#i like blanked out at 2am last night and wrote this

[phantomskeep]

WIP Wednesday - Fun In Funeral

For my DCxDP Dead On Main thief!Danny fic, Putting The "Fun" Back In "Funeral". Best read while listening to Ascensionism by Sleep Token

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“I am not a cat boy!” The boy wearing a cat skull protested.

“Then what are you, a discount Catwoman?” Jason asked as he prowled closer to the pouting thief.

“I don’t even know who that is!” Cat Boy continued to lie. “This,” he gestured to the bone-colored mask covering his face, Lazarus green eyes narrowing in distaste, “Is a fashion statement. Nothing more, nothing less. I just- I don’t even know why it’s a cat!”

None of that really made sense to Hood, but keeping a criminal monologuing? Part of Robin 101 - the more they’re distracted, the better chance at them messing up. “So why a cat, then?”

“I just said I don’t know!”

Hood didn’t respond, catching the cat-themed-thief’s stance relaxing by a miniscule amount. With no hesitation, Jason lunged forward - fully intending to football-style tackle the pouting figure into the concrete roof.

In the next few seconds, Jason would recount later to the rest of the Birds and Bats, he had no idea what happened.

He was in the air - arms outstretched to wrap around the other’s torso in a mockery of a hug. He saw the thief’s eyes widen, a startled yelp leaving his mouth. When Hood flew closer to the occultly-dressed thief, it was like a rush of sparkling heat bubbled up through his lung, tearing viciously at his esophagus before laying stagnant in his covered mouth. Already caught off guard, Jason sputtered - failing to land the tackle onto the lithe man in front of him. Instead, Jason fell a few inches short of the man, on his knees with his gloved hands clutching desperately at his throat and chest.

The other didn’t hesitate to dance out of Hood’s reach as the helmeted vigilante coughed in a vain attempt to clear his airways from the heat-sparkle-power-danger that welled inside him. Not-Catwoman stood to the side, head cocked like a curious crow inspecting a shiny coin. While Hood was still doubled over catching his breath, the thief wisely used the opportunity to glide further out of reach.

“I’m almost scared to ask if you’re okay,” Catboy’s voice echoed around them. “But then again… You did just try to shoot me.”

“It was just a warning shot.” Hood coughed out, his words scratchy as he forced them past the invisible sludge that lodged itself in his throat. The Pit Rage stirred in the back of his mind, slowly creeping to the area it used to occupy and whisper. “Give back whatever you stole before I shoot you for real.”

The cloaked man rocked on his heels, jutting his hip out and tapping at his chin with a clothed finger. Hood couldn’t see Catboy’s full expression, but he had long since perfected the art of reading masked individuals when he was thirteen and still wearing Dick’s old scaly panties. The person in front of him was practically radiating smug little sibling vibes.

“How about,” the modulated voice drew out. “I don’t, and I continue on with my extremely successful handjob!”

Jason spluttered in confusion, caught halfway between howling in laughter or rage, as the cat-themed thief jumped off the museum’s roof. The sound of a grapple rang out as the little criminal soared into the polluted Gotham skies. The Rage screamed, pushing Jason’s limbs to take off without a second thought. Green overcame his vision as the high came tearing back in full force, dragging Jason down like a man caught in an undertow. His body gave chase to the masked individual running from the museum, racing across the darkened rooftops in hot pursuit.

The Pit Rage stuck its greedy claws into Jason’s mind and pulled. What happened around him became a green-tinted blur - flying after the thief’s form, firing pot shots when the two were parkouring along the Gotham skyline, a strained voice shouting as the bullets missed. The overwhelming sensation of rage-rage-chase-friend-predator-rage-fight-fear-play-rAGE drowned out any sense of rational thought. It was like Jason was in the backseat again, watching as he lost control of his life as the choices he made as a teen came back to haunt him in divine punishment. He fought against it, just like he did when the Rage took his body to the Titans Tower. Like when he was so beneath the power of the Pit that he took out everything on a highschool kid. All the progress he had made over the last three years - washed away because of a man in a catsuit.

The mere hours he had of quiet peace almost made fighting against the Rage so much harder - Jason knew what it was like again, to not have to battle against his own thoughts every second of the day. To not look at a single act of kindness as some convoluted plot to trap him like a feral, rabid dog. The void in his chest, a grief-stained black hole of bad decisions, warred with the Rage for its own spot in the young man’s own tale of self-sought retribution against himself.

