hurts:

“I take a step back, let you go/ I told you I’m not bulletproof/ Now you know”

You’re Not Sorry

Adora’s pov, post portal

“All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around/ I've been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down/ And it's taken me this long, baby, but I've figured you out/ And you're thinking we'll be fine again, but not this time around”

“You don't have to call anymore/ I won't pick up the phone/ This is the last straw/ Don't wanna hurt anymore/ And you can tell me that you're sorry/ But I don't believe you baby like I did before/ You're not sorry”

Change

so everything here might be a lot of a stretch, but I can’t really control what my head comes up with. The song progresses and so does Catradora’s story in this. like, I feel the song starts when they are kids in the Horde and then teenagers promising each other they will rise in the ranks and rule the place and then after defeating Horde Prime and getting their new beginning.(And maybe both of them singing, but I feel Adora would fit better, dunno)

“And it's a sad picture, the final blow hits you/Somebody else gets what you wanted again and/ You know it's all the same, another time and place/ Repeating history and you're getting sick of it/ But I believe in whatever you do/ And I'll do anything to see it through/ Because these things will change/ Can you feel it now?” -> Adora singing to catra imo, but you see it however you want to honestly.

“These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down/ This revolution, the time will come/ For us to finally win/ And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah” -> Here it’s the promise they made when they were younger, that they would be running the place together and even the “nothing rly bad can happen as long as we have each other” one.

“So we've been outnumbered, raided, and now cornered/ It's hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair/ We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found/ They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared” -> maybe their teenage years strengthening their resolution. 

“Tonight we stand, get off our knees/ Fight for what we've worked for all these years/ And the battle was long, it's the fight of our lives/ But we'll stand up champions tonight/ It was the night things changed/ Can you see it now?” -> this could be so so so many things, but I chose to see as a time skip and it is the night they defeated horde prime just to make it interesting. (this whole thing was such a stretch, but I’m having fun with it, so fuck it i guess)

From “Speak Now”

 Sparks Fly

Adora’s pov

“The way you move is like a full on rainstorm/ And I'm a house of cards/ You're the kind of reckless/ That should send me running/ But I kinda know that I won't get far”

“Take away the pain/ 'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile/ Get me with those green eyes, baby/ As the lights go down/ Gimme something that'll haunt me whenever you're not around/ 'Cause I see, sparks fly, when you smile”

“My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea”

Back to December

Catra’s pov(call from Horde Prime’s ship and interactions on Darla)

“Your guard is up and I know why/ Because the last time you saw me/ Is still burned in the back of your mind”

“So this is me swallowing my pride/ Standing in front of you, saying I'm sorry for that night”

“It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you”

“These days, I haven't been sleeping/ Staying up, playing back myself leaving”

“I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't/ So if the chain is on your door, I understand”

Mean

That’s just Catra singing to Shadow Weaver, I’m sorry. the whole song fits here, so just my top picks.

“You, with your words like knives/ And swords and weapons that you use against me/ You have knocked me off my feet again/ Got me feeling like I'm nothing/ You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard/ Calling me out when I'm wounded/ You, picking on the weaker man”

“You, with your switching sides/ And your wildfire lies and your humiliation/ You have pointed out my flaws again/ As if I don't already see them”

“All you are is mean/ And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life/ And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean”

The story of us

both Adora and Catras(basically the whole song lol)

“I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us/ How we met, and the sparks flew instantly”

“I used to know my place was a spot next to you/ Now I'm searching the room for an empty seat/ 'Cause lately, I don't even know what page you're on”

“Oh, a simple complication/ Miscommunications lead to fallout/ So many things that I wish you knew/ So many walls up, I can't break through”

“Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room/ And we're not speaking/ And I'm dying to know/ Is it killing you like it's killing me?/ Yeah, I don't know what to say/ Since the twist of fate when it all broke down/ And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now”

“How I was losing my mind when I saw you here/ But you held your pride like you should've held me”

“Why are we pretending this is nothing?/ I'd tell you I miss you, but I don't know how/ I've never heard silence quite this loud”

“This is looking like a contest/ Of who can act like they care less/ But I liked it better when you were on my side”

“But I would lay my armor down/ If you say you'd rather love than fight”

(let’s ignore that the song actually ends in tragedy lol)

Haunted

Why did you leave, Adora, for fuck’s sake. Catra’s pov.

“Come on, come on, don't leave me like this/ I thought I had you figured out/ Something's gone terribly wrong/ You're all I wanted/ Come on, come on, don't leave me like this/ I thought I had you figured out/ Can't breathe whenever you're gone/ Can't turn back now, I'm haunted”

“Stood there and watched you walk away/ From everything we had”

oh and a sad bonus. Catra’s pov from when she was Chipped:

“He will try to take away my pain/ And he just might make me smile/ But the whole time, I'm wishing it was you instead/ Oh, holding my breath/ Won't see you again/ Something keeps me holding onto nothing”

Last Kiss

I’m realizing with this list that Taylor is a Catra Kinnie(and she condones murder now, so great!). Catra’s pov.

“I still remember the look on your face/ Lit through the darkness at 1:58/ The words that you whispered/ For just us to know/ You told me you loved me/ So why did you go away?/ Away”

“All that I know is I don't know/ How to be something you miss/ I never thought we'd have a last kiss/ Never imagined we'd end like this”

Long Live

The very fortunate aftermath of the Heart of Etheria and the defeat of Horde Prime. anyone can be the narrator in this, but for me is Catra and Adora, together(but some Catra solos)(I’m such an Adora kinnie, but fuck if this isn’t dominated by my fav catgirl)

“I said: Remember this moment/ In the back of my mind/ The time we stood with our shaking hands/.../ The night you danced like you knew our lives/ Would never be the same/ You held your head like a hero/ On a history book page/ It was the end of a decade/ But the start of an age”

“Long live the walls we crashed through/ All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you/ I was screaming, long live all the magic we made/ And bring on all the pretenders/ One day, we will be remembered”

“And the cynics were outraged/ Screaming, "This is absurd"/ 'Cause for a moment, a band of thieves/ In ripped up jeans got to rule the world” (fourth wall breaking, catra is actually singing this to her haters)

“I'm not afraid/ Long live all the mountains we moved/ I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you/ I was screaming, long live that look on your face”

“Will you take a moment?/ Promise me this/ That you'll stand by me forever”

Ours

just a cute song, go listen to it and insert literally anyone in it.

From “Red”

Treacherous

i feel like it fits the vibe of the dynamic, but I don’t feel like expanding on it lol

All Too Well(because ofc)

I honestly don’t know who narrates this one. either Catra or Adora fit well, but I’m more inclined to say Adora but idk why. it’s just the vibe I’m getting.

“And I know it's long gone and/ There was nothing else I could do/ And I forget about you long enough/ To forget why I needed to” -> in this one i was like, Adora for sure

“Maybe we got lost in translation/ Maybe I asked for too much/ But maybe this thing was a masterpiece/ 'Til you tore it all up/ Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well” -> But then this one came and I was like, well, depending on the pov, it fits both.

“And you call me up again just to break me like a promise/ So casually cruel in the name of being honest”(best lyrics c’mon) -> and the whole break me like a promise thingy made me think Catra’s pov, but then I guess you could also put it in Adora’s pov if you wanted to, so up to y’all.

I Almost Do

C’mon, Catra once again.

“And I just want to tell you/ It takes everything in me not to call you/ And I wish I could run to you/ And I hope you know that/ Every time I don’t/ I almost do, I almost do”

“I bet you think I either moved on or hate you/ ‘Cause each time you reach out, there’s no reply/ I bet it never, ever occurred to you/ That I can’t say hello to you/ And risk another goodbye”(kill me now, there’s still a lot of heartbreak for me to go through)

The Last Time

Catra’s pov, before she leaves Adora and has the little breakdown with Melog.

