#i finished the show a few hours ago and i'm bitter about so much things lmao
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hyperactivewhore · 3 months ago
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As cute Bonnie and Enzo are sometimes, why does no one outside Bonnie stans ever talk about how rushed and poorly developed they are.
They are adorable, though mostly only in the last season, and I like the fact that Bonnie was finally able to have an stable relationship where the guy respected her and didn't fuck ghosts, but my god they had no development as to how they got together and if I'm honest, only Bonnie seemed interested in him prior dating.
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chronosh0t · 7 months ago
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon-divergence ; Lee's pov ; sfw ; slightly angst. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 〔 NO BETA 〕
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: what if Lee got stuck in a loop? it's based on this tweet I posted weeks ago.
〔 if you like what I write or my edits, consider tip me on ko-fi. you'd help me a lot by donating me. thank you lots 〕
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It has been so long, too long to count. Nonstop fighting for an end that is far from near, for a thin lay of hope that may or may not come out of the cruelty of reality. The light it's too dim, the air is too heavy, toxic and corrupted, no matter how deep every breath is, it never makes him feel better, less relaxed. Less lonely.
His hands are tired, his legs are having a hard time trying to keep up and his M.I.N.D is completely numb over time. Losing sense, and every single moment that peace seems to greet him, it flies past him as fast as one of his bullets. Breaking him in the silence of rejection, in the middle of the tower where escaping is not an option. For how long will this keep going? He does not know. And, to be fair, he doesn't want to know either. The crushing weight of having a clock ticking, counting what's left and what's yet to come, is not pleasant.
So he opted to ignore it. He made the decision, that day, to do the job only he was able to do. Because that was his sole purpose, at least for now, as much as he wished to change this twisted fate, it wouldn't be fair for those outside. If he was the only one capable, then so be it. Sacrifices must always be done. Be it time, or his own life. Just for the illusion that outside everyone is safe. He will stand over and over, shoot his gun, kill whoever or whatever gets in his way, for a slim chance.
There are short moments when everything is quiet, when not a single cry from despair could be heard, except for his erratic breathing, his feet dragging him to the stairs to finally take a seat after hours of battles and the loud noise of his weapon against the floor. He closes his eyes for a few seconds before taking a small device to call them. He just wants to have a few minutes to talk. Hoping. Wishing.
The call makes it through, and two faces greet him, smiling happily. The girl in red breaks the silence first.
ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while, Lee.” she stops, as if pondering if it's plausible to ask about his condition when it's obvious. “How are things on your side?”
ㅤㅤㅤ“Nothing new. The fights are endlessly annoying but, it's fine. I'm fine.” His voice cracks at the end, how terrible he has been at lying lately, or maybe he is too tired to pretend. Lee knows his teammates are aware of his state.
ㅤㅤㅤ“Lee…” the soft voice from Liv seemed to echo inside the tower, he nods and smile, “I know it's useless to say but, do please take care of yourself. I also know you're capable but.. We are worried about you. Especially Commandant.”She finished, her pink eyes showing great concern.
ㅤㅤㅤ“Commandant is a bit busy now. We would've called him but I know you have your ways.” Lucia explained, a chuckle escaped from her mouth.
Lee laughs at that. Indeed, he has his ways to contact his Commandant. “Thank you, I really mean it.” He finally spoke, the bitterness can be tasted, smelled and felt. Too heavy. “My time is running out. When I get another break, I will try to contact you guys again. Please take care.” He smiles again, and ends the call.
There's never a “goodbye”. Because he doesn't want to think about an end. As much as he is tired and his frame is at its limit on par with his M.I.N.D slowly losing complete focus from time to time, more often than not, Lee would reject the idea of a last call with his friends. That won't happen. He refuses to let that be part of his reality.
More often than not, he finds himself considering giving up and leaving, letting the wheel of destiny decide his punishment but there's something, someone, that keeps him from doing so. Or more like a “possible future”. Where there's no one, when the person he has come to cherish a little bit too much is no longer by his side, where his teammates are no longer walking with him but just a name in a marble stone. That was scary enough for him. The weight it's too much again.
His break is about to end. Taking a deep breath, he takes his device and taps a message and presses the send button, with the same address. For the same person. With the same words. He can feel an insufferable pain packing up inside his chest, filling the space between his ribs, crushing his artificial heart. He is shaking. His eyes are burning and tears are building up, but it's not the time.
It has never been. It probably never will.
He stands up, weapon in his hands. Time is running and it will never stop, no matter how many times he goes back, no matter how much he wishes and hopes, because time has never cared for that. So, for now, he just needs to keep going, and maybe one day, time will stop for him and he will be able to go back home. Go back to his friends. To his Commandant and be part of Gray Raven again.
…………
The digital screen beeps at the new message. He knows who sent it, and it's the reason he is also a bit reluctant to open it. He is always afraid it will be the last. His fingers trace the screen before lightly pressing over the email icon. A small text shows up, saying:
ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while. I know Liv and Lucia are there to take care of you, but I've got to know you enough to understand you're a magnet for troubles. So, don't do anything stupid.
ㅤㅤㅤ I don't have much time, there's nothing new. I am doing as fine as I can, you don't need to worry (I know you will, but don't let my situation distract you from your job, Commandant).
ㅤㅤㅤ ………… I miss you. I miss you a lot. It even hurts a bit sometimes. But I'm always hoping. Hoping that one day I will be by your side again, seeing you smile, holding your hand. I miss your warmth. The idea of going back to you, to Gray Raven keeps me going.
ㅤㅤㅤ I have to go. See you next time.”
And without knowing, despite the distance between them, tears were shed at the same time. Because time was the only thing connecting them.
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teejaystumbles · 2 years ago
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1889 drabble part three
Part 1 + Part 2 + on AO3
Hob's hidden stash is apparently not easily accessible, even for him. Dream wonders if he should offer his assistance when Hob curses under his breath for the fourth time as he's trying and failing to pull something out of a narrow hole in a harbour wall near Limehouse.
"God's fucking wounds, come on... I'll get you, you slimy, slippery little bugger - ha!"
Triumphantly he raises a small package into the air. It's wrapped in oilskin and smells strongly of rotten fish. Dream wrinkles his nose but Hob seems unbothered. With a grin he unwraps the package and pulls out a small wooden box. In it lies an iron key. Dream raises an eyebrow.
"A key?"
"Yes. For a storage unit I bought two decades ago. I was careful not to have my name or even any of my old names show up on any of the contracts, because it's meant for exactly this kind of emergency - in the case of someone connecting too many dots. Burgess should not have been able to trace this back to me."
"How much did he uncover about you?" Dream asks. Hob frowns. "Too much. I was too careless in covering my tracks. The names were probably the sloppiest but I can't bring myself to go around as Martin or, or John, or something. There's too little consistency in my life, I can't give up the one thing that...well. I can't give up my name."
He looks frustrated and sad and Dream has no idea what to say.
"Roderick Burgess will not trouble you again." he says, in hopes of alleviating some of Hob's fear. The man looks up at him. Dream thinks that he likes being taller than Hob. He likes to have him look up at him like this, with fondness and something like wonder, with trust. He wants to make Hob feel safe. It's the least he can offer after two months of nightmares.
"What exactly did you do to him? It looked like what you did to Lady Johanna."
"Lady Johanna Constantine awoke a few hours after we left. Roderick Burgess will not wake." he says with finality.
Hob looks surprised. "Never?"
"Not until he dies."
Hob exhales harshly and rubs his chin. "Christ. I'm glad you like me." He startles and blushes, waving his hands wildly. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to imply..."
"I do."
"What?"
"I do like you, Hob. I do not make a habit of meeting people I don't like on the regular. Well, except for political reasons."
Hob's cheeks are flaming and Dream feels himself flush a bit at the sight. He feels bitter, though, and obligated to add:
"It is not something that would shield you from my wrath, though."
Hob looks confused now, nervously twirling the key between his fingers while they slowly start walking again, falling into step beside each other. The hour is late and the docks are empty. Dream keeps an eye on the shadows all the same.
"What do you mean?"
Dream looks away. "I have been known to be cruel... to the people I... care for." he says quietly. "As I have been cruel to you."
"You haven't!" Hob seems genuinely bewildered at his words. Dream frowns and stops walking, stepping into Hob's way. "Hob. I could have saved you a month ago. I could have saved you the first night you had a nightmare under Burgess' roof. I could have stayed and finished our meeting and you would never have been taken! I did not. You would not call that cruel?"
Hob shakes his head. "Burgess was already onto me, me shouting about a hundred years in the road only finally made him act. That's not on you. As for saving me..."
He gulps and looks away from Dream. "I hurt you. I understand that you needed time to forgive me."
Dream is at a loss for words again. He reaches out and touches Hob's shoulder. The man shivers and looks back up. "Hob."
"No, I know, I hurt your pride, and I'm sorry for misjudging the situation. But you were so... relaxed, and you were smiling, like you genuinely enjoyed my company, and I thought..."
He takes a breath. "...we were on the same page. And I was proud and foolish and wanted to hear you say it. I'm sorry."
Dream grips his shoulder tighter and something sparks in Hob's eyes, trepidation, a hint of worry. Dream hates that look.
"Stop apologizing. You already did. It is forgiven. And yes. I do enjoy your company."
He starts walking again, relieved to hear Hob following close behind after a bare second, a new spring in his step.
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sysba · 2 years ago
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cal x edith - first kiss
[cal belongs to @night-triumphantt ] wc: 1.2k a/n: this week had valentine's day and ockissweek and well, i'm equally bad at both but i drabbled caledith first kiss for my and judie's eyes lol there's 2 parts before this because they literally take like a year just to confess i hate them sm anyway enjoy void i'm not gonna proof read shit
“Christ, I’m beat.”
Edith winces when her back hits the counter. The shop looks nothing better than it did a few hours ago; knocked-over boxes of music records everywhere, papers and books all over the floor, and the clock marking 11PM as she sighs.
From his less-than-comfortable seat on that same floor, close as he can be without letting his knee touch hers, Cal smiles at her. 
“I can finish this up. Maybe you can get some sleep upstairs?” 
‘Should’, ‘could’, ‘maybe’... Cal somehow mastered the art of caring for Edith without ever telling her what to do. It works, most of the time. 
But this time he’s not even done talking and she’s already objecting, so he rushes to add, “I don’t mind! Really. It’s been a busy day, and you haven’t stopped for a moment.”
Neither has he, but it doesn’t seem to matter much. Edith shakes her head almost too fondly, a little scoff of amusement leaving her lips before she takes a swig of her drink (an abominable mix of tequila and Kahlúa with far too much of the latter to be called appealing).
She seems to consider something for a moment, eyes narrowing just barely as she nibbles on the inside of her cheek. 
“Maybe we should just leave it. Close the shop for a day or something.” She says it nonchalantly but frowns once she notices the odd look on Cal’s face, who’s staring at her with a mix of concern and confusion and a secret third thing. “What?”
“Nothing,” he replies a bit too quickly, a deer in the headlights stumbling on his words, “I, uh… You never take a day off, it took me off guard.”
He’s mumbling, but his low voice reaches her anyways because she clicks her tongue at him in mock offence– Cal doesn’t even notice, too distracted by the playful smile that follows.
“Yeah, well,” Edith nods towards the mess surrounding them with something like resignation. “All things considered, we might deserve a break.”
Cal huffs a small laugh at that, but neither of them shows any sign of wanting to get up. It takes him a moment before he goes back to his task, patiently sorting through a bunch of vinyl. 
Edith makes no move to stop him, apparently too engrossed in her drink. He thinks her cheeks are a bit darker, but whether it’s the alcohol or a trick of the dim lights he’s not quite sure.
There’s a comfortable silence lulling them, the first they’ve had in a while; they haven’t really been able to share a space like this lately, not without a pervading sense of awkwardness making either of them run away at the first occasion.
In fact, they’ve barely ever been alone for more than a couple minutes for the past few months. Not ever since–
Hoping Edith won’t notice, Cal subtly shakes his head to try and banish the memory of their last real conversation. It doesn’t work, it never has. 
‘You love me.’ Her accusation rings loud in his mind even months later, still vicious, still true. 
He can still taste that same bitter desperation he felt as she walked away that time. The metallic taste of it sits on his tongue, and he can’t seem to swallow it down, so much so that he almost begs her to stay once again.
He looks at Edith once more. Her eyes are closed now, head tilted back to rest against the counter, offering the full sharp curve of her neck to him; it’s odd, seeing her so vulnerable. Like a nerve exposed, a jugular eagerly pressed to a blade. There’s something almost sacrificial about it, and it’s gratifying.  
Cal can see every detail of her even in this dimness, from the waves of her hair meeting her broad shoulders to the long shadows of her lashes on her cheeks (and what he can’t see he can make from memory, like the faint freckles on the tip of her nose and the ever-present cracks on her lips).
Her chest rises and falls quietly, rhythmically. The sight is so peaceful that when she speaks it takes him a moment to register she’s awake. 
“Edith?”
The corners of her lips curl a bit.
“I wanted to say it back,” she mutters again, and this time he catches it. Her eyes are open now, but she doesn’t look at him. Not yet. 
“That day, after you…” she lets the sentence hang in the air, gesturing vaguely. 
After he almost said it. Not that she needs to explain that, of course. It’s wonderfully, cruelly poetic how she brings it up now, in the very same room.
“I thought about saying it, but then I got– scared, I guess.” 
She grimaces as she says it, teeth clenching around the ‘scared’ as if admitting it is physically painful. Cal swallows hard.
“Scared of what?” He whispers because somehow, somehow he knows anything louder would be a mistake.
“You.” 
The single word is a knife to his lungs, it knocks the air out of him and has him bleed the unspoken. She smiles again, sickeningly sweet, all glossy eyes and heated cheeks. 
“You scare me the most, y’know.”
He’s sorry. It hurts.
“I’m sorry, I–”
“I’m scared whenever I see you. ‘Cause I look at you and I’m just, ‘Shit, I’d do anything for you!’ And I’m pretty fucking sure I actually would, which is… Terrifying.” Her words come out in an almost sleepy chuckle, slurred and rushed and self-loathing. “Scares me whenever you leave, too, because then I’m always waiting for you to come back. ‘S a bit pathetic, really.” 
She’s finally looking at him. Was her gaze always this warm?
“I know what it means, now. You looking at me like that.”
I’ve been looking at you like this the whole time.
Even when she didn’t look back.
Cal’s heartbeat is so loud he can barely think, barely breathe. But he asks anyway. 
“What?”
He doesn’t understand what’s happening until her lips are ghosting over his (when did she lean in?) and he thinks he’s stopped breathing altogether. She tastes like sugar and coffee and a little bit like blood, and she kisses him as if she’s done so hundreds of times before.
Practised, familiar, with her thumb stroking his cheek and his hand clinging to her t-shirt. How she always cares for him out of habit, and how he chases her without even realising it– they kiss in that same way, like they’re saying both hello and goodbye.
Edith’s palms feel searing against his jaw, but she’s smiling, and Cal thinks he’d burn painlessly if they actually were.
“You love me.” 
It’s not an accusation anymore. 
I love you, does that scare you, too? I love you I love you I love you–
“I love you,” she says it before he can, and he looks so bewildered that she laughs. “That okay with you? You’ve gone real quiet on me.”
“You, ah… I–” He tries once, twice, and then a few times more till he can knit the three words together. “You love me?”
She hums, looking serene and maybe a bit drowsy.
“Quite so.”
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Hiiiii !!!
How are you? ^^
I just saw your post from a few months ago ( this one https://at.tumblr.com/a-small-tired-lonely-potato/hi-ive-seen-some-of-your-posts-about-mairuma-and/6c7a5uv63rvk) and since you said that we could ask you about your opinions of different characters I wanted to ask, what do you think of Balam ?
I only watch the anime so I'm not up to date with the manga but I really like him, he's adorable and seems like a really good teacher too !!!!
Balam Shichiro is my favorite Bird Teacher.
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He is one of my favorite characters in the entire show! And I would adore sharing my thoughts on him.
(note, sorry to all for my absence, Christmas time was chaotic and my batteries were hella drained, even doing things I liked doing took waaay to much outta me, hopefully when I finish moving in my mojo will come back)
When Balam first showed up, like when we first meet him in class, I thought he'd only be a teacher with a couple odd quirks that the gremlin side of the fandom would froth at the mouth for.
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I wasn't entirely wrong about that, but I was wrong about him being only that.
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"I showed everyone your wings, not out of malice but it still probably sucked showing people something you might be embarrassed about, and I'm sorry, so you can see something I'm embarrassed about so we can call it even." I thought that was a very sweet gesture to give someone, because Iruma was worried about showing his back, not in the way Balam was thinking but still.
It was just such pure kindness, then we got Iruma's sudden confession after being shocked by that kindness and Balam's reaction just sealed my love for him immediately.
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At first his excitement gets the best of him, I mean if I spent my whole life hearing that the study I was invested in wasn't even real and that I was crazy for spending so much time on it, only to have living, breathing, Talking Proof! I might get overexcited and almost pass out too.
And then he immediately turns on his teacher switch, realizing that Iruma was in incredible danger and had no way to defend himself if the truth came out to someone who shouldn't know and he should be keeping his humaness a SECRET and that Dumb Naive Boy just up and decided to out himself!!! For What??!? TEA!? KINDNESS!?!
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And ends up chastising the boy for hours
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And you know what? I'd do that too, That confession scene gave me a heart attack Iruma, what in Delkira's name were you thinking?! Thank God you stumbled upon the ONE demon who wouldn't immediately eat your dumbass.
And after that my love does nothing but grow every time we meet, he has such pure honest dad energy
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I adore his vibes.
The first thing he does is make sure no one else knows so he can guarantee Iruma's safety, for no other reason then Iruma is his student and is an endangered precious species and he has a responsibility to keep the boy safe and help him grow.
He makes picture books for Iruma when he hears he's having problems with studying so he can make sure he has the knowledge to survive the demon realm, and from there on becomes Iruma's closest ally and confidant, at least in Bablys.