This? This was Jason’s own personal hell. To be alone, trapped inside his mind, while his body was controlled by a green-tinted monster. When his actions were no longer dictated by himself and the worst parts of him came out to play.

When Jason finally wrestled back control, kicking and screaming and fighting his own thoughts like it was the only thing he knew how to do, he found himself leaning against someone’s rooftop greenhouse, alone. The cloaked thief was nowhere in sight, and the ex-crime lord hesitated against nosing around for hints of where he might have absconded off to.

Based on a familiar stretch of cargo cranes, he deduced that he ended up between Gotham University and the docks. The black-haired man took a moment to himself, checking to see how many rounds he had fired (eight, he had emptied an entire clip, because of course he did) and if there was any blood clinging to his uniform (not his, never his, why was it never him–). When he wasn’t able to find anything, Jason forcefully shook out his body, trying to get rid of the built-up tension and stress. It helped him relax, marginally, but did nothing for the painful pressure behind his eyes pounding in time with his heart. The Pit Demon lounged in the back of his brain, oozing an air of self-satisfaction that made Jason want to claw at his own head until it stopped.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shoulders sagging. This entire situation was… not good. Jason didn’t even want to think about talking to the rest of the Bats about this, but. It had been a long time since an episode that bad. He didn’t know if he could control himself if something else set him off, but he wasn’t prideful enough to risk innocent people to a Rage-filled Red Hood.

[oddballwriter]

The New Teacher’s Aid

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Summary: Mike has Abby signed up to be part of the after school program at her school since he can’t pick her up due to him working, there’s nothing too special about it until a staff member catches his eye and he tries to explain it without thinking the obvious. 

Warnings: Reader is kept gender neutral and is a teacher’s aid and member of the staff that work in the after school program. This is in second person perspective at first but shifts at times. “Y/n” is used two times in here. Mike has a crush on you lol. I actually can’t think of many things that are actual warnings but if there are any just let me know

Author’s Snip: Surprise! I’m alive! I’ve been relaxing since I took the summer semester off to unwind from my first year of college. Anyways, I’m sure some, if not most, of us have seen the teaser and trailer for the FNAF movie. I’ve been seeing people going bonkers over Mike and William and so have I a little. This thought came to me last night and I wanted to write it so bad but it was 2am then and I had things I needed to do with family so I wrote it down in my notes so that I didn’t forget. 

Notes: This is sort of meant to be before Mike takes up the job at the abandoned plazeria. And I just saw that there are some implications that Abby walks/rides a bike home to and from school but I’m just going to ignore that because I can and because then this shot doesn’t really work. So yeah. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

  You’ve been working at the school for a month and a half now as a teacher’s aid and an additional member of the staff that work in the after school program. The program wasn’t much if you had to be honest, it was pretty much just babysitting kids who didn’t get picked up once school was over. 

  You weren’t complaining though, but then again, you worked in the spare classroom with the older kids rather than the younger ones. This group wasn’t too much of a hassle. Usually these kids would talk, do their homework, or some quiet activity and rarely cause any trouble. That’s how you met a little girl named Abby. 

  Abby was like the other kids who minded their own till their parent or guardian came to pick them up. You noticed that she didn’t interact with any of the other kids and either drew or did her homework quietly at a desk. You decided to check on her. Now you two have formed a really nice bond. You usually help her with her homework or talk about whatever comes to mind which helped pass the time since she was one of the kids that stayed the whole time the program operated. 

  Speaking of which, it was rolling around that time. You knew that the person who usually gets her is always here when the clock hits  five pm but it always makes you a little worried that they won’t come since after five there wasn’t meant to be any students still on campus. 

  “Okay, last one. What do you think?” you say, you were helping Abby finish up a tricky math sheet. Abby stared at the problem for a moment and worked it out on a blank space next to it before writing down the answer she came up with. “There you go! Great job. Now you’re all done, you don’t need to do any at home.” you smile. Just then you hear a knock at the door to the room. When you turn, you see a man in his mid twenties or early thirties standing in the doorway. You stand up to go talk to him but you hear Abby chirp “Hi, Mike!” to the man. He gives her a nod as a hello back as you grab a clipboard and walk up to him. 

  “Hello. Can I get a name?” you ask. This was common check out protocol whenever someone came to pick up a child from the program. “Mike Schmidt.” he responds. You nod and check the name that’s correlated with Abby, it checks out. “And the password?”, that was another part of the protocol. He says the correct one and you smile with a nod before letting him sign his name as the last part of the process. 