“This is the last time I'm asking you this/ Put my name at the top of your list/ This is the last time I'm asking you why/ You break my heart in the blink of an eye”

“Just like all those times before/ You wear your best apology/ But I was there to watch you leave/ And all the times I let you in/ Just for you to go again”

Everything has changed

baby Catra and baby Adora meeting and immediately clicking.(Tay is Adora and Ed is Catra for me, but as always, you do you.)

“I just wanna know you better/ Know you better, know you better now”

“'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"/ And your eyes look like coming home/ All I know is a simple name/ Everything has changed/ All I know is you held the door/ You'll be mine and I'll be yours/ All I know since yesterday/ Is everything has changed”

“ And all my walls stood tall, painted blue/ And I'll take 'em down, take 'em down/ And open up the door for you”

Come back… be here

it talks about leaving and all, and the obvious choice is Catra, but Imma put it down as an Adora pov.  for as much as I talk about Adora leaving Catra, Catra also left Adora. justified or not, their reasons, their motives or wtv is not what i’m here to talk about. I’m just stating that Adora asked catra to stay many times and catra didn’t. So the feelings of abandonment also fit Adora very well depending on the way it is weaved. Some are rly just plain Catra, tho. back to the song.

“And this is when the feeling sinks in/ I don't wanna miss you like this/ Come back, be here, come back, be here”

“And now that I can put this down/ If I had known what I know now/ I never would've played so nonchalant”

“This is falling in love in the cruelest way/ This is falling for you when you are worlds away”

“But you're in London, and I break down/ 'Cause it's not fair that you're not around”

From “1989”

Style

general catradora

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time/ 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style”

Out of the woods

general catradora

“We were built to fall apart/ Then fall back together”

All you had to do was stay 

Catra’s pov. the line “picking up the pieces of the mess you made” just hits me where it stings, because I remember Catra trying to cover for Adora and then Adora not coming back and then having to deal with the wrath of Shadow weaver alone.

“Now, you say you want it back/ Now that it's just too late/ Well, could've been easy/ All you had to do was (Stay!)”

“Here you are now, calling me up/ But I don't know what to say/ I've been picking up the pieces/ Of the mess you made”

“Let me remind you/ This was what you wanted/ You ended it/ You were all I wanted “

I wish you would

Catra’s pov.

“Windows down, you pass my street, the memories start/ You say it's in the past, you drive straight ahead/ You're thinking that I hate you now/ 'Cause you still don't know what I never said/ I wish you would come back/ Wish I never hung up the phone like I did, I/ Wish you knew that/ I'd never forget you as long as I live, and I/ Wish you were right here, right now,/.../ I wish you would”

“We're a crooked love in a straight line down/ Makes you want to run and hide/ But it makes you turn right back around”

“You always knew how to push my buttons/ You give me everything and nothing”

Bad Blood(original version, not the remix)

Originally I thought, “oh this is Adora” but then I decided it was both of them together.

“’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood/ You know it used to be mad love/ So take a look what you've done/ ’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!/ Now we've got problems/ And I don't think we can solve 'em/ You made a really deep cut/ And baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!”

“Did you have to do this?/ I was thinking that you could be trusted/ Did you have to ruin what was shiny?/ Now it's all rusted/ Did you have to hit me where I'm weak?/ Baby, I couldn't breathe/ And rub it in so deep/ Salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me”

“Did you think we'd be fine?/ Still got scars in my back from your knives”(i really thought Adora here just cause of the literal scars in her back)

Wildest Dreams

if you want to headcanon a pre she-ra Catradora relationship, this song is really good. Since I’m trying( and def failing in many instances) to be as canon compliant as I can, I’ll skip it.

This Love

Catradora in the heart of etheria. could be both povs: either Catra holding Adora’s dying body and like “this love came back to me” or Adora prepared to die, dreaming about Catra, letting her love go, but in the end came back to her. for me, this is Adora’s, the whole song feels like her to me

“Currents swept you out again/ And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone” -> she’s fading, she’s being fully consumed now and the currents swept catra out from her. 

“In silent screams and wildest dreams/ I never dreamed of this” -> she never allowed herself to dream that Catra would love her or that she wanted a future with Catra, but now she’s being faced with the loss of exactly that.

“This love is good, this love is bad/ This love is alive back from the dead/ These hands had to let it go free, and/ This love came back to me” -> their love is a very complicated thing, is not easy. they have a history of being enemies that tarnish it a bit and when it was too bad, they had to let it go. but the love came back to them in full force. alive back from the dead, literally and figuratively.

“Lantern, burning/ Flickered in my mind, only you/ But you were still gone, gone, gone”

“Been losing grip, on sinking ships/ You showed up just in time” -> adora dying, being saved in the most dramatic way possible.

“This love left a permanent mark/ This love is glowing in the dark” -> just the imagery, wow. and the antithesis of the mark of  scars left by love and now the mark of it is the glowing.

“Your kiss, my cheek/ I watched you leave/ Your smile, my ghost/ I fell to my knees/ When you're young, you just run/ But you come back to what you need” -> finally reunited yay

I know places

Catradora in the Horde being super cute and hiding everywhere, just because.

“Something happens when everybody finds out/ See the vultures circling, dark clouds/ Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out/ It could burn out”

“'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns/ They are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run”

“Baby, I know places we won't be found/ And they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down/ 'Cause I, I know places we can hide/ They are the hunters, we are the foxes, and we run”

“Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love”

From “Reputation” (Not expecting much from this one)

 Delicate

Catradora being all cute and insecure after the end of the war and learning how to navigate their relationship, the old and the new. Catra’s pov, probably.

“This ain't for the best/ My reputation's never been worse, so/ You must like me for me/ We can't make/ Any promises now, can we, babe?/ Is it cool that I said all that?/ Is it chill that you're in my head?/ 'Cause I know that it's delicate (Delicate)/ Is it cool that I said all that?/ Is it too soon to do this yet?”

Gorgeous

so, i think this song is extremely cute and would fit very well in many various au’s, even some of mine, so I’m just leaving it out here, check it out if you haven’t, but won’t expand on it. 

Dress(I was pleasantly surprised bout this one)

Catra’s pov.

“All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation/ My hands are shaking from holding back from you/ All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting/ My hands are shaking from all this”

“Say my name and everything just stops/ I don't want you like a best friend/ Only bought this dress so you could take it off/ Take it/ Carve your name into my bedpost/ ’Cause I don't want you like a best friend/ Only bought this dress so you could take it off/ Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me/ Flashback to my mistakes/ My rebounds, my earthquakes/ Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me/ And I woke up just in time/ Now I wake up by your side”

 New Year’s Day

Another super sweet song that doesn’t exactly fit in the canon compliant list, but that I definitely use in my future Catradora headcanon, so I’ll just put in a few lyrics. 

“There's glitter on the floor after the party/.../You and me from the night before, but/ Don’t read the last page/ But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you’re turning away/ I want your midnights/ But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day”

“But I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we're making mistakes”

“You and me forevermore”

From “Lover”(this album is so sweet fuuuuck)

 Lover

the whole song. just, future catradora. Adora’s pov tho because this is such a dorkish in love song and that bit about “You’ll save all of your dirtiest jokes for me”, Adora saying this to Catra. that’s it

 Paper Rings

future again. this whole album might be just me fantasizing about their future, who knows.