He can't tell any of his friends or his other teachers about him being a human, and while Grandpa Sully is sweet he can't always be there for Iruma, neither can Opera. So Balam becomes his de-facto guardian, and then also becomes someone he can talk to when he's unsure.
And while I loved him in the Walter Park Arc my favorite moment of him comes much later.
There are spoilers ahead so I'm gonna make a block in orange so you can skip if you dont wanna get spoiled for it.
~~~~~~~~DONT READ! HERE BE SPOILERS!~~~~~~~~~~
So after the HeartBreaker exam Balam calls Iruma to his office to give him a full check up (He's probably become his doctor since he's the closest thing the demon realm has to a human expert now that i think about it) and after checking up on him he drops some bitter truth on our boy.
He brings up the attack by one of the teachers, and that even though two other students were attacked with one being injured, the teacher was primarily searching for and targeting Iruma.
He brings up that the teacher more likely then not, has figured out that Iruma was a human, and he gives Iruma two options going forward. Either seek out the Border Patrol to send him back home to the human realm, or stay by Sulivan's side under lock and key for the rest of his lifespan.
Iruma, when faced with two options he doesn't like, does what he usually does, and makes his own option. He decides to devote himself to getting stronger so he can stay with his friends and be safe.
Balam then admits it was a test of Iruma's conviction, and to make sure he understood the danger he was in.
And it just melted my heart, because he truly cared about Iruma at that moment, and wanted him to be safe, but also wanted him to follow the path he wants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END OF SPOILERS!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Other then that, his relationship with Kalego as being each other Best Tolerants (I fully believe Kalego would die before he admits to caring) gives me life, and I love how different their relationships with Opera are!
The one problem I have with Balam isn't even with Balam himself, It's with Sullivan, Because Balam's Bloodline Magic is BUZZER, A lie Detector Magic. Didn't think maybe Iruma might've wanted a warning about the One Demon who could for SURE out him?!? No heads up on that??? Thanks For Nothing you useless Grandpa.
Balam's protective nature and kind demeanor coupled with his immense power and frighting appearance reminds me of my Father, Whom every single person we meet is terrified of because he's 6 feet of pure muscle and his resting face looks like death, but he's really just a big teddy bear! Anything that reminds me of Dad is great to see in manga because usually dads in anime and manga suck so Balam gets all the love points!!
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Very Dad Behavior, well done.
I love his closeness with Sabnock and Azz-Azz when he becomes their personal tutor in the Forest arc, he really shows how much he cares about his students. He just wants the best for them.
And yeah! I just adore our Bird Teacher, he's the best and can do no wrong. We stan a King.
Thank you for the ask! I love blabbing about WTDSIK and am hoping to get back in the saddle on answers! Love that people are enjoying my incessant long ramblings!
Peace out Babes!
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johnsamericano · 3 years ago
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𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •2•
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Hi hi! I'm back with another chapter. This one might not be as good(?, it's a really fluffy chapter so bear with me.
warnings: sugar daddy jae, he's a big baby, tooth rotting, kinda long.
sugar rush m.list.
taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato
“Sir, there’s a girl asking to see you.”
“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.
“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.
“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.
“Let her in.”
Only a few seconds later, your head was peeking through his door.
“I brought you coffee.” You extended your hand out, showing him the carton containing two iced drinks. “Are you busy?”
“Not at all, come in.” You sat on the elegant, individual sofa in front of him, his desk serving as a separation. “Are you here to spy on me? Don't you trust me with your father's case?” He pouted, typing something in his keyboard while your palms started sweating.
How could you not trust the man with the highest case winning index in the whole country?
Briefly, after your encounter with the other lawyer, you'd googled him as well as his company. Because of his incredibly high fees, he didn't have many clients, but those few who had enough money to cost him were almost assured to be on the winning side. So then, why hadn't an excellent lawyer like him popped up when you'd first looked for popular firms? Simple, he wasn't popular.
Just like a hidden gem, only a few had the pleasure to know Yoonoh, and you felt beyond grateful for paying that stupid membership weeks ago.
“No, no!” You were quick to defend yourself, frantically shaking your hands to support your previous statement. “Just wanted to be of help.”
Truth to be told, after receiving your first weekly allowance, an unsettling feeling had been squeezing your heart ever since. Call it guilt or whatever, but it didn't set right to be receiving si much help from him when you hadn't had the chance to do anything in return. The least you could do was trying to be polite.
“You shouldn't be spending your money on me. I'm the one supposed to spoil you, remember?” He grabbed the plastic container by the lid, sipping the bitter liquid with an amused smile. “But thank you.”
“I paid my rent yesterday.” You blurted out, trying to avoid the uncomfortable silence threatening to settle between the two of you. “And I still have money left to save for my father's hospital bills, maybe even buy a present for my aunt.”
He admired how noble you were, making sure those around you had enough before even thinking to do something for yourself.
“I have a party this Friday, would you like to attend with me?” Your presence wasn't required as it wasn't a big event, but by the look in your eyes, he knew you were itching to do something in return for his kindness.
“Yes, of course!” Your orbs sparkled with excitement, finally feeling yourself useful.
“If you don't mind waiting, we can go buy something for you to wear right after I finish with this.” For what seemed like the tenth time in less than ten minutes, small beads of sweat rolled down the back of your neck. Thank God he wasn't able to see them. “Oh, come on, don't give me that look!”
“You’ve already done so much for me. I can buy the clothes myself, don't worry.” With a deep sigh, Yoonoh rose from his chair, taking long strides to surround the desk separating you. “W-what are you doing?” Now kneeling on the floor beneath you, his face was dangerously close to yours, coffee breath crashing against your nose.
“Using mind control to convince you to let me take you out.” He stared at you for a couple more seconds before saying: “Is it working?”
“I think your mind control is broken.” You whisper, unable to hold back the small giggles bubbling at the back of your throat.
“How about now?” He batted his eyelashes, trying to act cute despite his bold features. You shook your head.
Just as you thought it was over, his hand went up to cup your jaw, his thumb drawing uneven figures on the ticklish skin.
“How about now?” He repeated. You stammered, unsure of what to say. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” Aware of your awkwardness and the rising heat in your cheeks, he stood up, walking back to his chair. “But I do want to get you something, would you let me?”
With your mind busy and your guard low, you nodded, unaware of the silly smile on his face.
“I have a few novels on my shelf in case you want something to kill time.”
“Thank you.” You moved to the huge bookshelf facing his desk, grateful your face wasn't visible anymore.
The books were ordered by genre and size, starting from the biggest law-related textbooks to pocket-sized novels, ending with the smallest one he had. The little prince.
Your eyes widened in disbelief. Yoonoh didn't seem to be the type to read that kind of heartbreaking yet beautiful book. Nonetheless, as many said, you can't judge a book by its cover.
An hour or two later, you were halfway into the first book of flowers in the attic, immersed in the small world the author had created. Yoonoh had finished his work a few minutes before, but distracting you when you were reading so vividly, seemed like a crime. He enjoyed the way your eyebrows would knit together every time something shocking happened, clearly too immersed in the novel to notice his intense gaze.
“Y/n...” He whispered once he noticed you were starting a new chapter. You blinked twice, hands clutching the book tightly as you noticed he had finished his work. “You can take it home, don't worry.”
“Sure?” He flashed his pretty dimples as his eyes turned into half-moons.
“You can come back for the rest of the saga when you finish this one. Take as many books as you please, I’ve already read them all.”
“Thank you.” Another act of kindness you had no way of returning. His favors just seemed to be piling up before you could even return any. “Would you like to have dinner with me today? I'm a great cook, or so did my father said.” You blurted out quickly, twisting your hands nervously as you waited for an answer.
“I’d love to. But I might have to attend some work calls if you don't mind.”
“I don't, maybe I'll even have time to bake a cake while you're at it.” God, how bad he wanted to take a picture of that adorably nervous smile.
“Great, so it's settled. Dinner at your place after we go shopping.” He had already put his blazer on, offering his arm to guide you out. With shaky fingers and sweaty armpits, you grabbed it, walking by his side with his secretary’s gazed glued on you. So much for a girl, huh?
Once seated in his car, with the book resting on your lap, you allowed yourself to relax. Yoonoh wasn't a bad person, on the contrary, he was very kind, so there was no use in keeping your guard up when he was around.
“Ready to roll?” You cringed at his use of slang, making him drop his head back to laugh. “What? Isn't it a thing you cool young adults say?”
“Maybe twenty years ago, Yoonoh.” It was the very first time you used his name so informally, and, oh how good it felt to hear you saying it?
“Fine, I won't use it anymore.” He poked your arm like a little child, and for a moment, you wondered if he was actually more than a decade older.
Several bad jokes, two dresses, and a quick stop at the grocery store later, you arrived at your apartment. Yoonoh held everything while you entered the passcode, struggling not to drop a can of vegetables that was starting to bend the edge of the paper bag.
“Ready, hand me something.” You both entered with your hands packed with different things. You went to your room to leave the new dresses while Yoonoh set the paper bags down on the kitchen counter.
“So...” He clapped loudly. “What are we cooking?”
“I bought the ingredients for lasagna. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, lips pressed and dimples in display. “Alright, let's do this.”
It would've been of great help if Yoonoh had told you he didn't know how to cook. But of course, part of the fault was yours for not noticing when he tried to add ketchup to the recipe.
“I burnt it.” He looked at the semi-carbonized pasta with disgust, feeling ashamed of having ruined your dish. “Let’s just throw it away and order something.” He was about to touch the hot container until your grip on his wrist halted his movements.
“We just pulled it out of the oven.” You shook your head in disbelief at the man standing in front of you.
“Sorry.”
Despite Yoonoh’s endless complaining, you ate the lasagna. The flavor wasn't that bad when you scratched off the burnt parts, especially when accompanied by a cold glass of wine.
“It’s not that bad.” You repeated over and over again. A phone call interrupted him from self-pitying any further. “Go on, take it.” You continued eating while he spoke in the living room.
It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that you realized he was whisper yelling at whoever was on the other line. It was your first time seeing him angry, and you didn't like it one bit. The way his face turned completely stoic, his eyes cold as his hand rested on his hip. Sweet, caring, Yoonoh was gone.
“I told you I needed it for today.” He said through gritted teeth. “You better get it before I arrive back at the office, or you can find yourself another job.” Even after he hung up, Yoonoh stood in the middle of the shared area, clutching his phone so tightly, it seemed like it would break any minute.
You wanted to ask if everything was alright, if he needed any help, but most importantly, if the things he needed were related to your father's case, but all the words stuck to your throat like insects in a spider web.
“I need to go.” He simply said, not even bothering to fake a smile. “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you on Friday.” With his free hand, he grabbed the coat hanging from his chair and left, slamming the door on his way out.
Was that the real Yoonoh?
A shiver ran down your spine. What had you gotten into? From what you'd seen, it was only about time he would show his true self to you as well.
All the trust you'd built up during the day, had crumbled down in a matter of seconds. The worst part? You didn't even feel entitled to be scared, not after all he'd done for you.
‘Just keep your distance.’ You repeated like a mantra as you got ready for bed, leaving the book you'd borrowed right where he'd left it, afraid it would burn your fingertips even with the slightest touch.
(...)
The week wasn't nearly as long as you'd wanted it to be, and soon enough, you were struggling to zip the dress you'd bought days ago. Your makeup was done, and Yoonoh had texted you he was on his way, yet, you'd been fighting with the zipper for at least ten minutes. Your fingers were cramping, and the clock was ticking.
Just when you'd finally started to drag the small piece of metal, the doorbell startled you, causing you to let go of it.
“Fuck!” Have you ever felt so desperate that tears start pricking your eyes? Well, that was the exact case happening at the moment.
You opened the door with the salty water collecting at the corner of your eyes, surprising Yoonoh, who was wearing his best dimply smile.
“What’s wrong?” He had a bouquet poorly hidden behind his back, probably to apologize for the night he abruptly left and almost knocked down your door.
“I-I can't zip up my dress.” Your voice came out shaky, giving away the emotions burning your gut. Thankfully, Yoonoh didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mention it.
“I’ll help you.” He, not-so-discretely, put down the bouquet, gently turning you around to your discomfort. His cold hands touched your back as he dragged the zip up, noticing how tense you were but deciding not to comment on it. “Oh! You haven't moved the book from where I left it.”
“I haven't had time to read.” He hummed, crouching to reach for the bouquet and hand it to you. “Thank you.”
“It’s my way of apologizing for the fit I threw a couple of days ago.” A fit? That was one way to call it.
“It’s okay.” You lied as you pushed the corners of your lips to form a credible smile. “Let’s get going.”
The flowers were left on the kitchen counter before you left. The ride in the elevator was awfully quiet, and Yoonoh had no idea what had happened. You were so chatty the last time he saw you, so of course, he was taken aback by the sudden change.
“It’s not going to take long, so we can head out for some drinks later if you'd like...” You nodded, for you knew speaking would only expose your discomfort. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah! Just nervous about the party, that's all.”
You stood by Yoonoh’s side for the rest of the evening, smiling and nodding at his acquaintances’ comments. At one point in the evening, a man, not much older than you, approached you both with a wide smile.
“Dude, I hadn't seen you in ages. Stop sending your workers and come see me yourself.” They hugged. Why were they hugging?
“Y/n, this is my brother, Sungchan.” The man with puppy-like eyes embraced you tightly, almost as if welcoming you to his family. “Sungchan, this is y/n, my girlfriend.” He said it so naturally, it’d take a detective to figure out the truth about your relationship.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I'm sorry for your father. But don't worry, we'll take those bastards down.”
“I’m not following...” You blinked repeatedly, eyes going back and forth between Yoonoh and his brother.
“Sungchan is a doctor. I asked him to look at your father's case for further evidence. My assistant was supposed to pick up the report the day we had dinner, but she forgot to drop by. Now we’re a day behind schedule.” The dark cloud surrounding him seemed to be slowly dissipating as you heard his explanation. “This is an important case, and I want to be as meticulous as possible.”
Thank you didn't seem the right thing to say at the moment, at least not with Sungchan standing there, so you simply grabbed his hand, squeezing it to let him know how grateful you were.
To your surprise, he didn't even flinch as he locked your hands together, causing a small giggle from Sungchan.
“Okay, love birds, I'll get going.” He waved you goodbye, making his way to another table where his friend waited for him.
“Can we talk?” You whispered in his ear, afraid one of the numerous attendants would hear you.
“Sure.” Without letting go of your hand, he drove you to a small, private garden just outside the ballroom. “Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?” His thumb caressed your knuckles with gentle strokes.
“I’m so sorry.”
“What for?”
“I pushed you away at the minimum trouble when you were only helping me.” He hummed as if he already knew about it. “And it will probably happen again, so please, be patient with me. I'm going through-” Your face collided against his chest as his arms draped over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly.
“Call me reckless, but I've wanted to do this for a while.” Your hands hung at the sides of your torso, unsure what to do next. “You can push me away, I'll understand...”
Instead, your palm found its place in his back, rubbing up and down the designer jacket. Your hair started turning messy from the night breeze, some strands striking Yoonoh’s chin as his embrace only grew tighter.
“Let’s get out of here.” He mumbled, crawling the back of your head with his hand. “Sungchan can deal with my father's friends.”
“Are you sure?” His hum vibrated through his chest, making you giggle at the odd feeling.
Once seated in his car, his hand found yours like a magnet, the warmth emanating from it comfortably enveloping your skin.
The calmness of the atmosphere was interrupted by a call from his brother, who seemed to be anxiously explaining something through the phone.
“Just tell him I had a work emergency.” With that said, he hung up, placing his hand back again on top of yours. “Sorry, he said it was urgent.”
“It’s okay.” An unsettling feeling pinched your stomach, but you decided to dismiss it, immersed in the chilly weather of the dark streets.
You arrived at the river, where Yoonoh asked you to wait for him while he bought a couple of beers. It was a sight to see, both of you clad in fancy clothes, barefoot and chugging down can after can.
“I think I like being with you.” You declared, mind fuzzy from the alcohol intake.
“I think I like it too.” The tips of his ears were rosy, revealing he was as intoxicated as you, maybe even more.
“Would you like to visit my father with me tomorrow?” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even realize. Afraid you'd killed the mood, you tried to excuse yourself, only to be interrupted by his lips grazing your ear, placing a timid kiss on your lobe.
“I’d love to.” It was the sweetest peck, no ulterior motives behind it, just pure affection.
“Are we going too fast?” In your drunken state, what you had felt like a real relationship, not a simple agreement. And this sure felt like a first date.
“We’re moving at our own pace, I believe.” He dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing against it to relieve the dizziness clouding his mind. “Are you okay with that? Maybe you don't want to be with an old creep like me, and I'd totally get it. Just don't let me get my hopes up if that's the case.”
“You might be old, but definitely not a creep.” Your fingers combed through his abundant hair as your mind wandered into the future, grateful for the fact that he wouldn't become bald soon. “Or are you?”
“I don't think so.” Anyone who walked by would've seen a couple of goofs, too intoxicated to talk without slurring the words, but you were living in your own, comfy bubble. “I should get you home before it gets too late. Come on, I'll call a driver.” He tried getting on his feet to no avail, stumbling back a little before falling back on his ass.
“My apartment is nearby. You can stay for the night.” You grabbed both pairs of shoes as his arm surrounded your shoulder for assistance. “If you keep supporting your whole weight on me, we're both gonna fall.” People on the street shot you a couple of funny looks, which was understandable since it wasn't usual to see two drunk idiots walking barefoot in the middle of the night.
“How long till-” Hiccup. “-we get there?” His stare seemed to worsen with every step. “God, I think I might throw up.”
“Stop acting like a teenager, we're almost there.”
As soon as you arrived at the small apartment, you sat him down on the little step where you changed your shoes. You left both pairs on the rack, proceeding to put on slippers to enter the house.
“Don’t leave me here!” He whined, stomping his feet like a little kid.
“Just wait for a second!” His attitude was starting to get on your nerves to the point where you couldn't feel the effects of the beer anymore.
You grabbed a rag from the kitchen cabinet and dampened it under the sink. Yoonoh was half asleep when you walked back to him.