  By then Abby had already packed up her things and skipped over to Mike and took a hold of his hand to leave. “Goodbye, Abby!” you wave. She waves back with some more energy to it, “Bye, (y/n)!”. You give a wave back to Mike as well out of courtesy, “Goodbye, Mr. Schmidt.”. He gives you a small wave goodbye too as he leaves with Abby by his side. 

  With Abby gone home, you were set to pack everything in the classroom so that you could leave. You usually did this earlier but the other staff member went out and hadn’t come back yet, so you needed to keep an eye on Abby. Usually they checked Abby out to Mike, who you were told was her older brother, so she could go home. But since they still weren’t back, you met him for the first time. You were a bit surprised to finally see him. He was actually older than you thought he would be. The age minimum for someone who could pick up a child was sixteen and that Mike met that requirement, but you thought that he would be younger. Turns out he’s around the same age as you.

  Abby actually told you a lot about Mike. As already mentioned, he was her older brother. She also told you that he works and that the two of them live together. She’s also told you about how cool he is but that’s a given since most younger siblings think that their older siblings are cool. 

  You didn’t think too much about Mike after that, but strangely enough, Mike spent a good part of the evening thinking about you.

  “Are they a new staff member? I don’t think I’ve seen them before.” Mike asked Abby while she picked at the reheated veggies on her plate. “No, not really. They’ve been here for a while.” Abby responded. “They seem nice.” he mentioned. “They are. They help me with my homework and we talk. They even said they like my drawings!” Abby explained with a smile. “ Well, that’s nice to hear.” Mike said as he got up from his seat at the table. “You finish those off before you try and watch TV, alright?” he said with a little bit of demand as he pointed to the uneaten food on her plate before heading off to get ready for the rest of the night. 

  Soon after that, Mike had formed a habit. Everyday, just before getting out of his car to go pick up Abby, he would check himself in his rearview mirror. He would subconsciously fix any loose hair, fix up his jacket to look neater, or check for food in his teeth. He didn’t know when it started but he noticed it when he was fighting with a piece of food from his lunch earlier that day that didn’t want to leave it’s spot between his teeth. “Why am I even doing this? It’s barely noticeable.” he thought to himself. But something irked him to get it out before he got out. 

  After he finally got the pesky piece out, he stepped out of his car and made his way to the classroom that the program was held in. Abby noticed him but the staff member who came to check her out to him wasn’t you. After he gave all the information, signed, and took Abby’s hand, he found that he felt slightly disappointed that it wasn’t you this time and thought that he fought that food between his teeth for nothing. 

  The drive home consisted of silence as Abby stared out the window and Mike stewed in his thoughts on why he wanted see you every time he came in. It shouldn’t matter if it’s you, or the new teacher Miss Hill, or the old teacher Mrs. Flores, or someone who was a part of that group. 

  “Did you have fun with (Y/n) today?” Mike asked as he peaked at Abby in the rearview. Why did he ask that? “Yeah. I didn’t have a lot of homework so we spent most of the time talking while I drew.” Abby responded. “What did you talk about?” he questioned. “Not much. They talked about being a teacher’s aid and how they want to be a school teacher.” Abby commented, Mike nodded his head. “I talked about us a little. I told them that you work and take care of me.” she explained, “And they said that’s really nice of you to be doing both.” Abby referenced. Mike thought about that for a second. “Did they?” he responded. 

  The rest of the evening and night went on as normal. But Mike found that he didn’t really pay attention to the late night TV like he usually does. He was caught up on what Abby said today about you. Mike tried to brush it off but just couldn’t, and he didn’t like it all that much. It made him feel dumb. Why was he so consumed with what you thought of him, with Abby saying that you think he’s nice for taking care of his little sister and being their breadwinner and him recently starting to care about how he looked under the possibility of you and him seeing each other while he got Abby. 

  There was no way he had some stupid crush on you. You were just some staff member who took care of Abby after school and he was just her older brother. That’s all you should be to each other. 

  He thinks that while also thinking about how maybe he should pack a mini toothbrush and toothpaste tube so his lunch doesn’t end up in his breath in case you catch it next time you talk. 

[ozwriterchick]

My life is a fanfic..

Characters: Sam Wilson (Falcon/Captain America); Safia Moss (OFC); Isaiah Bradley; Elijah Bradley

Content warning: Panic attacks; flashbacks; threatened violence

AN: An idea that came to me at 2am one night and I just had to write it. Not sure if there'll be more, let me know if you'd like to see more of this story.