“Cat and mouse for a month or two or three/ Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe/ Darling, you're the one I want, and/ I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this/ Uh huh, that's right/ Darling, you're the one I want/ In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams/ Oh, you're the one I want”

 Death By A Thousand Cuts

I forgot this song and I’m adding it now at the last minute. extremely tired. not gonna paste the song here. but go listen, it’s really fitting for catradora.

“saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts”

Afterglow

this is one I didn’t want to put in here, just because of a few lines specifically, but it made me think of Catra’s apology, so here it goes. (the parts “it’s all in my head” and “It’s all me” that bug me so, but we’ll pretend they don’t exist)

“I pinned your hands behind your back, oh/ Thought I had reason to attack, but no”

“Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves/ Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us/ Why'd I have to break what I love so much?/ Sorry that I hurt you/ I don't wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you “

From “Folklore”

OKay, so now that we got here, we’re gonna get a bit creative and take everything with a grain of salt(more than we’ve already been doing) cause I doubt we’re gonna manage to be canon compliant in every one(this includes evermore too, I’m about to go off in these two albums), but everything just oozes catradora, so bear with me. and if you made it this far, damn you’re hot.

The 1

Adora’s pov. before they actually got together.  

“I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit/ Been saying "yes" instead of "no" -> her new life in Brightmoon and all her new good experiences.

“And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow” -> such an Adora thing to say.

“But we were something, don't you think so?/ Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool/ And if my wishes came true/ It would've been you/ In my defense, I have none/ For never leaving well enough alone/ But it would've been fun/ If you would've been the one” -> the longing, the yearning

“And it's another day waking up alone“ -> :( 

“I persist and resist the temptation to ask you/ If one thing had been different/ Would everything be different today?”

Cardigan

Catra’s pov. 

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan/ Under someone's bed/ You put me on and said I was your favorite”

“A friend to all is a friend to none/ Chase two girls, lose the one/ You drew stars around my scars/ But now I'm bleedin'”

“But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss/ I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs/ The smell of smoke would hang around this long/ 'Cause I knew everything when I was young/ I knew I'd curse you for the longest time/ Chasin' shadows in the grocery line/ I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired/ And you'd be standin' in my front porch light/ And I knew you'd come back to me”

Exile

now rlyyy bear with me. It gets confusing. And big. It's the whole song too.

Bon iver's verse + Swift's chorus is Catra seeing adora move on so quickly and leaving Adora behind. 

Swift's verse + Bon Iver's chorus is Adora's pov. And then they merge in the bridge to air their grievances. I'll demonstrate below.

“I can see you standing, honey/ With his arms around your body/ Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all/ And it took you five whole minutes/ To pack us up and leave me with it/ Holdin' all this love out here in the hall”  +  “I think I've seen this film before/ And I didn't like the ending/ I'm not your problem anymore/ So who am I offending now?/ You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seein' you out/ I think I've seen this film before/ So I'm leaving out the side door = Catra’s pov

“I can see you starin', honey/ Like he's just your understudy/ Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me/ Second, third, and hundredth chances/ Balancin' on breaking branches/ Those eyes add insult to injury”  +  “I think I've seen this film before/ And I didn't like the ending/ You're not my homeland anymore/ So what am I defending now?/ You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out/ I think I've seen this film before = Adora’s pov

and then the bridge with both.(it’s one hell of a giant bridge, not gonna paste it here lol)

My tears ricochet

This one i see as a conversation, one that I'll again exemplify lol.

“And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too/ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe/ All the hell you gave me?/ 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you/ 'Til my dying day” -> both of them 

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/ And you're the hero flying around, saving face” ->Catra

“And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?/ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed” -> Adora

“Look at how my tears ricochet” -> both

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/ 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave” -> Adora

“And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?/ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed” -> Catra

“Look at how my tears ricochet” -> both

“And I can go anywhere I want/ Anywhere I want, just not home/ And you can aim for my heart, go for blood/ But you would still miss me in your bones/ And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky)/ And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)” -> both

“You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same/ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed” -> both

“You turned into your worst fears/ And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain” - > Adora

“Crossing out the good years” ->both.

I could honestly make a whole post about this song and Catradora, dissecting lyric by lyric, I even have an animatic for this song thumbnailed, so I’ll jump to the next one before it gets too out of hand. again y’all can ask me anytime if you want to know more.

Mirrorball

Adora and her self sacrificial bs and not being rly her so she can be what everyone expects *from* her. Make me cry more, why don’t you!

“I'm a mirrorball/ I'll show you every version of yourself tonight/ I'll get you out on the floor/ Shimmering beautiful/ And when I break, it's in a million pieces”

“Hush, when no one is around, my dear/ You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes/ Spinning in my highest heels, love/ Shining just for you”

“Hush, I know they said the end is near/ I can change everything about me to fit in/ I'm still on that tightrope/ I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me/ And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why/ I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try/ I'm still on that trapeze/ I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me”

Seven

Baby Adora to baby Catra. 

“And I've been meaning to tell you/ I think your house is haunted/ Your dad is always mad and that must be why/ And I think you should come live with me/ And we can be pirates/ Then you won't have to cry/ Or hide in the closet/ And just like a folk song/ Our love will be passed on”

August

older teen/adult Catra reminiscing about younger teen Catra dealing with her love for Adora. Probably the last August before Adora joined the rebellion. (ignoring the love triangle ofc)

“But I can see us lost in the memory/ August slipped away into a moment in time/ 'Cause it was never mine/ And I can see us twisted in bedsheets/ August sipped away like a bottle of wine/ 'Cause you were never mine”

“I remember thinkin' I had you/ Back when we were still changin' for the better/ Wanting was enough/ For me, it was enough/ To live for the hope of it all/ Cancel plans just in case you'd call/ And say, "Meet me behind the mall"/ So much for summer love and saying "us"/ 'Cause you weren't mine to lose”

This is me trying

Catra's pov/redemption

“I've been having a hard time adjusting/ I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/ I have a lot of regrets about that/ Pulled the car off the road to the lookout/ Could've followed my fears all the way down/ And maybe I don't quite know what to say/ But I'm here in your doorway/ I just wanted you to know that this is me trying/ And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound/ It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you/ You're a flashback in a film reel”

Illicit affairs

Just leaving it out here cause it is so gayyy. And I'll prob write an au for this once I'm through with my five thousand WIPs.

Invisible string

Just the feeling of the song, not exactly catradora specific. More generic.

“Time, curious time/ Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs/ Were there clues I didn't see?/ And isn't it just so pretty to think/ All along there was some/ Invisible string/ Tying you to me?/  Time, mystical time/ Cutting me open, then healing me fine”

Mad woman

Catra's pov S1

“Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/ What about that?/ And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry/ And there's nothing like a mad woman/ What a shame she went mad/ No one likes a mad woman/ You made her like that/ And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out”

Epiphany 

Adora dying in catra's arms and dreaming about her future with catra. 

“"Sir, I think he's bleeding out"/ And some things you just can't speak about/ With you I serve, with you I fall down, down/ Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out, out/ Only twenty minutes to sleep/ But you dream of some epiphany/ Just one single glimpse of relief/ To make some sense of what you've seen”

Betty

Another case of a song with STRONG catradora vibe, but too au- ish. The imagery of the song is too clear. Still, these parts here… 

“The worst thing that I ever did/ Was what I did to you/ I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything/ But I know I miss you/ Yeah, I showed up at your party/ Will you have me? Will you love me?/ Will you kiss me on the porch/ In front of all your stupid friends”

Peace

adora's pov. I think is Adora kinda warning Catra that she can’t promise to stop saving the world, she can’t stop being she-ra, it is who she is and danger is going to follow her, so, is it enough if she can never give Catra peace?