“My head hurts.” He mumbled as you sat in front of him, placing his left foot on your lap. “What are you doing?”
“I don't have any slippers that will fit you, and I don't want your dirty feet making my house dirty.” With utmost delicacy, you wiped away the dirt from his toes, noticing the small scratches caused by the gravel he walked on.
He touched your hair while you finished with his other foot, tangling the strands with fascination.
“Done, get up.”
He followed your indications as you guided him to your room, where you laid him down on his side in case he threw up.
“Are we visiting your father tomorrow?” He asked while snuggling under the covers.
“Sure.” You cleared his forehead from the strands falling in it, grazing the soft skin of his forehead. “Sweet dreams, gigantic baby.”
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issaxcharlie · 4 years ago
Text
Something so right
Pairing: Alive! Luke x Fem reader
Summary: A date with the golden boy of the school reveals Y/N’s and Luke's true feelings for each other and they have no choice but to face what they feel. Who will take the first step?
(The fragments of the song are from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift)
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Luke Patterson was more impatient than usual. 7:30 pm and no sign of his best friend, the one who had never missed a Sunset Curve rehearsal in these two years that they had been playing together.
“Am I the only one worried about Y/N? She is not usually late."
Reggie slaps his forehead, a memory snapping back into his head. "I forgot to tell you she won't be here today, she said something about a date."
The guitarist feels a punch in the stomach, he tries to hide how bitter the news fell on him, but his friends know him better than that.
“A date? With who?” Alex asks, genuinely curious.
“Austin Grayson.”
“Ugh, really Y/N?” But of course it had to be the school's golden boy. Luke can't help not feeling insecure. Austin Grayson is everything Luke Patterson isn't, and that scares him. What if that's what she's really looking for in a partner? He just wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Nice, he really has to like her to invited her despite what everyone says." Bobby responds as he takes advantage of the short break to rest his hands. Reggie and Alex nodding in agreement.
“What do they say?” Luke asks, completely lost.
“Oh please, most of the school thinks you guys are dating. There isn't a day that I don't hear someone call her Patterson’s girl." Alex replies, and Luke looks even more lost.
He can somehow understand why they would think that, he always enjoys having her and feeling her close. Usually touching her hand or arm in some way, hugging her whenever he sees fit. Carrying her books in the hallways or supporting her at her basketball games, just like she accompanies them to all the band's rehearsals and performances, or how she sometimes wears to school the clothes that he 'accidentally' leaves at her home when her mom invites him to dinner. On second thought, it’s easy to understand the confusion.
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You don’t know what is happening. Austin is sweet, handsome, smart, and yet you feel nothing. Forced yourself to laugh falsely all night, and couldn't help but think that it would have been more fun to join the boys in rehearsal, especially when they were only a few days away from Sunset Curve's first performance at school.
When you finally get home, you walk with your head on the floor, trying not to make eye contact with your date. Austin gently grabs your chin so you turn to see him.
A fake cough from behind causes you both to jump away from each other. You don't even have to turn to find out who owns that perfect timed cough.
“What are you doing here?” You refuse to turn around, but you know he's smirking anyway.
“It’s movie night, love.” You force one more smile towards Austin as you curse Luke under your breath, who emphasized the last word in that seductive deep voice he sometimes does when he sings and that secretly melts your legs.
“Patterson." Austin tries to get past the awkward moment by participating in the conversation, and Luke responds by approaching and placing his arm on your shoulder.
"Grayson. Thank you for bringing her safe and sound." He sounds sincere, and that makes you smile for real for the first time of the night.
“It was nothing... I should go. Goodnight Y/N, I had a great time.”
Luke lowers his arm from your shoulder and leans back, ashamed of his rare moment of insecurity and letting you say goodbye to the boy.
As soon as he leaves, you turn to see your best friend, who looks sadly at the ground, and you hug him tightly.
Luke has been through very difficult months, and it is easy for someone who is vulnerable to feel insecure, especially in situations new to them. Not to mention that you are definitely not going to fight with the person you love for putting his arm on your shoulder or calling you in an affectionate way, which are things that he usually does, guy in your doorstep or not. You decide that he showing a little jealousy for once is not the end of the world.
“I missed you so much, rockstar.” You murmur still against his chest, your statement only makes him hold you tighter. You can't help but think about how just hugging him for a few seconds makes you so much happier than the whole date you just had.
“I’m sorry for making a scene. No wonder everyone thinks we are dating.“
“I don’t mind. I couldn't wear your cool flannels or your necklaces if I was dating someone. Plus it would take away valuable time that I can use as the president of the Sunset Curve fan club.” He chuckles. You can feel his body relax and his heartbeat begins to calm down. He gives you a sweet kiss in your hair before letting you go.
Best friends walk into the house, and as Y/N goes to change into something more comfortable Luke sits at the kitchen counter to chat with his second female best friend.
"You have to do something quick, I don't want to have you here crying and eating ice cream while she's on some date with some graceless snob.”
The guitarist can't help but laugh. Y/N's mom has always been a music lover and one of his greatest inspirations. She gave him his first guitar and taught him how to play, always supporting him in each of his steps as a musician. She has always loved him like a son, believing in him with all her might and always blindly entrusting him with what she loves most in the world, her daughter Y/N.
“I know, I will I promise. What I felt today when I saw Grayson touch her face and so close to her lips... I never want to experience that again. I was thinking maybe at homecoming? Sunset Curve is going to perform.”
She wrinkles her nose in response and Luke laughs again.
"Yeah too much information, I’m sorry. And I know, but we have to start somewhere. As soon as we get booked at a good enough club you'll be the first guest.”
They both make a pinky promise and smile.
“I’ll make you proud someday. I swear.”
“I’m always proud of you, my sweet boy. I know you’ll do amazing things, just take good care of my princess during tours.”
“You know I will.” They pinky promise again and reunite with Y/N in the living room to watch movies til the teens fall asleep cuddling.
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Homecoming day arrived and you don’t have a partner. It is not hard to imagine why, being surrounded by at least one of the Sunset Curve members 24/7, especially Luke who tries to be close to you as much as possible, as if he is afraid that you will forget him if you spend too much time separated. Which is actually something you like, if you are honest with yourself. Is not something you would tell him but feeling him close and having his attention devoted to you most of the time feels quite special.
The date with Austin didn’t feel right and only confirmed what you've been trying to deny yourself for months. You are in love with freakin Luke Patterson. And you are in really deep, loving the good, bad, fun, boring, charming, and annoying parts, absolutely every side of him. And now is the time to finally do something about it.
After the guys show tonight, even more girls will be raining down on them than usual and things could get really messy, it's best to make your move first. Inside your heart you know that he feels the same, and if he doesn't have the courage to act on it then you will.
The first and most important thing you need to do to get the operation going is to kidnap Reggie, Alex and Bobby.
After a little threatening session everyone sang about Luke's idea for tonight, which made you grin like an idiot and feel more confident about your plan. The surprise that he will get when he sees how you sabotaged his plan.
Convincing Luke that it was best for you to come on your own so that they would have more time to prepare was not easy, but in the end you succeeded.
He's not a suit kinda person, but you went along with him to get a dark blue one that looked unreal on him just a few weeks ago, and you knew he would find a way to wear it sleeveless so he will look even more irresistible. You opted for a black dress that fades beautifully to blue towards the bottom of the skirt and in which you really look pretty good If you can say it yourself.
Sunset Curve finishes singing the first song, Now or never. It's time for the song Luke wrote for you, but he turns to see his friends scared when he still can't find you in the crowd. They smile at him and start to play the song they practiced with you just a few hours before.
“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.”
You walk onto the stage as you start the first verse, Luke is shocked for a few seconds but then grins from ear to ear.
“And you stood there in front of me just... close enough to touch.” He recovers much faster than expected and pulls you by the waist towards him, just the microphone separating you two while he looks at you with the most seductive face you’ve ever seen.
“'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile... Get me with those green eyes, baby as the lights go down.” He blushes a little and smiles while his eyes are locked on your lips, capturing every move.
After what seems like an eternity, the song ends and before you can even say thank you, Luke's lips crash against yours, and it’s even better than what you’ve dreamed plenty of times. All the people start screaming, but you especially hear Reggie and Alex a few steps away who sound pretty happy for you.
“Reggie, an issue occurred, I have to go, sing home is where my horse is if you want to.” Luke whispers to his friend, before effortlessly carrying you off the stage.
“Admit it, you just want to touch my legs.” You joke while he walks with you on his shoulder.
“I’m in love with a really smart girl.” You stay quiet, your heart wants to jump out of your chest and you don’t even want to imagine how red your face is right now.
The guitarist finally brings you down when you leave the building, and you both walk to the park next door, where you met when you were just kids.
"Do you remember exactly how we met?" He asks while taking your hand.
“Reggie and Alex teamed up to destroy you in a game they invented and I was the only one in the park, so you invited me to join your team. And when we managed to win you said that we were the best duo on the face of the earth, that we had to be best friends forever."
“I sound very intense.”
“You are.”
They both laugh at the memory.
"You were still right."
“When did you finally realize that you loved me?” Luke asks, smirking playfully.
“I've known for a long time, but I didn't dare to admit it until recently.”
He completely accepts my answer and sincerity and smiles at me.
“I always knew that we would end up together, you eat me with your eyes when I'm not wearing a shirt.”
His teasing takes effect and you blush just remembering him in that situation.
He smiles cheekily and then takes mercy on you and changes the subject.
“So, we are the best duo on the face of the earth, best friends forever, and now an official couple?”
“That’s right, handsome and smart. Nice.”
Both approach until their lips touch, the kiss begins calm but quickly becomes more passionate, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth, his arms strong on your hips. You let this amazing sensations envelop you and you lose yourself in him, happier than you've ever been.
When you are with the right person, everything feels just right.
Thank you for reading!
Taglist:
@siennanoelle01 , @totomoshi , @kiss-themoongoodbye , @writerinlearning
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barbarianprncess · 3 years ago
Note
“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀
for mari my beloved, 
(aka @chironshorseass ) 
as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :). 
(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)
(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)
(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)
24 hours
read on ao3
enjoy <3
                                                      ...
Percy is fucking exhasted.
He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.
Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.  
But then he remembers.
He retracts his hands.
He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.
“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.
“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.
“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.
“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.
He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.
“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.
“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”
Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.
He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.
“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.
“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”
She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.
“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”
Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.
“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.
“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.
“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”
“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”
“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.
She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.
“Best friends. 24 hours.”
He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.
“Where do we start?”
...
Apparently it starts with homework.
After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.
Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.
It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.
He’s so screwed.
...
The stables are almost empty when they get there.
After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.
When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.
Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:
“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”
Frankly, it was fucking adorable.
Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.
They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.
(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)
...
As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.
“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.”  He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.
“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”
He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.
...
(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.
“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.
“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)
...
“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”
It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.
(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)
He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.
“C’mon, I’ll show you.”
...
He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.
Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.
Come to me.
Minutes pass.
“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.
She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”
He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.
This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.
Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.
“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.
“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.
Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.
“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”
Annabeth stares blankly.
“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.
Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red.  As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”
So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.
(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)
(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)
...
(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.
“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.
He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.
Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.
And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.
And it's perfect.)
...
Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.
Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.  
...
When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.
Oh.
Oh no.
Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.
“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.
“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.
“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.
“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”
She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”
“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”
“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”
“So what do we do?”
She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”
...
Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.
They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.
“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”
“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”
They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.
“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”
“Uh-oh, what?”
She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”
“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.  
“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.
“What.”  
“I can’t believe this.”
“You can’t believe what?”
“You forgot our spot.”
“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”
“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.
“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”
“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”
“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”
She smiles, “I can show you.”
...
“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”
Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found.  His first real best-friend.
They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.
He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.
He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.
He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.
He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.
He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.
He loves her.
He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.
So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,
“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”
She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.
They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.
______________
(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)
(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)
______________
if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)
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hobipaint · 3 years ago
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Graffiti and Chalk- two
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summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?
↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader
↳ genres: angst, fluff
↳ word count: 9.6K
↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.
one | two
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a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)
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Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 
Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 
You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 
"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 
You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 
"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 
Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."
He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 
"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."
Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"
You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 
"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 
"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"
"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."
You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 
Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 
"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 
"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 
You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 
He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 
"It was me." 
Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 
"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 
"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 
"Just said that." 
He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 
"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 
Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"
"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."
"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 
"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"
"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"
"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 
Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 
You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 
"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 
You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 
You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.
Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 
You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 
"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."
You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 
"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 
"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 
He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."
"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."
Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."
"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 
"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."
"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 
You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 
An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 
"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 
Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."
"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 
"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 
You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 
You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 
"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 
You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 
Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 
"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 
"How much time?"
"Maybe a month or two?" 
"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 
How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.
"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 
Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 
"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 
"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 
"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 
Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 
"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 
"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 
"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 
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Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 
The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 
You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 
Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 
Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.
You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 
"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 
You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 
Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 
"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 
"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 
"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 
"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  
"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 
Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 
You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."
"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 
You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 
Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 
And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 
You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."
Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 
You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 
The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 
The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 
The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 
You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 
When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.
During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 
When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 
You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 
"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 
Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 
"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 
You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 
"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 
Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 
You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 
"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 
"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 
"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 
You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 
Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."
You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 
"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."
"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.
"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"
His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 
He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 
He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 
You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 
"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 
You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 
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"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 
You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 
Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 
You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 
All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 
People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 
"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 
"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 
You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 
"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 
"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 
"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 
He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 
You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.
Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 
Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"
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"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 
"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 
"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"
"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 
You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 
"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 
You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 
"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 
"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 
"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 
Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 
The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 
You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 
The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 
You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 
The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 
The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.
You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 
Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 
"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 
Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 
The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 
"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 
"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 
She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 
The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"
Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 
"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"
Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 
You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 
"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 
Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."
"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."
The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 
Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 
The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 
You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 
Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.
"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 
"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 
She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 
You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 
Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 
The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 
"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."
"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 
The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 
The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 
Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 
The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 
"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 
Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 
"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 
You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 
Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 
Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 
"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 
"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 
"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 
"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."
"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 
The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."
Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 
She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 
She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 
"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 
He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 
His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.
Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 
"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 
"For what?"
"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 
You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 
He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 
"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 
You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 
"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 
You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 
"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 
Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."
"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 
You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 
He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 
You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 
"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 
"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 
You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 
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a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞
taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki
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classysassy9791 · 3 years ago
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Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor/Fluff Pairing: InuKag Rating: T
Originally written for @inukag-week on tumblr circa 2016, now officially being updated. Its been a hot minute, hasn't it?
For InuKag Week - Day 2: Warmth
Part 1 l
Part 2 Word Count: 2,600
Can also be found on FFN and AO3.
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Kagome couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.
Sometime between the moment she met the arrogant, rude man known as Inuyasha and the three shots she had consumed, they had fallen into a flirtatious banter that she rather enjoyed. Gone was the pompous jerk who had so rudely called her audacious names, replaced by a man who proved to actually be decent company.
No, she hadn't forgotten about their initial meeting, but as she downed another shot of whiskey, she realized she didn't much care. For the first time in months - maybe longer - Kagome found herself enjoying her evening. With her shackles removed and her inhibitions lowered, she relished in the sweet taste of freedom that had been sorely lacking from her life.
"You did not!" she squealed with absurdity in her tone, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Inuyasha chuckled, tilting his glass and giving a half-shrug. "I did," he confessed sheepishly, but not at all ashamed of his actions. "Miroku ran down the dorm hall, completely naked, screaming after me."
Kagome shook her head. "I can honestly say I have never stolen my roommates clothes while they were in the shower. Or pulled any pranks on them, really."
"To be fair," he continued, signaling the bartender for another round. "He actually met his girlfriend that way."
"By running naked down the hallway?"
He nodded. "Knocked her down and stopped to apologize."
"Still want to leave the tab open?" Kouga interrupted.
"Yeah, that's fine." Inuyasha finished off his beer. "Another round of whiskey shots while you're at it."
Flashing Kagome a smile, Kouga took their empty glasses. "You're going to dry me out."
"It's still early," Kagome barbed playfully. "Your bar will last until midnight at the very least."
He chuckled, filling up their shot glasses and handing them another drink. "Oh, thanks. I was afraid I'd have to close up soon."
Leaving with a, "flag me down if you need me," Kouga wandered to the other end of the bar where a busty blonde waved at him.
Typical, Kagome thought sourly. On the one hand, she didn't like the way her thoughts were turning, considering she didn't really know Kouga, and hated grouping him in with the rest of the spineless male population she had become accustomed to - especially since he was a bartender and it was literally his job to tend to the needs of his customers. But on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel bitter about his attention leaving her. Maybe it was because she had so blatantly been deprived of it for so long, that her longing for companionship had been exacerbated ten-fold.
Taking a sip of beer - which she had switched to once they started doing shots - Kagome heard her phone buzz in her purse again; it had already gone off several times during her conversation with Inuyasha. She finally pulled it out and unlocked it, frowning at the array of messages popping up on her screen.
Inuyasha raised a brow at the irritable look that overcame her expression before Kagome sighed and locked her phone. She quickly downed her shot of whiskey, not even bothering to 'cheers' him.
"Everything okay?" Inuyasha questioned, against his better judgement. There was a reason people showed up by themselves at a bar on Friday nights - either to drown their sorrows in whiskey or to find company for a few fleeting, midnight hours.
Kagome pressed her lips together. She didn't come to the bar to talk about her problems. She wasn't some sad case that needed a therapist to pour her drinks. If anything, she wanted to forget about the emotional damage that had been inflicted earlier that day. Her heart had been broken, her ego bruised, and no matter how many times her friends had told her he wasn't worth it, their sympathies didn't make her feel any better.
But, alcohol had a funny habit of turning into truth serum, and she found herself spilling her guts before she could stop herself. "Just my ex-boyfriend - er, fiance - blowing up my phone."
Inuyasha chuckled. "Can't take a hint, huh?"
Kagome shrugged with a bitter smile. "I mean, he broke off the engagement. Not sure why he can't follow through with his decision."