WC: (approx) 811

**********

You sat at your kitchen table, staring at the blank screen, willing your fingers to start tapping the keyboard and the words to start flying across the screen.

It had been a while since you posted a new story and you knew your followers were patient but you hated keeping them waiting.

The last story you wrote had gone far longer than you expected it to and you were concerned that all the words in your brain had been used up.

Actually, that’s not quite true. You knew the words were in there because you’d often  wake in the middle of the night with ideas flowing. You already suffered from broken sleep and bouts of insomnia from time to time so you really didn’t want to interrupt any sleep you got to get the idea down. 

The problem was that if you didn’t write it down then and there, by morning it would have reduced itself to a few words and the basis of your idea was mostly gone.

So, you started writing anything that came into your brain.  Random sentences about what you were thinking, hearing, seeing.  It made absolutely no sense, but it felt good to at least be typing.

What seemed like hours later, but in reality was only probably about 15 minutes, you heard a knock at your door.  You weren’t expecting anyone, you hadn’t made plans to have anyone over or go anywhere because you knew that your whole weekend needed to be spent writing and uploading a new story for your followers.

You headed towards the front door and saw your next door neighbour’s grandson.  You opened the door, taking in his worried expression. “Eli, what’s up, is everything ok?”

“No it isn’t, Saf, he’s having a panic attack and you’re one of the only people who can calm him down besides me and I am not having any effect on him”

You grab your keys, lock the door and head next door with Eli.  As soon as you walk in you see your neighbour Isaiah, throwing things and screaming at the top of his lungs.

You walk towards him slowly with your hands in front of you so he can see you’re not a threat “Isaiah, it's me Safi, your neighbour Safia.. Do you remember me?” You say in the calmest tone you can muster.

He has a large vase in his hands, raised to throw it but he hesitates when he hears your calm voice.  He looks you in the eyes, breathing heavily.  “Eli, go get a glass of water for your grandfather.”  Eli took off, going as close to the perimeter of the room as possible, to stay as far away from Isaiah and I as possible.

I felt a change in Isaiah’s breathing and knew he was calming down so I just kept eye contact but trying to keep my gaze as soft as possible so Isaiah knew he was in a safe space.  I inched closer to him and eventually was able to grab the vase out of his hand and put it on the hall bench.

I held my hand out to him and said “Isaiah, grab my hand.  It’s ok, you’re safe, you’re here with me and Eli.  We’ll keep you safe, can you sit down for me, love?”

Isaiah���s breathing was almost back to normal but his eyes were still wide and unfocused.  He sat down and put his head in his hands.  Eli brought the glass of water over to me and I held it in front of Isaiah.

“Zaya, here, please have a drink of water.”  He looked up at me then at the glass and grabbed it, skulling the whole glass full in seconds.

“Do you want some more?”  He nodded.  I handed the glass to Eli to re-fill.

“Now, once you’re ok to talk, do you want to tell me what happened?”

He nodded again and took the glass refill.  We sat silently for a few minutes and then I suggested to Eli to put on a record of his favourite music as that has always helped in the past.

He put on a best of 40’s Jazz music which had some Duke Ellington, Count Basie and Ella Fitzgerald on it.  I could see Isaiah’s shoulders relax and he lifted his head and looked at me “Thank you Saf, I don’t know what Eli and I would do without you next door.”

“Well,I’m just glad I could help.  Do you want to talk about what brought this on?”

“TV” was all he said.

“Pops turned the TV on and there was a show on about WW2 and he just froze, then after a few minutes, he spiralled down.” Elijah told me.

“Zaya, is there anyone else I can call for you?”

“Sam Wilson” he said, looking me straight in the eyes.

**********

Taglist:@cjand10@angstysebfan@psychictazzy76@lovely-geek@samanthaneedsanap@kentokaze@void-imaginations@iheartsebastianstanstuff@yourmumsluke

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[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

súton

súton; the approach of death or the end of something.

lee heeseung, a high-paid hitman was assigned for a new mission to kill somebody. he didn’t think of it as much of a big deal not until he saw the picture of his past love interest inside the folder.

genre: angst

warning: mention of guns, blood and death

word count: 3.9k

a/n: this was requested to me here and when i first saw it, i knew it was a good plot so I couldn’t really waste it. i don’t know if i wrote it well but i hope i did. i think the plot kind of changed a little and i’m so sorry for that. i hope you like it anon, please message me if you did! 🌸

with slow and heavy steps, heeseung wandered through a very quiet and dark alleyway that leads him towards an old apartment building. it was old, rusty and shabby that normal people won’t really have interest in it. but for people like him, it’s a perfect place to stay in.

as he slightly stretched his tired arm, heeseung made his way inside his apartment only to be greeted by one of his acquaintances. he seems to be a bit surprised to see him back earlier than expected.