“I never had the courage of my convictions/ As long as danger is near/ And it's just around the corner, darlin'/ 'Cause it lives in me/ No, I could never give you peace”

“All these people think love's for show/ But I would die for you in secret”

“The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me/ Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

From "evermore"(FUCKING FINALLY and everything is going to be au-ish I guess)

Champagne problems

Adora's pov, but i resent this cause THEIR PROBLEMS ARE NOT CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS OKAY? but nevertheless, It’s adora leaving Catra behind and breaking my heart in the fucking process.

“You booked the night train for a reason/ So you could sit there in this hurt”

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing/ Left you out there standing/ Crestfallen on the landing/.../ Your heart was glass, I dropped it”

“You had a speech, you're speechless/ Love slipped beyond your reaches/ And I couldn't give a reason”

How evergreen, our group of friends/ Don't think we'll say that word again/.../ I never was ready so I watch you go/ Sometimes you just don't know the answer/ 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you”

Gold rush

Catra's pov pining over Adora before and after she became She-ra, but especially after with the bit “I don’t like that everyone would die to feel your touch”. After all the pining and imagining what a perfect relationship they could have she wakes up to reality and sees that “it could never be”, “It will never be”. 

“Gleaming, twinkling/ Eyes like sinking ships on waters/ So inviting, I almost jump in”

“I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush/ I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch/ Everybody wants you/ Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you”

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/ With your hair falling into place like dominoes”

“At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit/ And the coastal town we wandered 'round had nеver seen a love as pure as it” 

“My mind turns your life into folklore/ I can't dare to dream about you anymore”

“'Cause it will never be”

‘Tis the damn season

Adora’s pov. Adora being the one who left because she has to, but she misses Catra and their old times together. However, she knows she won’t be able to stay so she’s asking for this weekend and breaking her own heart in the process.

“There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me/ But if it's all the same to you/ It's the same to me”

“So we could call it even/ You could call me "babe" for the weekend/ ​'Tis the damn season, write this down/ And the road not taken looks real good now/ And it always leads to you and my hometown”

“You can run, but only so far/ I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave/ But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me/ Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake/ I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay/ So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends/ And wonder about the only soul/ Who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'”

“And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own/ To leave the warmest bed I've ever known/ We could call it even/ Even though I'm leaving/ And I'll be yours for the weekend”

Tolerate it

Catra’s pov and how she thinks Adora feels towards her. How she only tolerated Catra until something bigger, better and shinier came along and she abandoned her.(what to expect from a track five, huh?)

“While you were out building other worlds, where was I?/ Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?/ I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life/ Drawing hearts in the byline/ Always taking up too much space or time”

“You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I/ Break free and leave us in ruins/ Took this dagger in me and removed it/ Gain the weight of you then lose it/ Believe me, I could do it”

“If it's all in my head tell me now/ Tell me I've got it wrong somehow/ I know my love should be celebrated/ But you tolerate it”

Happiness

adora’s pov. I feel this is Adora letting Catra go after season 3. just, she loves Catra and there were many great moments because of her, but that doesn’t mean the hurt isn’t there now. also doesn’t mean she’ll be forever miserable, proved by her new life in Brightmoon. It’s her realizing that Catra is actually hurting her, and being angry and then letting go.(god this reminds me of a fanfic where catra stated that she was happy without Adora, could be happy without Adora. But with her, she could be happier)

“There'll be happiness after you/ But there was happiness because of you/ Both of these things can be true/ Past the blood and bruise/ Past the curses and cries/ Beyond the terror in the nightfall/ Haunted by the look in my eyes/ That would've loved you for a lifetime/ Leave it all behind/ And there is happiness”

“Tell me, when did your winning smile/ Begin to look like a smirk?/ When did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ Pointed at my deepest hurt?”

“I can't make it go away by making you a villain/ I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven/ And I pulled your body into mine/ Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties/ No one teaches you what to do/ When a good man hurts you/ And you know you hurt him, too” -> this whole bridge, man. THIS RIGHT HERE. They both hurt each other, there’s no simple clean cut way to look at things, to make Catra the big bad villain. but that also doesn’t erase the pain felt, so argh, this kills me.

“All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness/ You haven't met the new me yet/ And I think she'll give you that” -> and this little hint of hope.

Dorothea(i swear, i will write a Dorothea/tis the damn season au)

Adora is dorothea and this is Catra’s pov

“Hey, Dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?/ When we were younger down in the park/ Honey, making a lark of the misery”

“You got shiny friends since you left town/ A tiny screen's the only place I see you now”

“It's never too late to come back to my side/ The stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo/ And if you're ever tired of bеing known for who you know/ You know that you'll always know me, Dorothea (Uh-uh)/Dorothea”

coney island

again, both povs. one to each other, illustrated below.

“Did I close my fist around something delicate?/ Did I shatter you?/ And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island/ Wondering where did my baby go?/ The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go/ Sorry for not making you my centerfold” -> adora

“Over and over/ Lost again with no surprises/ Disappointments, close your eyes/ And it gets colder and colder/ When the sun goes down” -> both

“The question pounds my head/ What's a lifetime of achievement/ If I pushed you to the edge?” -> catra

“Were you waiting at our old spot/ In the tree line/ By the gold clock/ Did I leave you hanging every single day?” -> adora

“Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?” -> Catra

“And when I got into the accident/ The sight that flashed before me was your face” -> Adora

“Sorry for not making you my centerfold” -both

Ivy (hold on tight, this is big)

this is a good one.

“How's one to know?/ I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones/ In a faith forgotten land/ In from the snow/ Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow/ Tarnished but so grand”

“And the old widow goes to the stone every day/ But I don't, I just sit here and wait/ Grieving for the living”

“Oh, goddamn/ My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ Taking mine, but it's been promised to another/ Oh, I can't/ Stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ My house of stone, your ivy grows/ And now I'm covered in you so” ->  for me, this is Adora in the moments preceding the failsafe and the Heart of Etheria, and the person she’s committed to is She-ra(and dying as she-ra). And she’s trying to fight and be strong to make the sacrifice she knows she’ll be asked to, but she simply can’t stop Catra from “putting roots in her dreamland”. Catra’s touch enlightened her, even though tarnished by their years of being enemies, it felt grand and it could chase the pain away; just for a moment, all her pain fit in Catra’s hand. But, she grieves for this touch for she knows it’s only a dream. Even though she’s now “covered” in Catra, she’ll never be able to fully have her, not when she’s so committed to She-ra.

“I wish to know/ The fatal flaw that makes you long to be/ Magnificently cursed/ He's in the room/ Your opal eyes are all I wish to see/ He wants what's only yours” -> now here she’s in the heart of etheria and wondering why would Catra want her so much when she knows she can’t have her, when she knows she’s doomed. the He in this is Horde Prime. As we see in the “future hallucination”, all she wants is Catra and he wants(to destroy ofc) what’s Catra’s only - herself.

“How's one to know?/ I'd live and die for moments that we stole/On begged and borrowed time/ So tell me to run/ Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become -> Adora know it’s only borrowed time, it will end and she feels like there’s nothing she can do about that.

“So yeah, it's a fire/ It's a goddamn blaze in the dark/ And you started it/ You started it/ So yeah, it's a war/ It's the goddamn fight of my life/ And you started it/ You started it” -> here Adora is finally fighting back against Destiny, Prime, The Heart… and it’s all because Catra started it just by loving Adora, covering her in her ivy and making Adora so unable to not love her back.

(can you tell this is one of my favorite songs in the album?)

long story short

honestly, post-war catradora. Adora’s pov.