She had expected sympathy, perhaps even empathy. That's what most people offered in a situation like this, when they didn't know what to say or how to react. But Kagome was caught off-guard by Inuyasha's next question.
"How long were you together?"
Kagome eyed him curiously, his honey gaze hiding a wealth of understanding. "Five years," she answered him, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "Planned our life together, put a ring on it, and even booked the venue. But… I suppose he got cold feet a long time ago."
"His loss. What kind of bastard would put someone through that?"
She hummed thoughtfully, but didn't answer. It wasn't in her best interest to start talking about the past now, and she would rather take the spotlight off of herself all together. "What about you?" she asked her barstool companion as she took another sip of beer. "Any lucky ladies in your life?"
Inuyasha chuckled mirthlessly. "Nah, not anymore."
Kagome arched a brow. "Dare I ask?"
"Not much to tell. Her career and ambitions drove a wedge between us, and she decided they were more important than me. Simple as that."
"Sounds high maintenance."
He grinned. "Something like that. I mean, she knew what she wanted and didn't care what stood in her way. Even me."
Kagome felt an ache beneath her breast for the man beside her. She knew the pain of rejection very well. "Put out in the rain just like a dog. Doesn't that bother you?" she asked, tilting her head.
He frowned at her choice of words, and Kagome knew she may have touched a nerve then, but the alcohol had stripped her of her filter apparently.
"Well, I guess we're all damaged somehow," he replied with a shrug.
She scrunched her nose. "That's a bit thoughtless."
"What can I say? Shit happens. Get over it."
And then Kagome suddenly remembered the arrogant, rude, condescending jerk she had met when she had sat down at the bar earlier in the night. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you such an ass?"
Inuyasha smirked while bringing his beer to his lips. "You are what you eat?"
Kagome let loose a growl of frustration. She had only known him for a short time, but she had quickly learned that Inuyasha was the most infuriating human being on the planet! "Your immaturity is revolting," she stated matter-of-factly, waving down Kouga for another shot of whiskey. She was definitely not drunk enough to deal with the way the conversation had turned.
"I'm not known for my friendly disposition."
Kagome glared at the man sitting next to her. "Is it fun being a jerk to me? Does it satisfy you?"
Inuyasha chuckled. "Actually, it is pretty entertaining."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, Inuyasha. You can hide behind that fake bravado all you want, but I know you're just a big softie underneath."
"Keh," he grumbled, finishing off his beer.
Kagome threw him a glare. "What? No witty repartee?"
He set down his empty glass with a little more force than usual, grabbing Kagome's attention. "I know your type, wench," he snapped, his amber eyes boring into hers. "I know exactly the kind of person you are; all high and mighty, acting as if you're better than everyone else. You think you can show someone how great life can be and how fantastic it is if I would just try. Well, sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but not everyone is worth saving, all right?"
His words left Kagome stunned into silence for a brief moment. How did their witty banter only a few minutes ago turn into this? This… This denied anger and unadulterated cynicism had Kagome reeling, her thoughts turning to what exactly had penetrated Inuyasha's life so completely that he had such a negative outlook on such.
She pursed her lips. "How much do you think you're worth?"
Inuyasha shrugged. "Like twenty bucks. Or two twinkies." He grinned at his own comment, but Kagome didn't find it very funny.
If anything, Kagome felt pity for him. No matter how bleak her life became, she always managed to find the good in it. If a person couldn't do that… Well, that was a pretty sad way to live. "As much as I would love to hear you divulge all of your secrets, this is a great song and I feel like dancing."
"Look, wench," Inuyasha barked out, his anger palpable. "I'm not looking for your validation. I'm pretty fucking happy with my life of dirty pennies and whiskey bottles. We don't all need to be Barbie."
She looked over at him, the low dim of the bar lights shining off his silver hair, and found she could only nurse one wounded heart at a time. "I just wanted you to leave tonight and think the world is a little less horrible than you thought."
"Hey, pretty lady," Kouga greeted as he appeared at the perfect time with another shot of whiskey for her and a full beer, stealing her full attention away from Inuyasha.
Kagome immediately downed the shot and chased it with her beer, ready to forget half of the night and lose herself in the music pounding through the speakers. As the evening wore on, the bar became busier, and the DJ had started up a round of tunes that had half the customers on the dance floor.
Kouga watched her curiously, arching a brow. "You alright there?"
"Dance with me?" she called over the bass pounding through the speakers. Oh yes, it was now the time of the night in which she had no qualms for asking for what she wanted.
He chuckled and glanced over at the other bartenders who appeared to have things under control. "You can steal me for a few minutes."
Kagome grinned and giggled like a school girl, leaving Inuyasha behind without delay. Kouga met her at the end of the bar and took her hand in his as she pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Some upbeat dance music blasted through the speakers. Kagome moved and swayed through the bodies crowding near the DJ, the vibrations of the music becoming part of her energy, raising her up several levels at once. Gone were her heartbroken wallows and the biting arrogance of her barstool companion. Her mind buzzed with pure joy. She moved in her dress like her hips were made to sway, the black sequins catching the disco ball that twirled above, causing her to glitter on the dance floor.
Kouga pulled her close, his strong hand pressed against the small of her back, his chiseled chest pressed against hers. She ran her fingers through her messy hair and pulled it to the side, feeling the beat of the music pound with each beat of her heart. Bodies pressed in tighter all around them. Kagome felt the part of her that was really her come out to play, to feel the vibe of the music and let her body go free.
"You're beautiful," Kouga's voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
His lips looked soft and very kissable, and Kagome knew her decision-making skills were indeed hindered by the alcohol that buzzed through her veins. And then his attention was caught by something else, his royal blue eyes pulling from hers to the outskirts of the dance floor. He said something to her, attempting to shout above the music, but his words were swallowed up by the electric beat that kept her entranced.
Kagome felt his hands slip from around her waist and he disappeared into the crowd. She didn't bother to follow, her hands playing with her hair, her hips moving to the music as she lost herself within it. This was what her heartbroken soul had fiercely needed; a night to forget all the troubles of the day.
Large, meaty hands found her waist, but they were unfamiliar and too warm to the touch. Kagome felt a warm flush find her cheeks as she gazed up to meet a stranger's hazy stare. He pulled her in close - too close - and even in her alcohol-ridden mind, she felt mild panic begin like sparks in her abdomen.
She tried to push him away, first gently and then forcefully, pretending to laugh at his behavior. "Thanks for the dance, but I need some fresh air."
"C'me on, baby," he slurred, pulling her tighter to his sweaty frame, his hot breath rolling over her skin. "We just met. Let's dance s'me more."
Kagome frowned. "I said no." Before she could stomp on his foot and fight her way out of the throng of dancers, the man was forcefully pulled away from her. They became separated by another man, one with very familiar silver hair who had his back to her. She didn't hear the words exchanged, but whatever was said was enough to send the man scampering off to the other side of the bar.
Inuyasha turned around, his piercing honey eyes studying her expression, before his hand gently wrapped around her waist. His grip on her wasn't strong like Kouga's, or possessive like the stranger. Inuyasha's hand was warm against the small of her back, and the anxiety she felt moments ago melted away.
"You okay?" he asked, swaying his hips in tune with hers as they continued to dance to the beat of the music.
She grinned up at him. "Were you worried about me, jerk?"
"Keh," he grumbled, his lips pulling into a smirk. "I despise you more than any other human I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. You're loud and wild and apparently have no sense of self-preservation. You also act like you have the mental capacity of a five year old."
"Are you flirting with me?" she barbed in return.
"Maybe."
His hand found the back of her neck, his fingers finding purchase in her hair, his hips grinding against hers. Warmth pooled into the pit of her stomach, his breath caressing her skin, and she moved her lips to find his.
Kagome barely had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and delved inside her mouth. It was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of beer being exchanged between their billowing breaths. Her arm reached up and tangled around his strong neck. She pulled away and arched up into his broad chest, letting a moan escape in the contact of body heat against her own, before she drew back into his lips.
She could nearly taste the slight bitterness of the beer as it rolled off her tongue and seeped down her throat with every push of his tongue against hers. The kiss coupled with the beer and whiskey humming through her system obliterated every thought. For the first time that day, her mind was locked into the present. Her usual concerns for her life were suspended, and she had no wish for the kiss to end.
But as the music changed, they pulled apart. Inuyasha's skin shimmered with sweat and his amber eyes flecked with gold held her gaze. The beat of the music consumed them under the crazy neon lights, and Kagome felt alive during a night that was still so young.
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deberiaestarescribiendo · 3 years ago
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Honor him. Younger Mercenary Oberyn Martell x f!reader fanfic. #Writer Wednesday 05/26/2021
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Summary: You receive the worst news, Oberyn Martell died, your first lover and the first adventure you lived.
Once when you were younger you ran away from your house escaping an unhappy engagement and the promise of a dull life. But your family hired an elite force of mercenaries to find you not knowing that their leader is a Prince of Dorne.
Word count: 6,5k (ups sorry)
Warning: Blood, violence, Oberyn’s death is mentioned as canon in the book and show, Ophidiophobia(fear of snakes), unhappy arranged marriage, alcohol. +18 SMUT (it means no minors, pls) virgen f!reader, oral sex (f¡ receiving descriptive, male receiving mentioned) p in v sex (unprotected cos there’s no durex in Essos BUT USE PROTECTION IN REAL LIFE PEOPLE) grieving.
A/N: I'M SORRY I'M LATE this is for #Writer Wednesday, the challenge created by @autumnleaves1991-blog
I read the books a long time ago, yep, I’m one of those people that said “I’ll finish them when George publish them all” so I got ASOIAF wiki and run with it, so buckle up for some bad geography from Essos and inaccurate cultural stuff. I think this is the longest thing I’ve written and the smuttiest, so sorry if it’s cringy.
Honor him
“Apparently he won the combat but the wounds were too severe and he died”
You raise your eyes from the book. One of the young servants whispers to another collecting the dead leaves on the ground.
“What is it?”
They rise from the ground nervously expecting that you will scold them for gossiping
“We heard the news from the world. A bard was chanting them on the market, my lady” she approaches the fountain; you’re seated on the ceramic tile, feet inside the water, refreshing from the blazing sun in this part of Essos.
“And what did he say?”
“He said there was a trial in Kingslanding. For the death of king Joffrey, and it was his cousin...”
“His uncle, the imp” clarifies the other and the other girl rolls her eyes
“Yes, his uncle was on trial for his murder. And Prince Oberyn from Dorne was his champion”
“The imp asked for a trial by combat, you see, my lady” adds the other
“He battled the Mountain; he crushed the prince’s skull apparently”
“But! but! His blade had poison on it so the Mountain died too” says the other girl excitedly
“Oberyn died?” you mutter, your hands are limp and you don’t realize that you have drop your book until you hear the ��blop” sound in the water and it splashed your tunic
Your mind travels to years past in an instant: A journey through the vast empty lands of this continent and how you loved for the first time.
The pages of your book are getting more and more transparent while the black trickles of ink disappear in the water. You wish to scream, to rip your clothes and your hair out of your scalp but you do nothing.
“Are you alright, my lady?” the girls look at each other when you don’t move or try to retrieve your book from the water.
You always thought the greatest pain he gave you was leaving you at your father’s door many years ago, but now he’s gone forever. You always thought, while looking from your window at night, that you will see him one day, coming back on his dark horse ready to steal you away again, but now that he’s dead that small hope, that tiny flame that you kept in your heart is gone.
Your childish hopes and dreams of reviving your first love are shattered. It’s true that your life has changed, you’re a grown woman now, wiser and experience but you still fantasize over him, seeing his face and his hands on your lovers.
“We should call physician” you heard them whisper, but so far away
“Where is he anyway?”
“At his clinic, you silly girl, run”
“You do not need to call him” you mutter “I’m fine. Excuse me”
Not caring for splashing water all over the house, you run to your chambers and collapse into your bed. Buried in the soft pillows, you cried, muffling your howls with them so nobody could hear. Late in the night the moon and stars shine bright casting bluish shadows in your room.
Your body is tired but restless and in the night shade a timid ray of white light illuminates that small scar in your forearm in the shape of a half-moon. And you kiss it, at least you will always have something of his carved in your skin.
Many years ago. Essos.
“You’re cheating, boy” the big man slams the table, the wooden pieces and the coins that all the players have laid at the center fall down. He points at you spitting from a mouth full of crooked black teeth “Show me your arms, boy, I know you’re lying”
“I’m just lucky, sir” you raise your blouse’s sleeves and your arms up innocently and somehow it makes him angrier
He insults you in whatever language he speaks and slams the table up, the players run and the loud tavern suddenly gets quite, waiting for the next movement. You’re an ant in front of that enormous giant, when he stands tall and walks menacingly towards you, you freeze, he doesn’t listen to you when you apologize, it doesn’t matter anyway, you just did to gain time and look for an exit but the room is too crowded.
“Here, boy, I’ve also many tricks under my sleeve” he has a dirty bag hanging from his belt and takes it and throws it at you. It lands at your feet and for a second you smirk not knowing what a bag could do to you, but then it moves and in a blur you see a green and yellow thing twisting until you feel it pressing and slithering over your body. The snake, a beautiful, shiny creature with vibrant colors faces you hissing and shows its fangs. Everything happens to fast. Out of instinct you protect your face with your arms and the animal understands this as a threat and it bites. The pain rings like a bell all over your body every nerve in your body aflame.
In a second, cold blood wets your face and you gasp when you see the snake’s head slide to the side separated from its body with a clean cut.
“I’m sorry for the demise of your little friend” A tall lean man stands beside the giant. You can’t see his face, since he’s covered with black turban and his body is in full armor. One of his arms still holds a curved sword that has snake blood on it; the other has a dagger pointed to your enemy’s neck.
“That viper was worth more than you or your little friend and you will pay for it”
“I doubt it. You know my little friend here” and he points his sword to you “it’s worth a lot and if I don’t tend to her wound rapidly she will die and that’s a shame. So, decide now, do you want to be a setback or do you want to keep living your stinky life longer?”
By brute force, the giant decides his fate and tries to disarm the man who in a swift movement cuts his throat and his blood and destiny joints that of his pet.
“You’ve been quite difficult to find, child” he opens the fabric covering his face. His eyes are dark, dark beard covers his defined jaw line and an amused smirk graces his handsome face. “Let me see that arm” he lowers his weapons, shamelessly cleaning his dagger on the back of the dead tall man and walks to you until your back is pressed against one of the tavern columns. Sheathing his sword, his hand takes yours and raises your arm, evaluating the wound and he hums deeply “Oh, sweet child”
“Am I going to die?” you cry
“Probably”
“If it’s my father who commands you to find me, I beg you to let me die; I do not wish to go back. Death is better than that dreadful place” you shake your head determined but terrified at the same time. He looks at you with his brow troubled
“Death is never better than anything” and he drags your arm to his face. His dark gaze fix on you while he sucks on the wound so hard that for a moment you think he’s drinking your life away. But then he lets you go and spits to the ground “Let’s hope that’s enough. You will come with me so I can give you the antidote”
“I told you, I have no desire to return to my home”
“It’s a pity, then, that I don’t care about that” he grins.
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He gave you so many small jars to drink. Some tasted sweet some bitter and some other made you want to vomit and not drink or eat ever again. But you’re alive. A few hours passed, and then a day, then two, and you’re irrevocably getting back home.
You’ve learnt that your father, in an attempt to find you, has commissioned this elite group of mercenaries to retrieve you; and he’s the leader. It’s a small company but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. All of them seemed to have many different skills, weapons hidden at every corner of their body, they speak languages you don’t know and you ride your horse tied to it watching each one of them with a suspicious look. After two days riding with them you have decided that there’s no way you could escape now. There’s always one of them standing guard and just a small glare your way gets every thought of escaping out of your head. So, even if it’s dramatic, you decided that your best option is to die. A few days in the desert without water and food and your father will receive a corpse.
“Drink, little girl, you’re withering like a flower” the leader, the man that saved you, says handing you the waterskin
“No, thank you” you turn your head, seated under the shadow of a very thin and dry bush. The orange and violet light announces the immanent sunset where you have stopped for the day.
“You’ve been refusing water all day. You have to drink” he says and pushes the waterskin to your face once more.
“No, thank you” you repeat and he sighs. Thinking you’ve won as he throws the waterskin by his side, you smile subtly until he’s close, crouched down, knees over the sand, looking at you.
“Maybe being a spoiled little flower works for your father, but not to me. Drink or I will make you” He takes your chin and raises it to meet his eyes
“I’m not thirsty” you say, your lips are already dry and they hurt, your tongue is thick inside your mouth and your body screams for just one drop.
“Don’t challenge me, child” he lowers his voice and you gulp
“I’m not a child” you protest, he keeps calling you that and honestly you don’t think he’s much older that you
“Then why do you behave like one? Drink, for the last time” His mouth is a fine line now and his grip on your chin is a little bit firmer
When you don’t answer he opens the waterskin and tucking on your lower lip he pours a small trickle of water in your mouth. The liquid taste sweet, your body works on it own and you open your mouth to drink more with desperation.
“So you weren’t thirsty...stubborn girl” he smirks and you want to slap his smug and beautiful face
He stops pouring water and laughs when you rise up drinking the last drops before he puts the cap on it.
“Look at you, not a withering flower anymore” the mercenary brushes his knuckles over you cheek and you feel them burn “What else do you want?” his thumb caress your chin gathering the small drops of water on your skin and spreads it over your lower lip.
You feel your bones burning, a tension in your lower belly that you haven’t feel many times and that makes you ask for something you don’t even know, so you just answer a timid yes and let him guide you to the fire and the rest of the company.
One of the mercenary is skinning some rabbits, methodically pulling the skin off with blood hands and a deathly gaze fix on you “So she decided to join us” she says
“Oberyn can be really persuasive” another, a big bald man with a beard tinted in blue, adds
So his name is Oberyn, where have you heard that name before?