“oh, hyung! you’re back already.” he stated something very obvious. heeseung eyed him and gave him a small nod before walking his way at the sofa not talking much.

“did you finish the job?” he asked curiously. heeseung’s eyes lazily trailed from the carpet up to the innocent looking eyes of the person in front of him.

“yeah, otherwise i won’t be here in front of you, jake.” he answered. the boy’s mouth went ‘o’ at the realization and smiled at him brightly.

“you finished the job pretty quickly, hyung! as expected from lee heeseung!” heeseung was silent as he showers him with compliments.

it may appear amusing to him right as of the moment but for heeseung, it had come to the point that it became plainly boring. as he looked over the boy in front of him who’s very excited, he kind of remind him of his past self. back when he still hasn’t kill a lot of people. 

so far, his first assignment was the most memorable mission he had. as it almost fail because he lets nervous and fear took over him. he find himself very pathetic whenever he remembers that time. after all the trainings and all, he thought he was beyond ready for his first shot. but even before he can pull the trigger, his conscience took over and he halted. 

the target almost left but thankfully he finished the job. he vomit a lot after that. he even had to re-think his life decisions after that but realizes he doesn’t have any much choice but to continue that job.

“before i forgot, hyung! a mail arrived for you yesterday.” jake marched towards a pile of mails and rummaged over it to go look for the one he’s talking about.

heeseung eyed him waiting for the said mail. he have a feeling that it’s from the organization, probably another job. he cursed inside his mind thinking that he just finished a job and here’s already a new one. they aren’t giving him any break.

“found it!” he sounded so excited as he walked towards heeseung while smiling and holding a mail.

heeseung muttered a small ‘thanks’ and carefully unwrap the mail.

“who delivered it?” he asked jake who’s just beside him, it looks like he’s curious too to what’s inside the mail.

“yeonjun hyung did.”

heeseung just gave him a small nod as he saw a familiar folder inside. this folder indicate who’s he’s next target for the job. he was used to it actually, but sometimes he thinks about until when does he needs to receive this kind of folder?

the phone rang so jake stood right up and left heeseung to answer it. heeseung on the other hand was just starring right at the folder. he doesn’t know but he suddenly have this unexplainable feeling inside of him. it was just the folder for his job and he was so sure that he’s used to it. not even once does he feel nervous to know who’s he’s target. but today seems to be different...

as he carefully lift the cover of the folder, he was dumbfounded to find the picture of the person inside. his jaw clenched as his mind wanders off to somewhere. he doesn’t know how to react when he saw someone’s picture, not just familiar but someone he really knew. it was no other than you, his only ex-girflriend.

it was past 2am when heeseung silently followed your car droved through the silent road. it was raining and he waited for almost 8 hours for you to leave your apartment. this is the first day of him watching you before he fulfill his job.

heeseung knew for a fact that even though after ending everything between the two of you and after cutting all of the ties, deep down his stoned heart, he still have feelings for you. but from now on, you are not the y/n he loved but the y/n that he needs to kill.

his brows furrowed at the sight of an unfamiliar road that you were taking. the road leads you out of the city and the sight of buildings slowly turned into big trees and the houses were starting to be apart from each other. in the  years of being with you, he never knew you know somebody here.

heeseung’s car slowed down at the sight of yours stopping. it was a long drive that it’s already 7am and the sun is now brightly shining above you. he sat back silently watching you as you went out of your car in front of this property.

he watched as you gracefully hang some hair strands over your ear and brush away some of it. you still didn’t change, your angelic face was still there and you still wear that expression of yours that makes you look so innocent. heeseung used to love that face.

his eyes darted over to a bunch of kids who’s running towards your direction. with a big smile and open arms you crouched down to hug them all. screams and giggles from the children and you quickly erupted. heeseung was just watching this unfamiliar side of you. it wasn’t the first time he saw you interact with kids but this is the first time again after splitting away from each other.

his eyes observed the surrounding and realized that you’re at an orphanage. he didn’t know why you’re here and he also didn’t know that there was an orphanage here. the place was very far from the city.

heeseung eyed your direction once more before he carefully drove his car away trying to look for a place to stay in while he watches you.

after finding a place, he sneaks back over and even roamed around the place. he’d saw the kids at the wide yard play together while you watches over them. you were smiling and it seems like you’re indeed enjoying yourself. heeseung quickly looked away right after seeing you smile. he knew to himself that he shouldn’t let his emotions took over him. he’s just doing his job.

night came faster than expected and as heeseung saw you walked outside alone, wearing a hooded jacket and your pants, he secretly followed behind you. you walked through a dark and quiet route bravely like as if you’re just taking a stroll over somewhere safe. 

as you both slowly far from the orphanage, heeseung halted as you stopped from walking and just stood still.