“Fatefully/ I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me/ Misery/ Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep/ And you passed right by/ I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides/ The knife cuts both ways/ If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break”

“When I dropped my sword/ I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door/ And we live in peace/ But if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready/ No more keepin' score/ Now I just keep you warm (Keep you warm)/ No more tug of war Now I just know there's more”

“And I fell from the pedestal/ Right down the rabbit hole/ Long story short, it was a bad time/ Pushed from the precipice/ Climbed right back up the cliff/ Long story short, I survived”

closure

catra to adora pre season 5

“it's been a long time/ And seeing the shape of your name/ Still spells out pain/ It wasn't right/ The way it all went down/ Looks like you know that now”

“Yes, I got your letter/ Yes, I'm doing better/ It cut deep to know ya, right to the bone/ I know that it's over, I don't need your/ Closure, your closure”

“Don't treat me like/ Some situation that needs to be handled/ I'm fine with my spite/ I know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life/ Staying friends would iron it out so nice/ Guilty, guilty, reaching out across the sea/ That you put between you and me/ But it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary”

Evermore

just the message in general i think fits season 5 catradora very well. how, yeah, the pain sucks and it’s terrible but it won’t be for evermore. Justin’s bridge exemplify very well just the desperation of being in the middle of this whirlwind of pain, begging for a pause just to see if there’s any way to be recovered from that. it just so happens, there is. 

no exemples in this one, the vibe of speaks for itself and I’m rly tired right now.

...

oof, so there was it. Hope you liked it! show me some love cause this took a while lol(but a got my TS marathon done without feeling guilty, because at least… content? so there’s that). if you made it this far, THANK YOU!! stream evermore and good night y’all(or morning or afternoon, wtv works for your timezone lol) 

[krustywhore]

a language in itself // moreid

inspired by this doodle by @owlpip / @owlpipscribbles and i just had the cutest idea when i saw it so naturally i wrote this little one-shot<3 fig i hope you like it

Spencer, who was arguably not-so easily frazzled, was currently debating whether or not to lose his shit in front of all of his new coworkers. It was his first day at the BAU, for Christ’s sake, and he was seconds away from making a complete fool of himself in the middle of the bullpen.

With nearly a dozen books in his arms, the arm of his glasses held firmly between his teeth, and a to-go cup of black coffee balanced precariously on top of the stack, he was an accident waiting to happen. He passed interns and desk agents coming and going as he headed to where he was told to meet his new boss, but it was only a matter of time before his adamancy in taking only one trip from his car came back to bite him.

If he had known there was a thick bundle of computer cables wired under the carpeted bullpen floor, he would’ve made it to his new desk without a single problem, but his scuffed Chuck Taylor’s immediately caught the bump of wires and before he knew it books were tumbling to the ground and his full cup of coffee had emptied itself all over…a very attractive man.

Fuck.

His glasses were in his lap, thankfully unbroken, but he hastily put them on only for the blurry man above him to get somehow more handsome.

As if the situation couldn’t get any more humiliating, his face went bright red and he fumbled trying to collect everything off the floor.

“Hey, hey, slow down kid,” the man spoke, making Spencer freeze on his knees, looking back up. “You okay?”

He was certain his heart was seconds away from beating out of his chest.

“Me? I…I’m the one that just spilled hot coffee all over your shirt,” he laughed nervously, wanting to melt into the floor and disappear forever. “I’m so sorry-“

The man laughed and somehow even his teeth were perfect when he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty boy. One of the benefits of this job is carrying spare clothes around in case we end up skipping town,” the man smirked, picking up some of the scattered books and stacking them up on a nearby desk. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Spencer shook his head, still blushing as he felt multiple sets of eyes on him from around the room. He just hoped none of them belonged to his new boss.

“Good, well, I’ll take these for you if you’ll show me where your desk is,” he offered, a dark coffee stain still clear as day in the middle of his navy blue shirt.

Spencer followed uncomfortably behind him before pointing to an empty desk in the corner of the bullpen opposite another desk with a fair spread of files and picture frames adorning it.

“No kidding,” the man chuckled, dropping the stack of books on the desk. “I guess we’re desk neighbors, pretty boy.”

Spencer choked, coughing until he regained his composure as his handsome apparent-coworker pounded on his back to help him.

“Thank you,” he choked out, his throat still groggy. “I…I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

The man’s casual smile dropped and he took on a serious look.

“What do you mean?”

Spencer fiddled with the buttons on his cuffs, thoroughly embarrassed enough for one lifetime.

“I mean that I just spilled coffee all over you and humiliated myself on my first day and…and I clearly don’t belong here if I can’t even make it an hour before causing a disaster, but you’re just so…so nice and historically, guys like you are never nice to guys like me, but you are! And…and I can’t possibly fit in here, I don’t know what Gideon was thinking-”

“Hold up, Jason Gideon? Holy shit, you’re the one he’s been telling us about!” He looked like he was completely gobsmacked, looking Spencer up and down multiple times to the point where the younger man was getting concerned.

“I guess so…?” He explained shyly. “Why, did he not tell you I was twenty-two?”

The other man rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at his shoes.

“No, no it’s not that it’s...,” he paused, smiling as if he was nervous. “It’s just that I was going to ask you out before I knew we were would be working together.”

Spencer did a double-take and just…stared.

“You…w-what?”

His older counterpart smiled.

“I know it’s technically against the rules but…I would love to take you to get a replacement coffee sometime,” he smirked, leaning up against Spencer’s desk. “What do ya’ say, pretty boy?”

Reid definitely wasn’t any more prepared for the nickname than he was before, but somehow when it followed an invitation for a date, it felt more genuine.

Not that he had ever been asked out before, and especially not by anyone as attractive as the man in front of him.

“I-I don’t even know your name,” he mumbled, desperate for any excuse.

“Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, at your service,” he grinned, reaching forward to grip the short length of necktie that poked out from underneath Spencer’s sweater vest. “And you are?”

His heart was beating so fast and his head was spinning so dizzyingly that he almost didn’t register the response until it hit him hard.

Derek Morgan.

Fuck, even his name was sexy.

He flushed bright red at the even closer contact and how closely their faces were. Surely Derek wouldn’t do anything in the middle of the office but…but something told him the other man didn’t much care.

“D-Dr. Spencer Reid,” he stumbled, barely getting the words out of his mouth in what was more of a breathy whisper. He nearly blocked out everyone else in the room as his eyes just latched onto Derek’s and refused to look away. “And…I would love to get coffee with you, but I’m paying. Since, you know, I probably just gave you at least a second-degree burn from the last one.”

The beautiful man—Derek, his brain supplied—laughed heartily, his deep brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he reluctantly let go of Spencer’s tie.

“You drive a hard bargain, Doc,” he teased, circling around to his desk only to pull out a small duffel bag from which he produced a light gray henley shirt. “How’s lunch today sound?”

Spencer smiled as the older man began walking backwards slowly, not looking away until he got his answer.

“You know where I’ll be,” he answered, pleasantly surprising himself with his own ability to be coy.

Derek shot him one last smirk before disappearing down the hallway and Spencer was left absolutely dumbfounded by the conversation he’d just had.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled under his breath, sliding off his satchel and depositing it on his desk chair before following the signs to where Agent Gideon’s office was located, as he had been instructed to stop by upon arrival.

His hands were shaking and his heart was still pounding and he was sure that Gideon was going to comment on how red he knew his face would still be, but he was practically floating on cloud nine as he sat down with his pseudo-mentor.

“Spencer, did something happen? You look…stressed,” the older profiler spoke as he stepped into the room. He shrugged in an attempt to be casual, not really wanting to discuss his romantic life with Gideon of all people. Especially when it involved someone they both worked with.

“No, nothing, I guess I’m just excited,” he lied through his teeth, hoping the man who studied behavior for a living and knew him like his own son couldn’t tell he was definitely blowing smoke.