“Remember that her father is paying for the whole of her, untouched he said” a lean blonde woman, with her face full of black and blue tattoos, is lounged over the bags sharpening her knives
“Well, I hope he doesn’t see her arm, that viper left her with a beautiful scar” Oberyn sits down and helps the mercenary skinning the animals and impales them and puts them to roast on the fire
“I’m not talking about that kind of viper...” she says and the company laughs
“I’m right here” they stop laughing looking at you as if you have done something they deem impossible
“So she speaks” the bearded man says
“She does but it may take some convincing” Oberyn smiles at you over the flames that illuminate his striking and sharp features “If you wish to eat, sweet flower, why don’t tell us how did you escape? We love a good story while we camp”
“Your father was convinced some ragged boy had stole you from your palace” adds the blonde woman
You smile, feeling some kind of pride for your plan, that, looking at it from perspective, did not grant you what you wanted but at least you had a good run. You tell them about how you disguised as a ragged boy lurking a few nights prior your escape so that the servants suspected about somebody being guilty of your disappearing. And how you ran away the night of your betrothal and made it look as if somebody had kidnapped you.
“I ran out of money in Lys so I had to beg, or steal, or gamble for a few coins. And then you found me” you finish your tale, sucking on your fingers, the meat is the best you ever tasted but yet again it must be the hunger from this days refusing to eat or drink.
“I’m almost tempted to let you go, young one, you seem a very resourceful girl” the beard man that you now know as Uhlan smiles at you proudly
“Think about the money” the blonde woman, Rikan, chew on a bone and toss it to the fire
“I’m always thinking about it, why do you think I’m a sellsword?” he jests
“Because you were a street rat with a broad back as broad as your stupidity and it’s the only thing you can do” Rikan spits and Uhlan laughs, a deep and low chuckle that resonates as a thunder.
“She’s a little princess, she couldn’t have survived much longer” the other woman, Shifa adds, the rest of the company has changed the way they look at you, but her. She still squints at you
“There’re princes that have survived worse” Uhlan counters and suddenly there’s a heavy and uncomfortable silence over them. You look at all of them trying to understand and you see Oberyn looking at his feet until he claps his hands together “Let’s get some sleep, we have a long way ahead”
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It’s surprising what food, water and company can achieve. You’re smiling more, you almost forget that you will be delivered to your father and future husband within days, Uhlan tells you about his many adventures, how he almost die in Yiti, how he rode once with a Khalassar and that he had seen the great shadow in the East. Rikan has gifted you a knife “a girl needs to defend herself” she said and proceed to show you how to kill a man in many different ways “If you want to kill your husband though, you must ask Oberyn, he’s the one that knows about poisons and how to kill somebody without raising suspicions”
“How does he know that?” you ask, leaning to the right so you get close to her horse, Oberyn rides beside Shifa before you; both of them speaking in a language you don’t understand
“He has studied many things; he’s been all over the world. He was almost a Maester once, but preferred to travel, fight and fuck the world before he gets back to his duties”
“Duties?”
“He’s a prince” she whispers a mischievous smile on her lips “he doesn’t want to talk about it, because it makes people treat him differently or underestimate him. So don’t tell him it was me, blame the big rat”
“Did somebody call me?” Uhlan screams at the back
“You do have a sharp ear when you want, my friend”
You arrive to Myr at dusk. The city is still vibrating, the merchants offering everything you could imagine and the streets smell like thousands spices. And you absorb it all with wide eyes and open mouth.
“It’s a beautiful world, my sweet flower, and you wanted to end your life” Oberyn raises his voice over the people chatting and selling stuff
“If only it could always be like this” you answer, your smile dies in your mouth remembering this is a passing thing. The adventure will be over soon.
“Life gives us many opportunities to dwell in its pleasures; you have only to acquire a keen eye to recognize the perfect moment to seize it”
“Are you implying that I will have another chance to escape?” you scoff
“Maybe...if that is what you want or maybe to enjoy your life as a married woman, who knows”
You sigh deeply trying to ignore the thoughts about your future husband, that drunken bastard, boring and dull that your father chose.
“Or you could run away and avoid your responsibilities; you can create your own destiny, my sweet flower”
“And that’s what you are doing? Avoiding your duties?” you stop in your tracks and he watches you for a moment, chewing on his lower lip
“Maybe” he answers finally
“I’m tired of being treated as if I was overreacting being a spoiled child while you are here doing exactly what I did, ran away, from the duties of a noble life. I’m not overreacting; all I want is to decide if I want to live my life bearing children for my fool husband and maybe die giving birth or out of boredom and disappointment or try my luck in the wild world. Isn’t that what you are doing? Travel, fight and fuck the world? What’s the difference between me and you?” The people surround you, the company has already enter the tavern in front of you knowing they shouldn’t meddle
“Travel, fight and fuck the world seem a pretty good title for a book. Maybe when I’m old I will write my adventures under that title” he laughs
“I’m glad I amuse you” you spat with your arms crossed
“I apologize if I made you feel that I was underestimating you. Do not confuse my laughter with mockery, I know how you feel and I understand.” He comes close to you, each hand on your arms, pressing them lightly “Believe me, I wouldn’t have accepted this job if your father didn’t pay so well. I have to get back home and I want to leave my company with enough resources so they can continue on their own” he explains, he bends his neck so you are so close you can smell his scent, leather, horse and the dessert. “But that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy ourselves while it lasts” Oberyn smiles and passes his arm over your shoulders “Have you tasted the wine from Myr?” you shake your head “It’s the sweetest”
The wine is starting to play with your mind, your smile falls languidly over the corner of your lips and you don’t know why you’re laughing but whatever song Uhlan is singing is the funniest thing you’ve heard. Rikan laughs by your side, her laugh is actually sweet and high making her look less menacing. Shifa is the only one that doesn’t look amused at all and he drinks from her goblet eyeing the tavern, especially you, with hatred.
“C’mon, Shifa, we know you can smile” Uhlan grabs her in a bear hug but she squeezes herself out of it
“Let me alone, you brute”
“You haven’t talked much since we retrieve the little girl over here, tell us what’s going on in that little twisted mind of yours?” the man jokes and the other mercenary glares at him
“I’m going to my chamber” She drinks the rest of her drink and strides to the rooms, pushing the drunken people in her way
“Leave her, Uhlan! She’s just jealous that her prince is not directing his attentions only to her lately” Rikan says winking at you
Oberyn has been absent having a conversation in another table until he comes back with a serious expression
“I’m partially offended that you think our company it’s not worth your time” Uhlan says sliding to give him enough space to seat by his side
“Huh, so I guess Shifa is not the only one jealous” Rikan drinks looking at him over her goblet
“Shut up!”
“Where is she?” Oberyn asks
“She went to her chamber” Uhlan serves him wine “So what was about those ugly bastards that got your attention; I thought you had a very refined taste”
“Those are Westerosi men; I wanted to get news of the world. Some of us still appreciate the pursuit of knowledge, my friend” Oberyn taps on his big shoulder
“I appreciate the pursuit of a good fuck better, my friend. Let’s see if those Westerosi want to share some news with me, Rikan are you coming? I’m always lucky with you around”
“I don’t like Westerosi” she snarls
“I don’t care, I just need you to be there so they take a good look at your ugly face and they get convinced that fucking with me is the good option of the two of us” he jokes with one of those thunder like chuckles
Rikan laughs and she follows him, waddling towards the men’s table.
“I should go to my room” you say, rising too fast and the whole room twists and turns
“You liked the wine, I see” he observes you grab the wooden table for your dear life until you find your balance
“Too sweet, I haven’t noticed it until it was too late”
“Let me guide you then”
Oberyn grabs you by your waist and helps you climb the stairs to the second floor. People gather around the aisle, laughter and moans fill the air and the heat of Oberyn skin over yours and the boldness giving by the alcohol make you pressed your body against his a little tighter than its necessary.
“This is you” he says opening the door for you
“Is it true what you said about creating our own destiny?” you collapse on his firm chest, your hands brushing over his neck
“Yes, sweet flower”
“Sweet flower” you mimic his accent “Say it one more time” your glossy lips, sticky with wine, leave a kiss on the tan uncover skin of his chest. His laugh makes you raise your head
“You need to sleep, child”
“No, no!” you slap his hand away when he tries to push you inside the room “Don’t call me that, I’m not a child. I’m a woman” you try to fix your posture to seem taller but you body stumbles to one side almost falling down
“What you are is a very inebriated girl. Good night, my sweet flower” he says closing the door
“Are you going to Shifa’s room?” the words escape your lips before you can think and he lingers on the door with an eyebrow raised
“Why do you ask that?”
“I don’t want you to go to her” again the words are out before you process them
“And what do you want me to do?” Oberyn closes the door behind him. And you breathe deeply a mixture of excitement and fear.
“Stay with me” you mutter
“Believe me I would, but you don’t know what you are asking. It is the wine speaking”
“No it’s not” you pout again falling into his arms, hearing how you sound like a spoiled little girl, you cough “It’s not” you repeat
“Right, let me take you to bed then”
You gasp looking at him with wide eyes. Oberyn hugs your body and walks towards the simple bed at the corner until you both fall down on the soft mattress
“Oberyn” you whisper “I have to tell you something before we...”
“Tell me, sweet flower” He lays beside you, posing his head over his fist
“I’m...I’ve never...” you stutter
“No need to worry” with his free hand he starts to brush his index finger from your brow to the tip of your nose so slowly and softly that you feel your eyes closing down
“Are you trying to make me sleep as if I was a puppy?” you slur
“Shh” he continues until the room goes dark and you cannot open your eyes for much that you try
“Sweet dreams, sweet flower” you hear before you blank out.
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The sun pierces your eyes as if its rays were daggers. The company laughs at your expense, but yet again, Shifa hisses and insults you in some language but it’s evident that she said something nasty because Oberyn glares at her.
“No more Myr wine for you, little girl” Uhlan laughs helping you get on your horse
“Never” you murmur
The pain in the back of your head and the unstoppable thirst you have makes you moody, and it doesn’t help that you know you’re one day away from your home. But everything is worse with the hard sting of jealousy. It’s not that Oberyn does much, but he rides along side her, speaking in that stupid language you don’t understand, and she makes him laugh, he watches with attention whatever she points at during the way. He looks at her, talks to her. All you want is to rush your stupid horse and take her place.
It gets worse when Shifa sees you observing them; knowing damn well what you feel, she becomes softer, leaving touches on his skin, whispers things on his ear. And you can see the intimacy, the camaraderie that they share and that you will never have. And she’s a woman not a little girl, fierce, independent, and strong; and you cannot stop comparing yourself to her.
You arrive to a small town in between the domains of the two free cities, just hours away from the gates of Pentos.
“We will spent the night here, we need to be presentable for tomorrow”
The town has a small and humble bath house. The simple exterior made of red brick doesn’t show the beauty it has in its interior. The garden inside is made of brick and ceramic creating beautiful arches that frame the pool in the middle; green vines crept over the walls and the tender murmur of water is the only sound you can hear.
“We have rooms to accommodate you for the night once you’re done with your baths” the lady, owner of the house, announces and snaps her fingers towards the servants so they get everything ready.
“Thank you” Oberyn says bowing his head “Wash away the dust of our journey, my friends. Specially you, Uhlan” he jokes, slapping the big man’s belly
“You’re as stinky as me, my prince, but the Gods didn’t give me a beautiful face”
The company strips shamelessly, you think that they’re so comfortable around each other that they don’t think twice before submerge their naked bodies in the fresh water.
You stay by the side, taking off your shoes and rolling your sleeves so you can wash your feet and face. You avert your eyes when you see that Oberyn’s armor is on the floor. Your eyes fixed on the water and the blue tiles at the bottom, but you cannot stop from raising your eyes just a little.
His magnificent, strong, and tight body, his beautiful golden skin is marked in scars in some parts, you see the muscles on his legs tensing and relaxing as he gets in the pool. Your eyes travel through the room to avoid seeing him in his full grace.
“C’mon child, you don’t want to be stinky when you meet your father” Rikan splash water at you
“I-I”
“Let her be, she’s scare of my big cock” Uhlan laughs
“That thing that you can barely get up? C’mon, child, it is harmless” The blonde mercenary swims towards you and grabs your hand to pull you in
“Rikan, leave her, let’s finish and we will leave her some privacy” Oberyn says under the small waterfall brushing his skin with a small piece of soap
“Your husband’s eyes will be the only ones that will see you naked” Shifa says and she swims towards Oberyn. Her body is toned and muscular. She joints him under the water stream and when she tries to touch him, he moves away.
You don’t want to smile, but you do, until you remember that he refused you the other night and tonight is the last night you’ll spend with them. Shifa will have him for whatever time she wants.
Eventually they leave the pool, putting on some fresh clothes and rubbing some scent oils on their skins and they look different, less mercenary and more like elite warriors with a thousand adventures to tell. You will miss them; they are the only friends you have ever had.
“Thank you” you say stopping their banter over who’s going to take which room, they look at you confused “Thank you for rescuing me” you say with a trembling voice
“It’s nothing, child” Uhlan says and you see his big eyes shine
“We will give you some privacy” Rikan nods
When they are away you take off those stinky clothes you’ve been wearing since you escape. You moan feeling the water soften your muscle and you enjoy the strong cascade of water hitting your back until your bones feel like liquid inside your skin.
“I never expected you to thank us for getting you to your father” his voice gets you out of the trance, and you don’t open your eyes when you hear the soft sound of clothes hitting the ground and the splash of water when he gets inside the pool again.
“I didn’t thank you for that, but for rescuing me” you answer still your eyes closed under the waterfall “And saving my life” you pass your hand over the now healed wound, a moon shape scar where he suck the venom out of you.
Oberyn fingers grab your wrist, raising your arm towards his lips and planting kisses alongside your veins until he arrives to the thicker skin of the scar, sucking again on it.
“Do you still believe that it was better to let you die from the snake’s bite than to be back home?” he whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you over your pulse
“I still can run away” you open one eye. Oberyn looks amused at you
“Will you?” he asks saving the distance between you
“I don’t know. Will you come get me if I do?” You approach him, intertwining your hands on his neck
“The world is big and beautiful; it will be a shame that a sweet flower like you rots in a place like this all her life” he turns his head and leaves a kiss on each of your arms
“So that’s a no” you laugh but the pain in your heart is real
“I have to leave Essos soon, I guess the time for adventures is up” he exhales deeply
“Just the last one then” you’re surprised of your boldness when you rise on your tiptoes to kiss his lips
It is soft at first. Just tasting him, tempting him to show you more, and he does. Oberyn opens his mouth and sucks on your lower lip and when your mouth is open he savors you with his tongue. He holds your face on his large palms guiding you softly until the kiss deepens and your hands leave his neck roaming through his back and he reciprocates. His hand caresses every inch from your neck to your arms. You moan in protest when he breaks the kiss but then his kisses move to your neck nibbling your skin. He pampers every part of you with his attention, soft kisses and bites over the top of you breast.You cry out laughing when he grabs you and rise by the waist so he can access your tits. You circle his waist with your legs and you hold yourself on his shoulders.
Any good sense in you, any coherent thought gets lost one his mouth sucks on your nipples and you kiss his head trying to control your panting. The sounds that come out of you seem so far away, his low grunts and moans over your breast melt you and you feel the heat gathering between your legs.
“My sweet flower, you have the sweetest tits” he moans and he lowers you so he can kiss you one more time. You run your fingers over his dark hair, his impossibly close to you but you need more. You need him like those drops of water he poured in you the first time. The hunger, the jealousy and desire you felt these past days have reached its peak and you think your heart will collapse. You repeat his name on his lips like a plea.
Oberyn carries you to the side of the pool, and you feel your cheeks burning, your body in goose flesh feeling exposed and at his mercy now that the water is not covering you. He takes his time admiring you, his brow eyes eating every pore of your skin. Kissing your legs he parts them grabbing you by the hips he positions you just at the edge of the pool. He palms your breasts one more time, gracing each nipple with a small pinch that makes you moan loudly. You get flustered, gaining a bit of your conscience back
“No need to be shy, my love, let go. I wish to hear every sweet moan, drink every drop of this sweet cunt” he plants a kiss on your navel, before lowering his face. His first lick between your lips makes you marvel of the unknown sensation. His eyes are fixed on you while he licks faster and sucks between your small lips, when you tense, every single fiber of your body burning, he changes his rhythm, lapping languidly all your sex and back again, fast and slow, and never too much. Until you’re gasping for air and pushing him away
“Please, it’s too much”
“Let me show you, trust me” his wet mouth bites you inner thigh before he starts again. This time you reach the point of no return faster. A wide abyss before you where you skin burns and you heart beat faster until you fall, crying his name. And he holds you, planting kisses all over you body, every part he can reach. The gasps lead to laughter
“What happe...how?” you ask
“I have many things to show you my sweet flower” he smiles
Oberyn lets you in his room. The warm night breeze moves the white curtains and the moonshine casts its rays so you can see him get on top of you with the warmest of smiles.
“Do you still want this, my flower?” he asks
You grab him by the neck and let your lips answer for you. Lowering your touch you push his back so he presses his body against you even tighter.
“Please, please” you beg on his ear
He reaches between your bodies and brushes the tip of his cock on your lips coating it in your arousal, before pushing gently. You gasp at the intrusion; it’s not pain what you feel but definitively a bit uncomfortable at first
“Let me in, my sweet, relax for me” Oberyn bends his neck to kiss and bite your tits. The pleasure turns your body into a withering mess until you’re full of him.
He moves lazily at first letting you grow used to his length and width while he observes your face
“Is it alright my love?”
“I need more” you murmur
“More?” He rises, pressing the weight of his body on his knees and opens you wider grabbing the soft skin on your hips “Like this?” he thrusts deep and fast with each word and you nod biting your lip. His pace is unforgiving, and you cannot think, all you can feel is him, and his sweet words and praises combined with the slaps of wet skin and the creaks of this old bed. Your fingers scratch softly on his chest trying to hold into something when you feel that abyss again, but this time you let it go and it hits you harder. Oberyn collapses over you letting your cunt squeeze him even tighter, slowly dragging himself in and out until he sense his release coming and he pushes harder once, twice until he spills his warm seed.
You kiss his brow, wet from exhaustion and the pool, in a way the cage he’s forming with his body pressed against the mattress is the freest you have ever felt.