“i know you’re there, lee heeseung.” you said that made heeseung let out a sigh and slowly reveal himself from where he was just hiding.

“how did you know?” he asked and slowly walked towards you but still kept his distance. you turned around facing him. he met eyes with you and your features reflect from the light of the bright moon above both of you.

“saw your car following me.” you stated like as if it wasn’t a big deal.

he was left silence, doesn’t really know what exactly to say. you sighed and sat down over an old wood bench. heeseung carefully watches your every move.

“what are you doing at a place like this, y/n?” he asked and put his hands inside his pocket. your eyes trailed from him over to the beautiful moon.

“shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that, heeseung? why are you here, following me?” you asked him then looked straightly to his eyes.

heeseung kept his blank face despite the feeling of his chest tightening as he answered you.

“I am here to do my job.” he simply answered. he knew you understand what he’s trying to say. with a soft chuckle you lower your head.

“am I that important now that they sent the great lee heeseung to kill me?” you even followed it with a chuckle then looked back at him.

heeseung was serious and silent. he’s kind of pissed that you’re reacting this way even after knowing the fact that he’s there to kill you.

“so why are you here, y/n? why still go here when you already know i am following you?” heeseung leaned over a big tree beside him.

he saw you smiled a little as you turn your gaze back at him, “well, i thought i could use some fresh air before doing my job.” you said while still eyeing heeseung. you were smiling while he’s still keeping his straight face.

“you’re not the only one employed here, heeseung.” you even added and chuckled a little.

heeseung was still serious, “then why not go and observe your target now so you can do the job cleanly?” he asked still curious. he still find it odd for you to be here.

“oh don’t worry...” you said while facing down. heeseung looked at you with now furrowed brows. you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes and he doesn’t know if it’s just his mere imagination or he really did saw sorrow flickered through your eyes.

“I am pretty sure my target will follow me here.” you added.

“so you were tasked to kill me?” that came out more of a statement than a question. you scoffed and just nodded your head once.

you were dumbfounded to know that heeseung’s next target was you but it was more surprising when you were given the task to eliminate heeseung. your boss told you that he’s becoming a hindrance to your organization’s jobs. he was known for keeping it low and it’s almost impossible to track him down. it’s even impossible to know who’s his next target and when’s he’s gonna execute them.

you thought this was the worst way to have a reunion with your ex-boyfriend. the last time you saw each other was the night you decided to end everything between you. problems were slowly getting riled up and both of your works were going in the way. 

you both did tried to work things out since you knew pretty well that the love you both have for each other were not just petty emotions. it was something deep that no one else can get and understand but the two of you.

“uh-huh. and I also know that i’m your next target so I knew you’ll follow me here.” you said that made heeseung confuse.

“how did you know that you’ll be my next target?” he asked wondering.

“is it important?” you asked him that made him shut his mouth for a while.

even before heeseung can say something, you interrupted him.

“so when will you plan to kill me?” you asked him like it was just a normal matter, like as if that job doesn’t include any of you dying.

heeseung inhaled heavily, “in three days? i don’t know. when do you want to die?” heeseung can’t feel anything anymore. looking at you right now made him realize that you’re someone from his past, someone he used to value other than himself.

you chuckled at how straightforward heeseung was, “three days sounds good but don’t expect that i’m the only one dying.” you said while eyeing him straight to his eyes.

he gave you a small nod as both of you snapped your head towards the side when you heard someone calling out your name. you sighed then stood up treating that as a signal to go and leave heeseung for now.