“Right, well, if you’re ready now I can have JJ call the team in for the briefing and you can meet everyone,” Gideon explained and Spencer followed him out of the room and down the hall. He pulled out a chair around the large round table for the younger man to sit down and he moved to stand by a large screen to talk to a blonde woman who didn’t look too much older than he was. She smiled at him as she began pressing buttons on a remote and he gave a quick wave before the room filled with, what he assumed was the rest of the team. As he stood he immediately locked eyes with Derek again, who smirked and set down his files in front of the seat right beside Spencer’s.

“Alright, well as I told you all, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and he’ll be joining our team from now on. Spencer, this is Agent Hotchner, our unit chief, Elle Greenaway, Derek Morgan, our technical analyst Penelope Garcia, and our communications liaison Jennifer Jareau,” Gideon listed, despite the fact that they all could’ve introduced themselves, but he was met with a tight hug from Penelope before he could protest and awkwardly adjusted his clothing afterwards.

He smiled nonetheless and explained that he didn’t do handshakes to the rest of the team before they all filled up the seats around the table with Derek sitting so close that he couldn’t help but notice him in the corner of his eye.

“So, no handshakes?” The other man whispered in his ear as JJ passed around the folders of new case files to the team.

Spencer huffed a laugh under his breath.

“Well, I have a bit of an issue with germs. Did you know shaking hands can transfer over three thousand bacteria between parties? Scientifically speaking, it would be safer to kiss,” he rambled before freezing as he realized the implications of what he had just said.

“Oh, really? Strictly scientifically?” Derek teased, knocking their knees together under the table.

He knew Derek was looking at him but he felt a smirk creep onto his lips as he refused to give in and kept his eyes on the slides JJ was presenting.

“Strictly,” he smirked coyly.

As they all collected their things and took off on the jet, Spencer couldn’t help glancing up from his work every few minutes to sneak glances at Derek from across the plane. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Derek was almost always staring back. Seemingly none of the other team members noticed anything going on between them, or if they did, they graciously didn’t mention it.

It wasn’t long until they landed and made their way to the local police station, all expressing concern that the station’s coffee machine was broken until Derek spoke up before anyone could move on.

“Reid and I will go pick up some coffee and lunch for everyone, I think we passed a cafe just down the street. You go ahead and start here, we’ll be back in no time,” he offered, nudging Spencer with his elbow until the younger man followed him out the door and into one of the parked SUV’s. “So, does now work for you to take a quick coffee date?”

Spencer laughed, relaxing already as Derek pulled out of the parking lot.

“Now sounds perfect.”

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 4

September 28th 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was letting it all out.  

Siena had called, cooped up in her room in the house she rented with two other girls, taking a break from studying for torts law or shorts law or whatever type of law it was that she had to study.  It was these moments – moments when Siena caught up with her younger sister – that reminded her that she was slaving through law school because Aberdeen would probably need a lawyer one day after doing something colossally stupid.  She’d usually start the conversations with “You can’t tell mom and dad…” and Siena would promise not to.  And, well, she’d keep that promise.  Because sisters never told.  They only ever told on Camden.

Aberdeen told Siena about the night with William in June – she told her about a week later, after Siena was finally settled back into her place in Ottawa.  They’d talked about it for a while and had come to terms with the fact that Aberdeen would never see William again because of the whole Sweden thing and because of the fact that Toronto was a city full of a few million people.  They’d accepted it and moved on.

But then, of course, William showed up in the elevator on her first day of work and the floodgates opened.  

“Wait…hold on a second,” Siena held her hand up.  “You’re telling me you hooked up with a Toronto Maple Leaf.”

“Yes.”

“A hockey player.  That guy was a hockey player.”

“Yes,” Aberdeen stressed.  

“And now…” Siena paused.  “You work for the president of the team that he plays for.”

“Precisely.”

Siena let out a long, loud sign, facepalming before rubbing her temples.  “I don’t know how you get yourself into these situations, Aberdeen,” she shook her head.  “I honestly don’t.”

“I don’t, either.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Aberdeen looked at her sister weird.  “There’s nothing I can do about it.  It says right in the employee handbook that no employee and player are allowed to hook up.  I can’t tell Brendan and William can’t tell the rest of the team.  That’s that.”

“Are you scared he might?”

Aberdeen considered the question.  “I really don’t know.  On one side, I feel like if he really wanted to tell them he would have told them already, and Brendan Shanahan would have found out through the grapevine and I would have already lost my job.  Like, I wouldn’t have even gone to Newfoundland.  On the other hand, I feel like the comments he’s been saying to me just make it seem like this is a game to him and he’s waiting on the most opportune moment to tell.”

“Comments?” Siena asked.  

Aberdeen sighed.  “I went to dinner with a bunch of them in St. John’s because Jason invited me, and he asked me who my favourite Leaf was in this really flirty way,” she explained.  “Then a few days later he found me alone and told me I should have said him.  Or at least have said he was fucking awesome because that’s what I said that night after we hooked up.”

Siena facepalmed again.  “Oh, Aberdeen…”

“I know, Siena.”

“Does Kasha know?” she asked.

“Of course Kasha knows.”

“Kasha won’t tell a soul.  She’s good like that.”

“I know.  My problem here is William.”

“Listen, Aberdeen…this is a fucked up situation but it’s…I mean, technically you didn’t hook up with him when you were employee.  It was months before.  You had no idea who he was.  That’s what my lawyer brain is telling me right now.”

“I don’t know if that matters,” Aberdeen said.  “I keep getting told that this is the dream job, that if I do well with Mr. Shanahan I can have my pick of any job in any field that I want in Toronto, including writing.  That’s how well connected he is.  I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side at all.  I have to be on my best behaviour and I have to keep doing well.”

“Then keep being on your best behaviour.  Keep doing your job,” Siena encouraged.  “And keep William away.”

***

September 30th, 2019

With only two days until the start of the season, Brendan had a lot of meetings with a lot of people.  There were meetings with hockey ops, meetings with the head scouts, meetings with player development, meetings with analytics.  It was a much busier time than just three weeks ago.  A lot more coffee runs.  More ordering of catered lunches.  More running around like a chicken with her head cut off, like Brendan said she would.  And this wasn’t even the start of the season.

Brendan wanted her to sit it in on the meeting he had now with basically the entire senior management so they could go over upcoming events and initiatives they’d put on throughout the season.  Kyle Dubas would be there.  Brandon Pridham and Laurence Gilman, the assistant general managers would be there.   Dave Morrison, the director of player personnel would be there.  Brad Lynn, the director of team operations would be there.  Stephen Hare, the director of finance would be there.  Steve Keogh, the director of media relations would be there.  Alison Rockwell, the director of business relations would be there.  Leanne Hederson, the manager of hockey operations would be there.  

Aberdeen was clearly studying the employee directory.  

They had a list of things to talk about, and talked through them all.  Aberdeen had her notebook and tried to take notes, but she felt like she was writing a foreign language and none of this would make sense when she went to read them again.  There was talk about “You Can Play Night”, about galas, about charity golf tournaments, about community outreach programs, about the alumni events, about the MLSE Launchpad initiatives…

Then they started to talk about alternate jerseys.  She thought there was only home and away jerseys, but no, there was apparently a third for a special night.  A “St. Pats” jersey.  It was green.  A definite change from the blue, but they kept going on and on about it.  Do we do this?  What about this?  How about this?  It was incredibly pedantic.  She felt like she was in science class again, doodling instead of taking notes since she had no clue what was being said or what was going on.  

“Do you think we should go with the same one from last season, or should we choose a new design?” Dave Morrison asked.