The dawn wakes you up, many years later, a harrowing pain in your chest remembering how he kissed you a thousand times, how you slept caged in his arms for a few hours and then woke up with his face between your thighs
“Does it hurt?” he asked and you flinched, feeling the swollen and sensitive skin “I will kiss it better” he said. And you made love again, he moved you in the bed showing how to touch your body and how to touch him, how to pleasure him with your mouth as he did to you. Until the sun invaded the room and crashed your safe space between the shadows. You could no longer hide from your destiny, it was time to go.
He left you, a small and decent kiss on your hand and bid you farewell wishing you a happy life.
You remember running, not paying attention to your father’s complaints and your mother’s cries while you soon-to-be husband drank wine unbothered by the whole thing. You ran to the balcony watching his dark horse taking him out of the city.
He never looked back, and with his parting figure you promised you will live your life happy even if you have to run for it. That you will live adventures on your own until life gives you the last drop of its joy and pleasure. In a way you promised to honor him without knowing one day it will come true.
So you woke up, older, wiser, in your own house, after many adventures lived, and after a sleepless night mourning him, you grab paper and ink and write:
“Travel, fight and fuck the world: the Adventures of an Unusual Lady”
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katsukikitten · 4 years ago
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Warnings College AU sexual and adult themes. Yall know the drill okay
Chapter 2
Bugzapper⚡💔: i have a proposition to make. 
Jiro flashes Mina her phone as she sips iced coffee in the blessed air conditioning of the cafe.
"That's never a good sign." She comments, moon bright eyes glued to the phone as she thinks. 
"What's not a good sign?" Uraraka asks from across the table, the two girls fill her in. 
"Oh." She racks her brain on what that could be, "Okay well I'm dying to know, now." 
🎵Music to my soul 🎶 : What do you want airhead? 
Jiro's text sent a surge of excitement through Kaminari. It was exactly what he needed after three hours of begging and bribing Bakugou to allow the sorority in or at least invite them. His fingers fly across the screen setting up a date and time for a "meeting over lunch" to discuss the proposition in further detail.  
Meanwhile across campus, you huff, eyes narrowed as a rare emotion is pulled from your fingertips in the form of deadly ice. Pulling the moisture from the air to freeze it or pulling any water towards you to keep your flank safe as your opponent rushes you at breakneck speeds. 
You hated this fucking guy, cocky, brash, so God damn arrogant in the way he held himself, in the way he spoke. It made you nauseous just thinking of him.Had you known he was the male star of this university you wouldn't have transferred, yet you still needed to transfer didn't you? Anything to get out from under the shadow of a certain Todoroki. 
No one cared to admit or to notice, that your quirk was different from Shoto's. You could manipulate water towards you to freeze, and manipulate whatever was already frozen. Your ice was denser and more durable than his and dare you say it colder than his too. Yet no one gave a shit, his was ice AND fire. You were just a one trick pony and a trick they already saw. Your opponent's taunting doesn't help matters much.
"I've already seen this before Ice Brat. Did ya forget where I fucking went to high school?" His hand heats the ice as he activates his quirk before three deafening blasts ring out. 
As you allow him to break down the ice you act on pure rage, securing some revenge from the first time he signed your hair. Pointed icicles lie in wait and once the wall is fully down you give him a nasty smirk before sending the straight his way. 
You're supposed to melt your weapons before they hit your opponent, neither of you are supposed to go all out per the professor's and college's strict rules in the athletics department but Bakugou always does. Somehow his big stupid mouth spews something that eggs you on. As if someone were shoving bamboo skewers beneath your skin, under your nails, sending you into an unheard of rage. 
Normally you were as your quirk, icy, unbothered by the world but Bakugou, God you could wring his neck. Freeze his hot blood as you watch him turn into slush beneath your feet. 
He expects you to abide by the rules, to splash him with glacier water but he realizes it too late. That you won't he let's off a quick blast, shattering two of the four deadly points. One grazes his cheek as he just barely dodges while the other lodges itself into his arm. 
You have half a mind to twist it. You pull at his blood bringing it into your arsenal. Blood red needles and bullets surround Bakugou. 
"I don't think you've seen this before.." You say darkly ready to release your hold and shred him into, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe he would see how bitter and nauseating he was. He smirks, opening his mouth to retort but you send your ice his way aiming for non vital spots although the ice creeps closer to your heart begging it to hit something vital. The inside of your ice palace begins to reek of burning sugar and spice, he plans to let out an explosion to bring this whole place down from the inside out. 
Just as he is about to detonate and just as the blood and ice are about to pierce skin the professor bursts into the gym.  
"I step out for five minutes and this is what happens?!"
The ice and blood return to liquid splashing across Bakugou as his skin pops. The professor takes in the damage from your ice and his explosions, still better controlled than most of his other students quirks. 
"I gotta stop pairing these two together." He murmurs to himself before dismissing class. With a flick of your wrist the ice fortress melts, returning to the reservoir below the gym floor, ignoring the molten glare that is sent your way.
"You're such a bitch." Bakugou growls as you pass, flinging blood from his fingers as he wipes at his face. You offer him a fake pitying smile before heading into the women's locker room. 
"Fucking asshole." You hiss, forcing the sight of his garnet gaze out of your mind. Instead turning your attention to your buzzing phone in your locker. It's a few missed calls and some texts in the girl's group chat. Briefly you wonder if you ever should have joined that stupid sorority, it was small, non toxic, and would look good should you need to transfer again. 
Not only did you somehow get elected the president but you also became friends with the three other ladies despite your best efforts not too. 
Mins: Prez we might have a way to save the sorority...lunch after you're done with training? 
IceQueen ❄: Hope it's good, the Dean already put the house up for sale. Let me get ready and I'll be there shortly. 
Mina presents her phone to the crowd around her, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro and Uraraka do a small celebration. Denki more so than anyone else, he knows the combined car washes will be more than enough to fix up the house, he also recently learned that you had the power of negotiation on your side. Having just listened to Mina retell the story of how you got free food for a month from a bar for yourself and your friends. And not from some sleaze who wanted to sleep with you either, no it was from the owner himself. 
Denki is hopeful and so are the ladies indicating that this may be his best idea yet. 
You arrive at the small bistro early, spying your party on the front patio. The three men had seen you in person before, they knew you were easy on the eyes but up close you were breathtaking. Manicured nails but nothing gaudy, normally nude or soft shades, light makeup, mascara at most as far as they could tell and your outfit was well put together. You were what the world called plus size but everyone else called thiccc. Your confidence oozing in your light blouse tucked into your black skinny jeans, uncaring that you had a pouch. 
You needed that extra fat to keep from freezing by your own quirk. The only thing you needed society to worry about was your intelligence and your power. 
Both were SSR ranked so what did you fucking care that your body was ranked lower. They were stupid in thinking you'd skimp power in the name of vanity. 
You recognize everyone at the table and internalize the dread you're feeling. Scheming is afoot and you're the last to arrive. You can tell by their half finished drinks and picked over appetizer, still you sit and act unaware. Denki goes to hold out his hand first for a formal introduction causing a sly cat smile to settle over your glossy lips. 
"No need, I'm aware of who the three of you are. Sero we share our lingual class, Denki, our chemistry class, and Kirishima we share two classes, world studies and villain hero theory. Truly a pleasure." You tell then your name before ordering something to drink from the lingering waitress. Sitting stick straight with your shoulders backs has the men mirroring you. 
"Well ladies I take it the plan to save the sorority involves these fine gentlemen." You ask coolly and they nod. After a moment of silence Mina and Denki go to speak. Awkwardly encouraging the other to speak until Minai clears her throat. 
"As you know they are a newly formed frat with Sero as their president. They moved into their house about a month ago and they say it is quite large. So they have invited us to move in." 
"How do you propose we ask the college to have a co-ed house? What does this fraternity home even look like?" They knew you would be quick to ask questions Mina answers the first while Denki provides the answer to the second. 
"Union and Diversity. Forming close relationships now to carry over into our hero careers." 
"The house needs some work but looks a lot better than what it did." Denki shows you before and after pictures as you gesture for his phone. He passes you his electric yellow case with nervous hope tingling beneath his skin. You swipe through the photos. 
"You boys did a great job on the outside. Inside needs a lot of work. Hardwoods will be easy to fix, they are original but don't seen to be damaged, a good scrub will spruce them up. Wait, are those?" You zoom in on the photo of the living room, "Are those foldable camping chairs and a VHS tv?" 
They gulp loudly as they nod, your purse your lips in disapproval. 
"I can fix that." You pass Denki back his phone, assuming that all the roommates will be present, "I see the main focus was the kitchen but some of the appliances seem to be on their last legs. I can fix that as well." 
"Soooo….So it's a yes?" Jiro asks, feeling relief for the first time in months since they received the letter of eviction. 
"Gotta get the college to agree first." You think on it a moment, "But I'm sure we can arrange that. Uraraka can you draft an email to the Dean requesting an official meeting regarding our sorority? Be sure to explain in detail our situation, how we are being forced to disband by their account and the solution we have. Make sure it's an afternoon meeting too. The dean hates to miss golf with our rival university's dean." 
With the plan set in motion all of you return to your evening classes. Jiro nudges Denki in the ribs, listening to his heart race from their closeness. 
"When are we going to tell her about Bakugou?" She throws her almost lover a look that he seems to wither beneath. His jaw tics before he retorts. 
"I think we should wait to see if this even works first." 
After a week the important meeting arrives and as you thought the Dean is already exhibiting signs of impatience. He is more than ready to wrap this up and you already know his answer is going to be no. Already trying to get it out before the four of you can even have a seat. 
Still you weren't the Ice Queen on campus for nothing. You saunter into the room, mineola folder filled with your copies of counterpoints pressed firmly to your chest, you can already see he doesn't have the copies you sent him. You place the folder down and open it, leafing through the pages as you speak. 
"This request is going to be approved and here are the reasons why. An example of sexism could be made that a new fraternity was approved housing, new housing, after a decades old sorority was deemed "too small" both parties are similar in count. Second funding and donations are easily influenced with letters to alumni and especially by attendees to this university. My transfer from YAU has brought in revenue of roughly 2.6 million dollars, increasing your diversity for women when this is normally a male dominated school. I am aware that my transfer had even encouraged other students from YAU to transfer here. Which I'm sure is one of your favorite bragging points to tell Dean Fraunk during your weekly golf trips isn't it? So it would truly be a shame if these points would come to light in the investigation of my return to YUA just months before the university sports festival. I do look amazing in Ice Blue you know. Matches my quirk a lot better than Maroon." You put the ball in his court, he is visibly upset, eyes flying to the facts that you've presented. All important, viable facts. You were right MMU was known to be a male dominated school and the media would have a field day if they uncovered a mistake he happened to look over. Not to mention you were his main bragging point, Dean Yuzi always talked about how he had stolen you, the female star of rising heroes, from YUA.  The silence in the room is amplified by the ticking of the clock, seconds accumulating into minutes as it counts down his T time with his old college buddy and rival. He gulps nervously, knowing what he has to do in order to keep both his bragging rights and a law suit under wraps. He looks up to you as you wear your stone cold face, making him think of a loan shark who hasn't been getting their payments on time. He is fearful for your future boss.  
"I believe I have no choice but to approve." 
"Correct." You respond, "Now we have a bit more to discuss. I noticed that classrooms 456 and 215 are being remodeled. Those gently used flat screens will be given to our house since it is technically college property. Common space 3 and 1 are being renovated in dorms A and B. We will accept the leather arm chairs as they are in good shape but we demand a new couch. I know it is in the budget as I help plan the budget. I also believe it is time for an allowance for our hybrid house." The Dean shrinks away from your tenacity, nodding as that is all he can do.  
"Well this is a generous offer and should cover most of the basic necessities such as a new fridge and mattress. The aesthetic we will be raising funds for. Kindly spread the word, we don't want to take up more of your time and be late with your 'meeting' with Dean Fraunk." You place a flyer on his desk as you turn on your heel. The rest of the sorority, mouth agape following suit. Yuzi looks down at the flyer, head hung in a mixture of disbelief and shame as he reads over the neon paper advertising a co-ed car wash. 
He just hopes you and Bakugou are worth the trouble. 
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elriel-oblivion · 4 years ago
Text
So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰
Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅
Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉
Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊
AO3
Ashes from the Deep
Part II
__
It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.
Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.
So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.
With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.
Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.
Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.
Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.
After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?
Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.
Or so everybody else kept saying.
With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.
A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.
Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.
Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.
The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.
She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.
Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'
His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.
She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'
His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.
A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.
It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.
The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.
The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.
Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.
Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.
And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.
They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.
It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.
No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.
Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.
She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.
But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?
She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.
Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.
Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.
No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.
No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.
Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -
There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.
Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.
She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'
Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.
She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'
Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?
'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?
His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'
His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.
'You want to wash my hair?'
His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?
And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?
A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?
No, she didn't want to know.
So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'
He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.
'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?
She leashed her arms.
What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?
His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'
His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.
And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.
So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.
The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter. 
'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.
Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.
As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.
He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.
Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.
He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.
Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.
Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.
After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.
This was - what was this?
She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.
She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.
Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.
He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.
'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.
___
Feedback's welcomed; thanks for reading 😊
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blaydiud · 3 years ago
Note
[ BANDAGE ]:     the sender sits down across from the receiver and begins to bandage their wounds.
"Here." Chrom seats himself across from the blond and takes out a roll of gauze and a bottle of ointment from his pack. "I know you let everyone else go first earlier, which is understandable—I do the same thing—but you have to get your own injuries tended to at some point." Offering an apologetic smile, the bluenette reaches over and begins to work at the other's wounds, dabbing at them before wrapping them up in bandages. "Sorry about this, I can't cast Heal yet, so good old patching it up it is."
It takes some time to get Dimitri's wounds all bandaged up, and in the midst of it Chrom speaks up once more. "Look, I really admire your skill, and correct me if I'm wrong, but you're fighting to protect everyone else as well, right? It's just... how do I put it? You have people who care about you, like your buddies from Faerghus. It's good to fight to protect them, but please also keep in mind that they would be tremendously hurt if you were ever killed." He chuckles. "I know it sounds odd, but I tend to fight a little recklessly myself, and I have to be reminded that... well..." He sighs, sobering. "That my friends and family would miss me dearly if I died... Naga knows I already know what that's like—er, sorry, I'm probably oversharing. Or maybe I'm being too forward? I hope I'm not bothering you or making you uncomfortable..."
Ducking his head, he finishes up with the last of the wrapping. "There, that should hold you until we can get you to a healer. I, uh... I hope I did an acceptable job?"
settling dust. | accepting!
It became a bit of a rough mission the moment a crest beast decided to show up. A smaller one- but Dimitri didn’t dare to underestimate them and ended up glad that he didn’t, because in the end although the beast was defeated and they all managed to return within the day, the entire group was injured in some form. Students that could cast healing magic were rushing to help their friends and classmates as monastery nurses urged them to not push themselves too much.
Dimitri actively refused for his wounds to be tended to- not if there were others in pain still. He was blessed with a crest and his father’s strength, he could take on a few more minutes or hours with injuries.
These other students deserved healing more than he did, anyway. He was a house leader and it was his fault for getting this injured in a mission- his skills should be way sharper than this.
“Chrom, you do not have to...” Yet he didn’t move when his fellow lion began wrapping up the wounds on his upper arm and shoulder. “Are you hurt? If yes, then please seek one of the nurses. I shall not receive treatment until all of my classmates are well.” But his words held no effect, apparently. Chrom’s determination won with ease, earning a sigh from the prince. “It...is okay. I cannot cast healing magic either.”
He listens to each of Chrom’s words with care, icy pools fixated on the blue-haired lion’s hands caring for his wounds as he spoke. Dimitri had heard something similar from his uncle, a year or so ago. About how he had to live for the sake of Faerghus and its people, how he shouldn’t be so reckless with his wellbeing and health.
" It's good to fight to protect them, but please also keep in mind that they would be tremendously hurt if you were ever killed."
Would they really? Would they shed tears if a boar like him found himself impaled on someone’s blade?
Dimitri was a living crown and a dead beast. The person was nowhere to be found- because it didn’t matter. Nobody ever sought him. Why would they weep over his fall? Wouldn’t it be bitter disappointment instead- that he failed to prove himself to be a proper leader? Or rather relief, that a bloodthirsty beast like him was finally felled?
Chrom spoke with his heart, but Dimitri found it difficult to grasp on to it. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You are a very good person, Chrom.” Far too good to be caring for a wretch like me. “I am sure your friends and family must love you very dearly.” Gently circumvent his words and line it with a smile. You don’t need to drag him down with you.
“Ah...your job was absolutely fantastic. I am grateful for your help- and...I also apologize for my recklessness.” He pushed out a laugh. “I promise to do better next time.”
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rightsockjin · 4 years ago
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Summary:  Jimin spent all of his time practicing for the performance at roller rink on skates. And he means ALL of his time. He was a little frustrated to say the least. Won’t someone lend him a hand? Or possibly... a mouth?
Rating:M
Genre:SMUT! Tiny fluff if you squint.
Warnings: HARD BLOWJOB YALL! Female oral receieveing and giving. Partially public. Slight Exsobitonist. Sexual activities in a public bathroom. Loud Jimin! Slight soft Dom. Mentions of “ruining” reader. Little experiences reader. Panty theif! Gagging. Oppa!
Word count:4,444
Author’s notes: I’m so soft for Jimin:( This turned out much sweeter than I intended but I'm not at all mad at it.  Its kinda cute and I'm down for it.
 Jimin’s pants were long and wide at the bottom so that his skates would be partially covered by the fabric. It wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t like his boss was harping him about wearing bell bottoms. On the contrary, he usually got reprimanded for his choice in pants because it was out of uniform, but Jimin thought that it gave him a little umph! It made him look like he was gliding across the roller rink. He looked ethereal. At least that’s what they had told him. Duh its jimin
        But, he thought as he looked at you as your mouth bobbed up and down on his shaft and soft moans caught in your throat, there was no way he looked anywhere near as majestic and ethereal as you did under the fluorescent lights of the food stand.