“that’s my signal, see you in three days.” you gave him a small plain smile before you started walking away from him.

you’re not gonna lie, the heeseung you just faced with is very far from who you’ve loved from before. it looks like he became like the heeseung that he is while he still haven’t met you. when you first met him, his eyes were cold and blank. you knew for a fact that he also kill people for a living, and his name is kind of popular.

but he changed when he met you. he started laughing and expressing other emotions when he’s with you. you two were happy despite the differences you both had. it was unexplainable how love just bind you both without fail.

when you turn around to look at the place where you left heeseung, he was already gone. you gulped then faced forwards as you let your emotions to take over your system once again after so long. tears took over your eyes as your chest aches of pain. mixed emotions were over your mind, not really knowing what you feel exactly.

unsure of many things, there’s only one thing that you know for sure, that if there is some who can finish the job, it would be heeseung.

heeseung’s eyes snapped open as he heard the clicking sound from the door of the room he’s currently staying in. it was midnight and he was pretty sure someone’s trying to enter the place.

with careful and silent movements, he reached over the gun under his pillow. his steps can’t even be heard as he slowly walked over the door and hid behind it.

the person at the other side seems like good with picking locks at they succeeded in opening the door right away. with fast and firm moves, heeseung got his gun pointed at the person’s head.

“don’t move or i’ll blow your head.” he said. 

you turned around and that just hit him, that it was you who entered his room. his brows furrowed at the sight, n “how did you know where i stay--” he was cut off by your sudden embrace. he was defenseless as his hand holding a gun backs up and just hang beside you.

“heeseung did you ever loved me?” one sentence and he knew that you were drunk. he sighed and used his free hand to hold your waist since you’re kind of losing your balance.

“y/n, you’re drunk!” he said but he was stunned as he heard muffled sniffs over from you. you were crying.

“did you ever love me, heeseung? because i loved you.” he shrugged it off and cursed and put his gun over at some drawer before he carried your crying ass. he placed you over at his bed then pulled a chair to sit on.

“you seriously have death wish, y/n. why did you come here?” he asked pissed off. it was midnight and the last thing expected to be his intruder was you. when you know for a fact that he was sent to kill you.

coming there without having any thing to defend you other than you’re crying face was both stupid and genius. heeseung knew you know how he hates seeing you cry. 

“when i told you years ago to just come with me and ran away from all of this shits we wouldn’t be in this kind of situation! I wouldn’t be miserable because i have to kill you.” you ignored what he just said and just continued blabbering your unsaid thoughts to him.

he ran his hand over to his hair as he watched you cry in front of him. pursing his lips and leaning both of his elbows over at his knees, he starred right at you.

“and i also made it clear to you that leaving this job was not as easy as you think. you thought they’ll just let us go once we went missing? no! leaving this job is like wishing for a bullet to be fired into our heads. they’ll hunt both of us down!” he was frustrated too. he’s mind was occupied ever since he saw your picture over at that stupid folder.

he let out a sigh as he kept his sorrowful eyes at you, “and I’m meant to kill you.” his voice almost broke as he said those words to you.

“i would rather have both of us hunt down than to fill my hands with your blood.” tears desperately fell from your eyes as you whale after. you couldn’t contain your emotions anymore.

just by thinking that you both have to kill each other hurts you so much. he was someone you valued and it you didn’t thought you’ll reach this point.

“i’m sorry.” heeseung muttered lowly as you watch him approach you closer. with confused eyes you look at him but lets him  get closer.

it was so sudden that you didn’t even see it coming. feeling pain strike you made you realized that heeseung just punched you over your stomach to get you unconscious.

and as your surroundings turn blurry, you felt his hot breath brushed over your ears as he softly whispers something.

“i did love you, y/n. you were the only person i cared about in this world other than myself.” and everything just turned black.

with the soft muffled chirping of birds from somewhere awoke you. rubbing your eyes you slowly woken up from your sleep.as you raised your head, you noticed the unfamiliar place and then you realized that you went to heeseung’s place last night.

“good morning,” you heard him talked behind you. while heart thumping faster, you fell back over his bed and lets him rest his chin over your head.

then you felt his arm tightly caging you at your position, “why am i still alive?” you asked, feeling lost.

when you went here last night, you made yourself ready for the consequences of your action. death was right in front of you already that’s why you were a little surprised to be awake and still breathing.

you felt heeseung’s soft lips rested over at your temple, “i said three days.” and he carefully ran his fingers over at your arm.

you gulped shutting your eyes closed feeling his every touch. you won’t lie that this actually still makes you feel safe. even knowing that he isn’t your boyfriend anymore and that he’s now here to kill you doesn’t change anything. you’ve never felt safer anywhere but inside his arms.

you just starred over how the sun slowly rise and greets both of you at the window. it was a peaceful way to start the day.