“It’s hard to say.  If we go with last year’s design, jersey sales may stagnate or decline if we compare it on a year-by-year basis, but a new design will boost that,” Stephen Hare said.

“Well, listen.  It’s the 2019-2020 season.  We can go with the design from 1919-1920,” Brandon Pridhan said, pulling up the mock-ups of the jersey.  Aberdeen took into account the green and white, the lettering, everything.  “Or should we balk the season number and go with this one, the 1926-1927 season design?” he held up the other mock-up.  It was basically the exact same design, except the colours were inverted.  

They were having an extremely serious and long discussion about this?  Aberdeen snorted from the corner.

Suddenly, when she looked up, every eye in the room was on her.  The smile immediately dropped from her face.  Brendan was looking at her.  “Something funny?”

Oh shit.  Oh shit.  Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.  “No, no…” she began, trying to cover for herself.  “It’s nothing – you know – it’s just that they look exactly the same to me.  I…you know, I’m still learning about all this stuff.”

“This…stuff?” Brendan asked, repeating her words.  The look that he gave her – she never wanted to be looked at like that again for the rest of her life.  “Oh…okay.  I see.  You think this has nothing to do with you.  You get hired by the Maple Leafs and you sit in on this meeting with, oh I don’t know, that iPad Pro which the company paid for, and you scoff because you think we’re taking this too seriously, and you don’t care about what jerseys fans put on their back.  But what you don’t know is that this hockey sweater is not just blue and white, it’s not just green and white, it’s actually a symbol,” he paused, moving from his spot at the table, walking around it.  “You’re also blindly unaware of the fact that in 1919 the Toronto Arenas were about to go under, only to be saved by a group of investors who renamed the team the Toronto St. Patricks, and who later made Conn Smythe their managing partner and their eventual owner.  Conn Smythe ended up changing their name in 1927 to the Toronto Maple Leafs because that maple leaf was the national symbol of Canada and, as he said, a badge of courage and a reminder of home of when he was a Canadian Army officer during World War One,” he picked the design he liked most from Brandon and pinned it onto the board, taking another from the pile.  Aberdeen’s heart stopped beating.  “The blue and white, he said, represented the Canadian skies and Canadian snow.  The name has changed, the investors have changed, and the logo has seen design changes, but that maple leaf is a symbol that represents the identity of Toronto, the history of this city, and the pride of the country.  It represents millions of dollars and countless jobs, and so it’s sort of comical how you think that you ever made a choice that exempted you from caring about these jerseys when, in fact, this city’s identity and one of the most well-known national symbols were selected for you by the people in this room who ran this hockey club.  All because of the influence of this stuff.”

He held onto a picture, holding it face up.  She broke eye contact to look down at it, only to see it was the maple leaf that was currently on the jersey.  The thirty-one points, meant to represent 1931 and the opening of Maple Leaf Gardens; the 17-vein detail, meant to represent when the franchise was founded in 1917; the 13 veins at the top, meant to represent the 13 Stanley Cup championships.  She realized what this symbol meant to not only the people in this room, but to the city, to the fabric and identity of it, to its storied past and bright future.  She realized the history behind it, the countless people who wore the sweater or jersey with pride for over a century now.  She realized how wrong and careless she’d been.  

When she looked back up, Brendan was staring at her.  So was everyone else still seated at the board table, some of them with amused looks on their faces.  “I’ll be outside if you need me,” she said, barely above a whisper because she was too embarrassed to even speak.  She clutched her iPad Pro and took the picture, walking out of the room.

The second the door closed behind her, she burst out into tears.  The tears streamed down her face as she escaped into the washroom, slamming the stall door behind her and locking it before breaking down in the bathroom stall.  Brendan Shanahan had just embarrassed her in front of some of the hockey world’s most important people and she deserved it.  She couldn’t believe she could be so fucking stupid and so dumb and callous and just such a…such an idiot.  And now here she was, crying about it in a bathroom stall.  She’d never be able to recover from this.  Brendan would think she was an idiot until the day she died.  He’d die before her and in heaven he’d still think her an idiot.

She stayed in the bathroom stall for a while, crying it all out and eventually stopping because she had no more energy to cry.  She opened the stall door and looked at herself in the mirror, trying to wipe away the tears.  Her eyes were red and of course, her cheeks were stained with tears, but she was thankful that she wore waterproof mascara that day.  She tried to collect herself, even though she had just made a complete ass of herself.  She still had a full day of work to do.  She still had to make it until 5pm.  Somehow.  

When there was nothing more she could do to fix her appearance, she sighed and decided to head back to her desk, ready to face whatever punishment Brendan was going to give her when he got out of the meeting.  There was nothing more she could say or do.  She swung open the door to the washroom and stepped out into the hallway.  

Although when she did, she crashed into a body.  When she looked up, it was, of course, none other than William Nylander.  Because her day couldn’t get any better from here.  “Hey,” he said, smiling at her.  

“What do you need?” she asked, not bothering to greet him.

He noticed the tone of her voice and the redness of her eyes and immediately changed his demeanour.  “What’s wrong?”

She side-eyed him.  As if he cared.  “I just made a complete ass of myself in front of Brendan.  No biggie,” she huffed.  

“Did you get a coffee order wrong or something?”

Now she really side eyed him.  She understood the stereotype of personal assistants, but this was not the time to start making jokes and devaluing her job.  “What do you want?  Why are you even in the offices?” she asked.  

He shrugged his shoulders.  “I wanted to see you.”

She scoffed.  “Oh, get a life, William.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know why you feel the need to keep taunting me when we’re on the job, but it needs to stop,” she said.  “Don’t you have drills to go through?  Don’t you like, I don’t know, need to tape a stick?”

It was his turn to give her a look.  “Hey, don’t be mad at me just because you screwed up at your job today.  I came up here to see you because I wanted to see you.  I’m trying to be nice.”

“Taunting me at my job isn’t being nice,” she said.  “If you can’t tell, I’m not having a good day.  So I’d appreciate it if you just…wouldn’t.”

“Whatever you did can’t be worse than sleeping with a Maple Leaf and then working for his boss,” William retorted.  

Okay, now she was angry.  She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the small kitchen – the one she’d retreated to when she walked in on them in their underwear – and shut the door behind them so they could have a private conversation.  “Listen to me,” she began, her voice as steady and as intimidating as it could be.  “I know I’m not saving the world or anything, but this job means a lot to me.  This isn’t a fucking game to me like it is to you.  This is my life.  This is my livelihood.  This is my career prospects in any industry in Toronto if I do a good job here.  And you, William Nylander, are not going to take that away from me.”

“I’m not trying to take that away from you,” William declared.  “Don’t you think that if I didn’t want you here, I would have told the guys or told Brendan already?”

Aberdeen thought back to the conversation she’d had with her sister, where she brought up the exact same point.  She shook her head.  “Then stop with the comments.  Stop with the ‘coming to see me’, flirting in front of your teammates, and the flirting in general.”

“I can’t do that,” he responded.  

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because I want you.”

The words hung in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time as William and Aberdeen stared at each other, his blue eyes piercing her hazel ones.  Her jaw dropped at his words, and she tried to respond but she couldn’t think of anything to say.  There was nothing to say.  He just dropped a bombshell and she had no way to recover.  He wanted her.  He wanted her.  He…wanted her?  “W…What?”

William didn’t respond.  He only smiled.  He didn’t say anything else as he left those words with her, opening the door and leaving the kitchen, leaving her completely dumbfounded.  