        His toned thigh muscles clenched as you sucked your cheeks in and pushed your head even farther down on his shaft. A high pitched moan was ripped out of his plush lips. A little bit of drool embarrassingly dripping from the corner of his mouth. His thick hand was placed gingerly in your blown out hair, every once in a while tightening and guiding you up or down.
        A little bit of saliva dribbled down from your mouth. You noisily slurped it up. Normally, you would try to keep it down in a place so public but after Jimin had performed his elaborate routine, the entire place emptied and the cameras couldn’t see behind the counter and had no sound, so you weren’t worried.
        “Fuck!” And it seemed that neither was Jimin.
        His feet were covered completely by the dark jeans, his green and white bomber jacket hung on the back of the metal chair that squeaked every time he jolted against your hold. And Jimin was one of those men that like to thrust up into your throat. You gagged as he thrust particularly hard into the soft part of your throat. The muscles constricted around its more than average length.
        “Yes baby right there,” he groaned, forcing past your reaction. His hips flush against your lips. You squeezed your thumb in your hand, a hail mary that you had read about somewhere on the internet that was supposed to stop you from gagging too harshly but Jimin’s erection was too hard and too thick for it to work.
        Slightly disappointed, you tapped his thigh so he would let you up for air. Jimin held you for only a second longer. Then his hand let go of your head and he situated his ass back on the squeaky chair effectively pulling a good amount of his erection out of your mouth. You pulled your head up the rest of the way. He slipped out of you ungracefully, coated in your spit, gleaming with the purple and blue of the lights.
        Not wanting to pause his rising pleasure, you wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave a few experimental pumps. It was slick. Despite how much your throat hurt after how deep he’d pushed his member in your throat, you couldn’t help but salivate at the sight, wanting to take him back in and make him make those pretty noises again.
        “uhgnh, damn it, Y/N that’s it. How are you this fucking good at this? Even your cute hands feel better than anything I’ve ever had before…ngh…yes fuck.”
        Jimin panted, his chest rising and falling exaggeratedly. Like he’d just finished one of his four hour long rehearsals and the song he’d chosen was fast and his choreography was  extremely difficult. You had been there before, your mouth watering and your panties soaking through. There was a sort of allure that Jimin had when he was dancing on his skates. A grace you could never hope to replicate and damn it all to hell if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you had ever witnessed.
        Now you got the chance to do all of the nasty things that you had dreamed of. The fantasies you had on those numerous days watching from the side lines. Park Jimin was wasted on a place like this. If only he would audition for a company of some sort. But that was a conversation for another time.
        “Don’t stop,” he breathed, his eyes closed slightly, his lips hanging open.
        “Jimin,” you whimpered, collecting the precum from his tip on your thumb.
        “Yes baby?”
        With what looked like a great deal of effort, he raised his head and looked down at you. Your smirk was confident. Ready to please. And who could blame you when you had Park Jimin in your hands?
        Your eyes locked on his, you made a show of sucking the precum off your finger. It was salty, like the popcorn that sat behind you under a lightbulb to be kept warm even though no one ever bought any. Who wanted salt when they were sweating?
        “Are you teasing me?” He asked, his smirk mirroring your own.
        You shrug, tightening your hold slightly on his penis. It twitched in your hold and he bit his lip, holding back what looked to be a painful moan. You planted a soft kiss on the underside, letting your tongue roll on the same little section before you popped off of it.
        Then, with a cheeky smile you said, “Maybe.”
        Jimin laughed deep in his chest. His whole body convulsed. You jerked your wrist and twisted slightly as he chuckled. Almost instantly, he choked on his own laughter, his muscles once again tightening. His dick twitched in your hand. What you would give to ride him right then and there on the loud ass chair, but as it was, you were kneeling so the cameras couldn’t see you. It would be too suspicious if they caught you on tape.
        “If you would have told me you were this good, I would have fucked you months ago,” Jimin said through clenched teeth as you experimentally licked the tip of his dick like the Lollipops that you always bought from the snack stand so you could have a brief conversation with the sexy roller skater when he wasn’t on the rink.
        “I’ve had lots of practice,” you joke, your lips partially on his member.
        Jimin opened his mouth to say something but suddenly, he straightened, his back ridged and his eyes wide. Without hesitation, he yanked his green and white bomber jacket and threw it over both yourself and his exposed sex.
        Your heart began to race as you heard heavy footsteps walking up to the candy counter. You were caught. There were no if’s and’s or but’s about it. Would you get arrested? Would Jimin lose his job?
        You didn’t dare move. You forced all of your consciousness to your hearing, hoping you could hear anything that would tell you in how much trouble you both were, but what you heard made your blood run cold.
        “Great job today Jiminie,” a nasally voice that you would recognize anywhere said. It dripped with honey that to you felt tainted with what could only be described as bitterness.
        “Hey! Jess! I uh…you too,” he said, moving the chair farther under the counter. You shuffled back on your knees awkwardly, careful not to hit anything and give away your position.
        Jess. So that was her name. The many practices that you’d attended had been plagued with her as well. She was Jimin’s partner after all and, to your dismay, his ex-girlfriend.
        “Well we do make a good team,” she gushed. You scrunched your nose at that. Sure, she was a graceful dancer but she was a shit person. Any time you had tried to politely compliment her on anything she did, she’d shut you down by simply ignoring you and you had noticed that she tended to do this to any girl that spoke to her.
        “But then again, we have a,” she paused and you imagined her biting her lip and pushing her boobs together in that knotted crop top with the flouncy sleeves she’s worn for the day to entice Jimin, “special understanding of how our bodies function together right…Jimin?”
        You growled under your breath, Jimin shifted uncomfortably also understanding what Jess had meant.
        “Y-yeah, ri-right,” he laughed trying to defuse the tension he clearly felt. Just then, you realized that you still had his very much erect member in your grasp. This was your chance. She had hers and whatever the reason be, you were not going to let it slip through your hands.
        You gave his erection a solid tug. His reaction was instantaneous. He jumped in his seat, the chair scraped against the concrete floor. His legs began to shake. You imagined his pretty lips formed into a surprised ‘o’. His puffy eyes wide.
        “Got you thinking, huh?” Jess said, her voice smug. You rolled your eyes knowing that no one could see you.
        Jimin’s member hardened even more. Rock hard, maybe even painfully so. A smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in and blew softly on the sensitive skin.
        A hand found its way to your head once again but this time, he was pushing you away from his sex instead of onto it but you weren’t going to give up. The material of the jacket slipped over your hair smoothly letting you get closer towards your goal.
        “Ha, yeah uh Jess so you think we could-ah,” you licked a thick wet stripe from the base of his dick up to the tip. He was leaking like crazy. Begging you, basically, to suck him off.
        “Wow Jimin,” Jess breathed clearly thinking that his reaction was for her and not for your skilled tongue, “I didn’t realize you missed me that much. Hey,” she said conspiratorially as you licked another strip up his shaft, “why don’t you and I take off of work for a bit. No one’s around…I can take care of you if you are…up to it.”
        Without even giving him time to think over her suggestion, you opened your mouth wide and let his penis fall back in where it should have been this whole time.
        Jimin hissed from above you. A tiny, almost inaudible moan, vibrated in your throat as you closed the seal and sucked wantonly. A vein in his cock pulsed against your tongue. Jimin’s legs fell apart as if to give you more room. He’d already started to buck his hips slightly into your open mouth but this time you were determined to see it through to the end.
        “Sound like a good idea? You don’t have to say it Park Jimin. I can read you like a magazine. Meet me in the men’s room in five. I have some naughty things planned for you.”
        You let go of his erection and grabbed onto his thighs so that you could pull the last inch of his length into your mouth. Jimin tensed so violently as your gag reflex kicked off once again. It convulsed around the sensitive tip.
        “Shit,” he nearly yelled. From the annoyingly sweet giggles, Jess thought that was for her as well. You found solace in knowing that it wasn’t. Knowing that the reactions he was having were solely for you and the things you were doing to him.
        It was only when the footsteps had faded and in the distance you heard a door close a little too loudly that Jimin pulled his jacket off your head. The sight he was met with was nothing more than what he considered pure heaven. Your nose was flush against his hips. Your hands wrapped loosely on his thighs. He pulled your hair out of your face so he could more clearly see your features and were it not for his experience and many a night masturbating, he might have cum right then and there.
        Determined to keep his mind on you and not on the quick fuck he could have in the bathroom if he chose to, you began to bob your head again, this time making sure that his tip hit the soft part of your throat every time. Jimin opened his legs wider still, nearly flat to the back of the chair, to give you more room to work.
        You would have smiled had your mouth not been preoccupied. Quiet, delighted sighs rang in the air with the sound of a song that you hadn’t heard before. The lights in the roller rink dimmed slightly and a disco ball dropped down. This, you only knew because you’d seen it happen enough times in a day.
        You reached under your chin and cupped his balls in your small hand, steadily massaging them. Instantly, you felt them constrict in your grasp and Jimin’s hips, which had been lightly bobbing in time with your head, stopped entirely. You had little to no warning as he pushed your head down onto his disco stick and hardened more in your mouth. You hadn’t even thought it possible but his length fell heavy on your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. Your eyes watered as a shot of cum was pushed down your esophagus, then another and another and possibly one more. You weren’t sure. You’d zoned out so that you could stop yourself from fully barfing on him and weirdly enough, it had worked. As the last stripe of hot cum hit your throat, you pulled your head off of him and sat back on your heels, your mouth full.
        You waited patiently for Jimin to catch his breath. He was sweating slightly. The heady scent of his cum and sweat was doing wonders for your libido. Finally, with heavy lids, he looked down at you and without hesitation, you opened your mouth. Filled with his white seed, you displayed your mouth full before you winked, closed your mouth and audibly swallowed it whole.
        “You’ve got to be joking,” he groaned, covering his pretty face with his ring clad fingers, “fuck you’re so hot. Get up.” He instructed.
        You tilted your head to the side like a lost dog but he gave you no further explanation. He took one of the hands resting on your jean clad legs and gently pulled you out from under the concession stand. Now that you were out in the open, you felt a little bit self-conscious about what you had done.
        Quickly, Jimin tucked himself into his underwear, still as hard as could be, and buttoned his pants. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, his hand firmly grasping yours as he led you towards the bathrooms. Panic took over as he neared the separate restrooms, thinking he might make you have a threesome with that awful girl Jess, but with a quick wink in your direction and a shrug, he b-lined for the women’s restroom and locked the door behind him.
        Your heart calmed slightly, glad that neither you nor him were going to go to the men’s room. That is, until he turned to look at you with lust dripping from his eyes. His bulge strained against his tight jeans. All for you. The white of his shirt had become slightly patchy in some areas due to sweat. The chain around his neck hung between his pecs, his nipples clearly erect. He was sex incarnate.
        “What are we doing in the bathroom Jimin?” You asked innocently, hoping for what could only be described as the opposite of such.
        “Fuck, Angel,” he laughed taking a couple of steps towards you, his heeled boots clicking against the tiled floor, “we’re here for your turn.”
        Your doe eyes widened. Heat flushed your cheeks and excitement filled your veins. When you had propositioned Jimin earlier that day, you hadn’t thought it would lead to anything. You weren’t even expecting him to reciprocate or to even remember your name, but life was full of surprises and you had clearly done something really great in a past life to be standing there, in a roller rink bathroom with the king of sex himself, offering you a chance to fall apart at his tongue.
        “I’m going to ruin you, Angel,” he whispered, taking your cheeks in his hands and rolling your head on your shoulders. You let him maneuver you, too weak to think for yourself. He pushed your back onto the sink which had a barney purple rim around the outside that served as a table. Before you could sit yourself though, Jimin took his jacket from his shoulders and set it down as a barrier between what would soon be your bare ass and the sink table.
        “What a gentleman,” you joked, placing your hand over your heart and blinking rapidly at him.
        “Always,” he joked, squatting down so he was face to face with your jean button. He glanced up at you, making sure that you were okay with what was about to happen. You nodded eagerly, his hands working of what seemed to be their own accord to unbutton and unzip your bell bottoms. He grabbed onto the part of the jeans that began to fan out then tugged roughly.
        You held onto his shoulders and let him maneuver your pants off of you. Your heeled boots didn’t put up much of a fight. He neatly folded them and placed on the baby changing station for safekeeping and again you were struck at his thoughtfulness.
        It was when he turned around that you froze realizing that you had picked the most unsexy pair of underwear you owned. They were pure white, and high waisted like the pants you had been wearing. A tiny little bow sat right at the center of the elastic that was holding it in place. You blushed, wishing you could go back in time and tell yourself to choose literally anything other than these granny panties.
        Jimin stared at your choice of undergarments for what felt like years. His expression was blank, like he couldn’t quite make up his mind about what he wanted to do or say. You sighed, dejectedly pointing at the door. Your head down so you didn’t have to see the lust melt away from his body.
        “If you want to go with Jess instead, I understand.” She was more experienced than you were, and she had been right about one thing. She knew how Jimin’s body worked and while you had found your way around him fairly well earlier, you felt he might have more fun with someone who knew what they were doing.
        “Are you kidding me? And miss unwrapping this pretty little present? Angel, did you wear this just for me?”
        In one step, Jimin was before you, his thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes. A devious look present in his brown irises that you couldn’t place.
        “You don’t think they’re…”
        “Not even a little bit. I told you, Angel,” Jimin began, his hand traveling slowly down the valley of your breasts until it reached the elastic of your panties, “I’m going to ruin you.”
        Then he bent down, wrapping his arms around your thighs and carrying you up and onto his bomber jacket. He positioned you so that you were close to the edge to make it easier for him when he kneeled down.
        Without warning, he leaned in and took a deep whiff of your core. Humiliation thrummed through your muscles. You fought your instinct to close your legs, wanting to enjoy what he was doing.
        “Shit you smell good… and you’re so wet,” he said, more to himself than to you but the praise made you feel a little less self-conscious about the situation, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell.”
        His lips pulled over his white teeth. He planted soft, open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs as he hooked two fingers on the elastic of your underwear. On pure instinct, you pushed yourself up off your butt, holding your weight on your palms so he could slip them off your body. He balled them up and tucked them into his pants pocket with a cheeky smirk.
        “Ready for me, Angel?”
        You barely nodded before he’d leaned in, and with his eyes locked on yours, licked a thin line up from your entrance all the way to your clit. Maybe it was all the tension from before or the fact that you were inexperienced but his tongue felt like a mixture of all the good and bad things in the world. It was wet and warm and shot a spark of something equally pleasurable and painful into your stomach.
        “Eugh, fuck you taste just like honey,” he commented, diving in once again, this time flattening his tongue so it covered more surface area. Your legs convulsed at the sensation. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was smooth and yet somehow rough. Wet but not unpleasant. He did it again, pushing it harder against your folds as It got closer to your clit which you could feel pulsating with the need to be stimulated.
        “How does that feel, baby? Good? Is Jimin oppa making you feel good?”
        You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as he flicked his tongue a couple of times over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your muscles burned with need. You wanted -no- you needed more.
        Jimin sucked the top section of your lower lips into his mouth and a loud kiss noise echoed in the restroom.
        “Answer me, angel. I need to know that what I’m doing feels good.”
        “Ngh- yes,” you whimpered, trying to keep your legs open as he rubbed the middle of his tongue on your clit over and over again. The pressure was building quickly. You wouldn’t last like this. And maybe that’s what he wanted because next thing you knew, he chuckled against your pearl then clamped his plump lips around it. You felt him pull your legs over his shoulders rather than saw him because the pleasure was too strong, too pure for you to keep your eyes open.
        You locked your heels behind his head as an obnoxiously loud moan was ripped from your throat. You felt two of his fingers push your slit open only to circle your sopping wet entrance. The anticipation was killing you. You needed to be filled.
        “Please Jimin oppa,” you begged in a high pitched breathy moan, “please touch me.”
        A guttural groan vibrated against your clit. You saw stars behind your eyes as Jimin plunged two fingers into your wet opening. He worked you open slowly, his tongue and lips never letting up. Your toes began to curl and uncurl in your boots. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders as you got closer and closer.
        “Oppa,” you gasped, “I’m about to- ah,” and it happened. You could only see white behind your closed eyelids. You could feel Jimin’s fingers relentlessly pushing in and out of you at a good pace to help you ride out your orgasm. Over stimulation set in so quickly that your head spun and your body twitched. Your legs flew open trying to push him off of you with blind gestures and groans and moans.
        Jimin got the message and pulled his lips off your sensitive skin and slowly pulled his fingers out of your entrance. He stood, towering over you. He brought his fingers up so that you could see them and spread them wide like your legs had. Thick strings of your arousal clung to them, falling into his rings.
        “Wanna share?” He asked, sucking his index finger into his mouth and licking it clean. He moaned erotically, like it was the best dish he had ever had, then held out his middle finger to you. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth wide enough for him to slip his finger in between your lips.
        To your surprise, he had been right. You did taste sweet, almost like honey with a little bit of musk or something you couldn’t place. You greedily sucked all of your essence from his finger before you let him pull it out of your mouth.    
        “That’s a good girl,” he praised turning the fossette on and quickly washing his hands, “did you like it, Angel?”
        “Mhm,” was all you could manage as he turned over and grabbed your pants. He began to slip them on each of your legs when you realized that he hadn’t put your underwear back on. You pointed this out to him, with curious confusion and he only laughed.
        “Those are mine now. What am I supposed to do the next time I need some help and you’re not around? Be a good girl and pull your pants up for me.”
        You weren’t exactly happy about having to forgo your undergarments, but a part of you found it incredibly hot that he wanted them so you sucked up your pride and stood, pulling your pants up and buttoning them. It was slightly uncomfortable, especially since you were still a little sensitive from your orgasm but when Jimin placed his bomber over your shoulder followed by his hand, you didn’t remember to care.
        You smiled up at him, and he smiled down at you. A gleam in his puffy eyes, made you want to ravage him again.
        “Next time,” he whispered in your ear, “I’ll show you what I can really do.”
        Next time. There would be a next time! Jimin unlocked the bathroom door and opened it at the exact same time as the door to the men’s room opened. Out came a very confused looking Jess, her shirt unknotted and her hair seemingly disheveled. When her eyes landed on Jimin’s arm around you, her features turned to anger.
        In a burst of confidence, you reached into Jimin’s pocket and pulled out your white panties. You waved them around like a flag, smirked at her shocked expression, then tucked them back into his pocket so that they hung out slightly. You wrapped an arm around Jimin’s waist before you sent a wink her way.
        Jimin only chuckled as he walked you back to the main lobby. People were starting to come back to the roller rink. Jimin sighed, pushed the underwear farther into his pocket and clicked on the giant outdoor sign as it had started to get dark.
        “I’ll call you later, okay, Angel?”
        “You better,” you confirmed, turning to leave as the first customer opened the door.
        Jimin greeted them with his usual greeting as you walked out into the night, “Welcome to Dynamite Roller Rink, what size skates can I get you?”
Read the rest here!
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cherrytdatt · 5 years ago
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Sadness Ritual pt. 3
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Word count: ~3.6k
Summary: Will Harrison's engagement party solve things between Y/N and Tom?
Warnings: N-O-T-H-I-N-G!
A/N: PART 3 IS HERE!!! after struggling a lot I finally did it. Part of this was inspired by the engagement scene in 'set it up' also know as my favorite rom-com ever so think about that vibe! I hope you guys like it. I really liked.
Playlist: No playlist...I heard so many things...It was a rollercoaster!
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Part 1 | Part 2
Three months ago, at 3 am, Tom stood in your kitchen and said the words you wished for months to hear from him. And yet, you felt your entire chest hurt, and you couldn't look at him. You sent him home, and since then, you didn't see him again. But now, the inevitable was coming. Anna and Harrison's engagement party is in one day. You're the maid of honor, and Tom is the best man. Anna asked you if you would be okay seeing him again and, to be honest, you don't know, but it’s her engagement party. You won't deny the presence of her fianceé's best friend and best man.
"Ready for the party?" Anna asked while you two looked at some dresses in some store.
The party would be something small, just family and friends, in Tom's backyard. You wanted to help, but going to Tom's house, knowing he would be there, wasn't in your plans.
"Yeah! I'm so happy for you. And Harrison. Since your first date, I knew you two would get married," you said with a smile. "I remember I said I would be a shitty maid of honor," you said with a laugh. "And Tom said he would be a great best man," your smile faded a little when you thought about Tom.
"Did you talk to him?" Anna asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," you said simply.
"Harrison said he's feeling better, but still misses you," Anna said with a weak voice.
You cleared your throat. "I miss him too," you said almost in a whisper.
"Why don't you talk to him?" she asked.
"I don't know. Things got pretty bad between us. I'm still sad with him, and I'm sure he is sad with me too," you said, and the sadness in your voice was almost palpable.
"I'm sure he forgave you. And I think you already forgave him. You're just afraid," she said.
"Maybe. Let's see how mad I'll be when I see him tomorrow," you chuckled, but your voice was still sad. "D-do you...hum...do know what happened...to the girl?
"Oh, please! He ended things with her the morning after your fight, and never saw her again," Anna said.
"What you think of these?" you asked, putting a black floral dress in front of you, and changing the subject to hide how happy that information made you.
"Loved," she said animatedly.
"I'll try it," you said, going into the dressing room.
You didn't wanna think about Tom and all the situation now, but the talk with Anna got stuck into your head. 'He still misses you'. Her voice was louder and clearer than when you talked. You decided to buy the black dress for Anna's party. Thank God she chose a very casual party, so you could go with comfortable clothes.
"I see you tomorrow," Anna said goodbye, leaving you in front of your building.
You got into your apartment, still thinking about your talk with her. You missed Tom, more than anything in your life, but every time you thought about those pictures, and the fact that he did all that even though he liked you, you felt a strange and bitter feeling in your stomach. All you wanted was to talk to him and solve things, but you felt so afraid of what he would do and what he was willing to do to make things better. 
You used the rest of your night writing some essays you had to finish this week and watching some comedy on TV.
'Hey. How are you? I just wanna say that I can't wait to see you tomorrow. And I want you to know that I'm cool if you decide not to talk with me. I just want you to be okay 🙂' Tom's message took your attention away from the TV. You stared at the text, not knowing what to say. Of course, you wanted to see him, but talk to him would be the best thing? You really didn't know.
'Hi. I'm great. And you? I'm okay talking to you tomorrow,' you typed, throwing the phone on the other side of the couch like it was a bomb ready to explode. "Fuck!" you said, noticing the smile that appeared in your face.
'I'm good. That's good. I miss talking to you. How crazy it is that our friends are getting married?!@#$' The bleep from your phone made you smile again, and you reached for it, reading his text.
'Crazy as shit! We're not old enough for this,' you ignored the first half of the text on purpose. You missed him, but you weren't ready to let him know that yet.
'I keep saying this to Harrison, but he doesn't listen to me lol. But they love each other very much. Harrison showed me his speech, and I cried like a baby,' he said, and you laughed, remembering how easy it was for him to cry. He had a playlist just for that.
'Well, It's not that hard to make you cry lol. I chose not to hear Anna's speech. I wanted to be a surprise,' you confessed. She told you it would be very emotional, so you decided to enjoy with everyone else at the party.
'I don't cry that easily. I didn't even cry in my last movie,' he said, and you remembered you didn't watch the movie with him because the release happened when you were not talking.
'Congratulations on the movie, btw. I heard it's very good,' you said, confessing you didn't watch it. The real reason for you not to watch you weren't confessing. You didn't wanna hear see him or hear his voice. It was too painful.
'You didn't watch it yet? 😱' he asked, and you could see the shocked and offended look on his face.
'I'm sorry. I didn't have time,' you lied.
'We need to change this! This is unacceptable!' he said, and you wanted to invite him over to solve things once and for all. You wanted to sit in front of the TV, with Tom by your side, like you always did, and watch as many movies as possible.
'I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow at the party,' you cut him off before he could ask anything else, and Tom noticed that. Because in one minute he was smiling at his cellphone, just about to ask you to watch a movie with him, and now he was staring at your last text, questioning everything he could've said or done to make things different.
"Hey, mate. Are you okay?" Harry asked, entering the TV room, and seeing his brother with a weird face, ignoring the TV.
"Yeah. Just...talked to Y/N," he said, pointing at his phone.
"Really? How did it go?" Harry asked, genuinely interested. He saw his brother whining and moping around the house for the last three months. After the pictures got released, Tom freaked out. He had to go to therapy, you stopped coming to their house, and he wasn't that cheerful guy anymore. Now, he was in a good place. Not like before, but he was getting there. And talk to you was the last step to make everything go back to normal.
"It was going back to normal, but then she shut me down. Not aggressively. She just didn't give me the opportunity to make things as normal as before," he said.
"Oh! I'm sorry, man. But that is better than nothing, right?" Harry shrugged. "And you are seeing her tomorrow. Who knows what can happen?" he smiled, and his brother did the same.
To say that this night was hard was an understatement. Tom couldn't sleep. He scrolled through his entire timeline on Instagram, watched a movie, then another one, ate, played video game, and when there was nothing else to do, he decided that 5am was a good time to go to the gym. But not even that helped him relax. He could feel every fiber in his body suffering from anxiety. Tea with his mom after lunch was the only thing that kept his mind calm for a few hours. After that, he went home to get ready for the party. 
There was no set of clothes in his closet that worked. Nothing was good enough. "Hey..." Anna called him from the door. "Want some help?" she offered.
"No. I know you have other things to do. I don't wanna bother you," he said with a smile.
"Not a chance. Everything is settled and I'm ready. Harrison is the one taking forever," she rolled her eyes. "I can help you," she said, getting into his room, and sitting in his bed. "What are your choices?" she asked.
"I don't have any," he scratched his neck, a little embarrassed.
"I think I know what to do," she said, getting up and going through his closet. "It will be simple..." she said, picking up a black pair of jeans and throwing at him. "But very cute..." she picked a black shirt.
"How can a black shirt with a black pair of jeans be cute?" he asked, looking at the clothes she gave him.
"Please..." she rolled her eyes. "You'll look cute," she picked a black cardigan, that he rarely used, and gave it to him. "And will match with the maid of honor, cause she's wearing black too," she finally gave him a white sneaker and a pair of glasses that he liked to use as a fashion statement.
"I'll match the maid of honor?" he asked, biting his bottom lip, trying not to smile.
"Perfectly!" Anna said with a happy smile.
Tom looked at the ground. "I talked to her yesterday," he said, putting the clothes on the bed before Anna could leave.
"And?" Anna said expectantly.
"I was just telling her she didn't need to talk to me today if she didn't want to. But, she said she was okay talking to me," his shrug was trying to sound like he didn't care, but his smile was showing the truth.
"I think you two will work things out," Anna said with a smile, leaning in the doorway.
"I hope so. I miss her so much, it's physically painful sometimes," he confessed with a sad voice.
"I know. I'm rooting for you," Anna said, going to him, and giving him a hug.
"Thanks," he said, and she smiled, leaving him alone.
Soon, the house was getting crowded. The backyard was decorated with fairy lights and wooden furniture. The waiters and waitresses walked around the house, serving beer and pizza.
Tom tried to distract himself, talking to as many people as he could. His mom, dad, and brothers were there since they were practically Harrison's family. His mom was feeling his son's anxiety.
"Are you okay?" she whispered to him.
"Great," he said, but his voice sounded anxious. He kept moving his weight from one foot to another. "She'll be here soon," he said.
"I know. And you'll let her be. Otherwise, you'll scare her," she said.
"Yeah...sure," he agreed. He glanced at the door as he did at least fifty times in the last hour, and for his surprise, this time you were there, taking off your jacket, revealing the black floral dress Anna said you would wear. And you two were matching. Tom's smile grew wilder unconsciously. You talked to some guests that were inside the house and then went outside, joining Anna and Harrison. You looked like an angel. Tom couldn't believe he survived all this time away from you. You looked at him for a second, and he saw Anna whispering something to you. You smiled, widely, and Tom felt like he had won the night.
You walked toward him, going to talk to his family. You didn't see Nikki for so long. You missed drinking tea with her, talking about your life, asking for advice.
"Hey, Ms. Holland," you greeted her.
"Hi, sweetie. Long time, no see,' she said, hugging you.
"Yeah. I was...busy," you said, looking at Tom for a split second and then to her again.
"I imagined. How is everything going? College. Work. Life?" she asked.
"Pretty much the same. I meant to call you a few times in the last months, but I didn't wanna bother you," you said sincerely. You really thought about calling and talking to her.
"Don't be silly. I would've loved talking to you," she said with a kind smile. "Let's have lunch this week. What do you think?"
"I would like that very much," you said, relieved that she didn't hate you after all the drama.
"Dom, look who is here," she said, calling her husband's attention. He said goodbye to the person he was talking to, engaging in conversation with you two. Sometimes your eyes met Tom's, and he noticed a sparkle in them every time you did. He didn't say anything while you were talking to his parents. He didn't want to upset you. "If you excuse us, darling, we're gonna talk to some friends," Nikki said, caressing your arm.
"Sure, go ahead," you said with a smile. They left, and it was just you and Tom.
"Hi," he said softly, trying to contain his excitement.
"Hey," you said, scratching the label of the bottle you were holding, anxiously.
"You look really good," he said, drinking a sip of his beer after.
"Thanks. You too," you were avoiding his eyes.
"Anna helped me choose this," he pointed to his clothes.
"It looks good," you smiled, finally looking in his eyes.
Tom couldn't hold it anymore. His mind wanted to keep it cool, but his mouth was faster. "I miss you. Everyday," he said. You looked at him, and all your worries were dead. All you could think was how much you missed him and how much you wanted him back in your life.
"I..." you started.
"Okay, everyone...it's toast time," Anna said clinking her glass with a fork. You and Tom looked at each other. Tom was afraid he had ruined his only chance. You were sad cause you couldn't tell him you missed him too.
"I'll go first," Harrison said, and some people cheered. "So...Anna. What can I talk about Anna?" he joked. "I'm kidding. I'll just say that the first time Y/N brought you around," he looked at you, raising his bottle, and you smiled. "That day, I knew I would marry you. I didn't say anything cause we were all friends, and I didn't want to scare you. But then, we were watching England's game at the 2018 World Cup, and when we lost, you cried. At that moment, I knew I had do something to make you mine, cause we were made for each other. Two months later I asked you out, and we started dating. Now I'm happy to say that we're gonna cry over the English team together, forever," he said the last part, looking at her. Everyone around cheered and applauded them and Anna gave him a quick kiss.
"Okay, now it's my turn," Anna said, taking a step forward. She was a showoff. "Are you ready to cry?" she asked, looking at him, and he smiled, nodding. I thought I would never find someone that I loved enough to ignore their flaws and accept spending my life with them. Unlike from you, when we first met, I thought great eyes, great body," she laughed, looking at him. "We could be friends. I mean, Tom and Y/N were always together. It wasn't like we could ignore each other," she said, and you and Tom looked at each other. A bit of sadness in your eyes, thinking about how that part wasn't true anymore. "But then, I got to meet you better, I started to see your flaws, and yet, dislike you wasn't an option even if I tried. My grandma always said 'we like because...we love despite...' I like you because you're nice to me, you are my best friend and you always search for me in a room when someone tells something funny, just to see my reaction. And I love you despite you being the last one to get ready, your gym schedule, and all the times you yell 'Wonderwall' in my ear, even though you know I hate this song," she finished. Her eyes were glistening with tears, just like everybody else. It took a few seconds for people to start cheering and clapping them. Harrison hugged her, with a wide and bright smile.
"Great speech," you said, going to her and Harrison, and hugging them. Tom following right behind you.
"I almost cried again," Tom said, hugging Harrison.
"Almost?" Anna asked, her thumbs brushing the corner of his eyes, cleaning a tear that threatened to fall.
"It was a really good speech," he defended himself.
"Thanks," she smiled. "We're gonna talk to...some people. We see you guys later?" she said holding your hand, and you and Tom nodded.
"We're gonna eat something," he said, resting his hand on your lower back, and they left. "Can we talk?" he asked, once Harrison and Anna left.
 "Yeah, sure!" you said, and he noticed the anxiety in your voice. At least he wasn't the only one that was afraid.
He walked to his room, opening the door so you could go in first. You walked to the window, looking at the party that was happening downstairs.
"It looks really good from here," you said. "They are so happy," you smiled, watching Harrison and Anna dance together.
"I'm happy to see you," he said, cutting you off. "I've missed you. Everyone did," his hands were in his pockets, and he was trying to stay calm even though his heart was loud in his ear.
"I missed everyone too. It was good to see your mom," you said, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. The room went silent. Tom didn't wanna push you, but he wanted to be with you and talk like before. Maybe he didn't think this through. The only noise was the music from the party. "I'm sorry," you said, taking a step forward, and Tom looked at you, waiting. You were nervous. "I'm sorry for pushing you away the way I did," your voice was heavy. "We were both sad and broken-hearted, and I was selfish. I only thought about the pain I was feeling. I'm sorry for ignoring your feelings," you said, and Tom felt his heart beating faster. He never thought about that night this way. He always thought about how much pain he caused you and how guilty he was feeling.
"I should've talked to you. I was so focused on the reasons why we couldn't be together," Tom said, taking a step in your direction. "I never thought about the reasons why we could," he confessed. These last three months he thought a lot about what he did wrong, and not talking to you sooner, giving you the chance to decide if you two could work, was his biggest mistake. "I was a coward. With you, with me, with that girl," his voice was trembling. "And I regret every day for what I did," he finished. You were looking at him, and your expression was unreadable. Even for him, that knew you for half of his life.
"I love you, and I," you started, but then you stopped. Your eyes blinking heavily. "I love you," you repeated after a few seconds, touching your lips with your fingers, looking away from him. It was like you could touch every word. "I...I love you!" you said like you just realized that. You had told him that before, but you were so hurt that you never let yourself feel that completely. Now, standing here, with nothing in your way, that was all you could feel. "I love you..." you smiled, looking at Tom that still had a lost look in his face. "I love you!" you said one last time like you were declaring your feelings for him.
Without giving you a chance to say it again, Tom walked the two steps that were keeping you apart, holding your face in his hands, and kissing you. It was urgent and frantic at first, but then you felt your heart slowing down and it was like the entire world was in slow motion. Your hand went to his waist, holding his sweater, while his fingers tangled in your hair, one of his hands holding your neck, deepening, even more, the kiss.
"I love you too," he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss. He smiled, looking into your eyes. "And I really think we should go on a date."
~
1 year and 7 months later...
"Lunch is ready," Sam called from the kitchen, and soon footsteps and a door closing were heard upstairs.
"Y/N! You're cheating!" Tom yelled.
"Stop whining. I just closed the door!" you yelled back, running down the stair.
"Racing again?" Sam asked, seeing you enter the kitchen breathless.
"He said he would clean the room if I won," you shrugged. You yelped, feeling Tom lifting you up by the waist. "NO! PUT ME DOWN!" you yelled. 
"You cheated!" he said, carrying you to the backyard and locking you out. He pointed and laughed at you through the glass door.
"I can't believe you are doing this. Let me in. I'm hungry!" you said, crossing your arms on your chest.
"If you wanna get in you'll have to do three things first," he said.
"They are being idiots again?" Harry asked entering the kitchen and seeing you two.
"What's going on?" Harrison asked, and Harry pointed to the glass door.
"Idiots," Anna said sitting on a chair around the dinner table.
"What three things?" you asked.
"First, you'll apologize for cheating," he said and you rolled your eyes. "Second, you'll help me clean the room. And third," he put his hand on his pocket, taking out a black velvet box. He opened the box, revealing a ring, and your eyes grew wider, noticing what was happening. "Marry me?" he said, and you covered your mouth in shock, just like everyone else behind him.
"Yes!" you said, feeling your eyes burning. "Yesyesyes!" you repeated, nodding frantically, while he opened the door, pulling you into a hug.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
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