***

Later on that night, as Aberdeen was walking back to her condo after the day’s work (and not seeing Brendan again – probably for the best, since she was going to write out and rehearse her apology she’d tell him tomorrow if she didn’t get a call that she’d been fired tonight), her phone buzzed in her pocket.  She assumed that it would be Kasha, wanting to know what they were going to do for dinner.  But when she looked at her screen, it was an unknown number that texted her.

i promise im not going to tell anybody. im not going to tell any of the guys, or kyle, or brendan, or anyone what happened in june. that stays between us.

im not that guy.  i wouldn’t do that to you.

She stopped dead in her tracks.  A pedestrian behind her almost crashed into her and yelled at her to watch where she was going.  She collected herself and moved off to the side so people could pass by her and she could read the texts over and over and over again.  She didn’t even want to know how he got her number.  She didn’t want to know what covert operation he pulled.  

She gulped.

***

October 1st, 2019

Aberdeen was impatient in the backseat of the town car as she and Lou waited for Brendan to appear.  Her leg was bobbing up and down and she was pretty sure she would have chipped all her nail polish off by now if it wasn’t shellac.  She had written out and rehearsed her apology to him and knew exactly how she was going to deliver it.  She knew she had to makes things right.

“Miss Bloom,” Lou said from the driver’s seat, looking at her through the rear-view mirror like he often did.  “Nervous energy.”

“I’m sorry Lou,” she apologized, trying not to bob her leg.  “I just need to say something to Mr. Shanahan.”

“Something bad?”

“How many apologies have you heard in this car?” she asked.

Lou chuckled.  “Many, Miss Bloom.”

“How does he react to them?”

Lou shrugged.  “Depends.”

She gulped.  As if on cue, Brendan emerged from his house.  Lou got out of the car to open the door for him.  

“Good morning, Aberdeen,” he said, his voice cheery as he got into the backseat.  He already had a stack of newspapers with him.  He was acting as if nothing was wrong.  “How are you this morning?”

“I’m…good,” she replied, confused.  She decided she should just get right into it.  “Mr. Shanahan, can I speak to you about something?”

“Brendan,” he corrected her like he always did.  He was focused on the newspaper in front of him.  “And yes, Aberdeen, you may.”

“Can you look at me?”

That caught his attention.  He lowered the newspaper and took off his glasses, waiting for her to begin.  She took a deep breath.  “I want to sincerely apologize for my comments yesterday in the meeting,” she began.  “It was really insensitive of me to scoff, and then to make that comment – just really callous, and I want to apologize.  I don’t want you thinking that this job means nothing to me, because it does.  It means the world—”

“Aberdeen,” Brendan interrupted her, holding up his hand.  She stopped talking, and could tell he was thinking of what to say.  “First of all, thank you for your apology,” he began.  “What I said to you in that room, in front of everybody – I just wanted to make sure you know the importance of the work we do here.”

“I do.  I mean – I do now.”

“Hockey in Toronto is not just hockey,” he began.  “It’s a living, breathing entity in and of itself.  The sooner you realize that, the sooner you will see the importance of not just my work, or the work of anybody else that was in the room that day, but of your work too.  You are part of the Toronto Maple Leafs now, Aberdeen, whether you like it or not.  You have a role to play here in the success of the team just like anybody else.  Just because you’re an executive assistant, it doesn’t mean you don’t.”

“Yes sir,” she nodded her head.  

“I know you have a steep learning curve to go through.  I knew that when I hired you.  You’ll go through it.  And you’ll make a hell of a lot of mistakes along the way.  But you’ll go through it.  And you’ll come out better.  With more knowledge.  Understood?”

“Yes sir.  Absolutely,” she nodded her head.  Brendan sent her a quick smile before putting his glasses back on and focusing on the newspaper again.  “So…I guess this means I’m not fired?” she asked, just for reassurance.

That actually got a laugh out of Brendan.  “No, Aberdeen.  I could never fire an Etobicoke girl.”

***

October 2nd 2019

The season opener was just pure insanity.  There was no other way Aberdeen could rephrase it besides that – just pure insanity.  Brendan had meetings, she had to coordinate this, she had to run for coffees, she had to go get notes from someone, the phone was ringing off the hook…Lou even had to take her in the town car up to Yorkville, to Prada and to Gucci and to Hermes, so she could pick up ties for him to wear once all the media came rushing in.  It was a complete shit show.  She barely had time to eat, drink, or even think because she was so busy trying to get everything done.  

But something happened to her once she and Brendan made their way up to the media gondola to sit in the President’s private box with Kyle Dubas and Brandon Pridham: she watched the game.  From start to finish, she watched the Toronto Maple Leafs dominate the Ottawa Senators 5-3 to win the game.  She saw Auston Matthews score two goals – and William assist beautifully on one of them.  It was textbook perfect.  She saw the comradery of the boys on the bench.  She saw Brendan and Kyle seem excited.  

She remembered back to how excited the people of Newfoundland were at just a practice and an exhibition game.  She saw how excited the crowd was tonight at the way the team played and the outcome of the game.  

She began to get it.

She followed Brendan out of the gondola so they could head down to the locker room about five minutes before the game was going to end.  When the team began to come in, she wondered if she should clap – her questions were answered when she saw the equipment personnel fist-bump the boys.  She held out her hand to show her support.  Brendan laughed.

“Wooooo!  Let’s go baby!” Auston screamed as he looked directly at her, fist-bumping her with his enormously large hockey glove.  In that moment, she was sure one of them was going to knock her over one day.

“Good job boys!” she yelled out as they trickled in.  John was next, giving her a fist-bump and a quick nod.  

Morgan saw her and screamed at her.  “Wooooo!”

“Wooooo!” she mimicked, smiling from ear to ear as she fist-bumped him.  She held her hand out for Andreas, for Kasperi, and for Sandin.  William filtered through, and when she caught his eye, a large smile appeared on his face.  “Good job boys!” she yelled out again as they fist-pumped.

As they boys filtered into the locker room and began to take off their gear, Brendan walked in, motioning for Aberdeen to follow him.  She stood behind him and Kyle Dubas as they watched Mike Babcock make his post-game speech and present the team with one of the Raptors’ game used balls from their championship run.  One player would get it after every game won.  Auston got it tonight for scoring two goals, and he did a few tricks.  

Aberdeen helped usher Mike into a separate room so he could do post-game media before they went into the locker room.  She watched as a horde of reporters stuck microphones into his face and asked him questions about the game.  When Brendan called her back into the locker room, he told her he was free to go.  

She looked up at one of the TV monitors that was broadcasting Mike’s interview from the other room live, wanting to hear what good things he had to say before she left.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw William approach her, the bottom half of his gear still on, chucking something into the garbage.  He stood beside her, looking up at the monitor too to listen in.

“Can you speak to Matthews’s goals tonight?  The assist from Nylander must have looked good on your end,” one of the reporters asked.

“Yeah, the goals were good.  Looked really good.  The assist looked better than the one’s from last season, that’s for sure – he’s clearly been practicing,” Mike began.

Aberdeen didn’t hear anything else he had to say as she furrowed her brows.  She knew that she didn’t know anything about hockey, but she thought the team played fantastic tonight.  They won, for heaven’s sake.  If she was a casual viewer and thought they played well, and that William’s assist on Auston’s goal looked incredible, that had to speak for something, right?  A person who wasn’t even a fan being impressed?  She didn’t know.  But when she looked over at William, she saw a defeated look on his face.  He clearly took the comments to heart, and it killed her to see his excitement die down over a stupid comment.

“Does he always give you backhanded compliments?” she asked quietly, looking at him.  

William noticed her looking, and gave her one of those tight-lipped smiles as he shrugged his shoulders.  “Don’t worry about it.  I’m used to it.”

Aberdeen didn’t like that answer.