“did you really mean it when you said you wanted to ran away with me?” heeseung asked bravely.

he didn’t slept a wink last night. you were laid over his bed, defenseless but he didn’t kill you. he doesn’t have the heart to do it but instead, he chose to lay beside you and cherish the remaining time.

you turned and faced him, heeseung rested his head over at his palm as he watches over your eyes.

“i'd leave everything for you.” you sincerely said as you raised your hand to caress his face.heeseung felt warm the moment your skin touches his. he missed the familiar warmth and memories came flashing back as he shut his eyes close.

“i’m sorry y/n.” he was broken, frustrated and full of regrets. but he’s nobody to turn back time. he’s just a sinful person who killed a lot of people for money.

you smiled softly, heart aches for the love of your life. pursing your lips you carefully cupped his face and lead it down on you.

with soft touch of kisses you showered every inches of his face with your butterfly like kiss. heeseung was lost, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. emotions and thoughts mixed up over at his system and he doesn’t know what to follow anymore.

“let’s ran away.” his voice faltered as he said that to you.

heart beating so fast, those surely excites you but you know that you’re suffering won’t end if you do that. all of this just tires you out and obviously had you sick of living. you can’t even call this living! having your name always in the list of the cops and trying hard not to be seen by almost everyone was not the kind of life you wanted.

“we have to finish our job.” you said lowly and lastly pulled his face over at you.you starred right into his beautiful eyes before kissing him over his cheeks then to his lips.

“i’ll see you later.” and you slid away from his touch.before you made it outside you turned and look at him.

“make sure to load your gun with one bullet.”

he was dumbfounded, doesn’t know how he’ll react to this. he thought you’ll agree to him but he guess you were tired of this life too.

his eyes soon darted over his abandoned gun that was still right above the drawer. he stood up and grabbed it.

the night was very cold but heeseung didn’t mind it. he was just there, standing under the bright moon, waiting for you. he got his gun loaded with just one bullet over at his back.

his head raise at the sound of small branches breaking because of steps of somebody. he saw you gracefully walking towards him.with a small smile you approached him. he smiled at you, “it’s cold tonight.” he said. you nodded your head and stopped right in front of him.

carefully, you raised your hand over to his face and caress it softly.

“let’s finish it today, heeseung.”

with a sad smile he responded, “okay,”

you sighed heavily and raised your gun. your eyes were darted straightly at his. heeseung held your hand that holding your gun and pointed it over at his chest.

he raised his and straightly point it to your chest too. you smiled, “on three...”

his eyes never left yours as he tighten his grip over at the trigger of his gun.

“1,”

“2,”

“3,”

a loud bang echoed throughout the silent forest. blood splash all over heeseung as his eyes blinked in surprise. he’s pretty sure he heard and saw you pull your trigger, but why doesn’t he feel anything?

his eyes watered as he watch you smile, almost out of breath. with the last energy left on you, you raised your hand to cup his warm face. heeseung don’t know what to feel as he felt your used to be warm hand slowly turning cold.

“you did well, baby.” coughing out blood after saying that, heeseung lose all his strength and dropped at the floor together with your body.

he lets go of his gun and held your body close to him. your stares remain at his face, “no! y/n,” he desperately called you out.

“i love you and you’re the only one i cared about more than myself, heeseung.” slowly your hand fell together with heeseung’s tears.

he cried out and looked over at your gun. he reached over it while still holding you by his another arm. he point the gun over at his head and clicked the gun but once again, nothing.

his heart sank by realizing that your gun was empty. with tears streaming down his face, he embraced your now lifeless body close to him.

thoughts clouded by so much, pain ate everything in him. heart’s starting to feel numb he shut his eyes trying to convince himself that you are not dead. but it was too late, your used to be warm body that comforts everything in him turned so cold.

“i love you.” voice full of sorrow and despair heeseung cried out desperately feeling helpless knowing for a fact that he lost someone he cherished the most.

[scandeniall]

sucker, not a simp

pairing: osamu x reader 

request from anon:  Ohoho what about Sucker by the Jonas Brothers with the superior twin AKA Osamu?? 🥴 But really I’m really excited and intrigued to see how you portray him!!

summary/warnings: one time atsumu called him a simp, but suna said hes a sucker instead./alcohol/curisng/college au again

wc: 1.3K

“It's done,” you exclaimed excitedly, immediately shutting your laptop. Glancing around at your project partners around you, you all passed high fives around. When you got to the last male you gave him a half hearted high five, pulling away just as quickly as it happened. You began chatting with the rest of your team members as you all began packing up. You hadn’t even noticed the slight redness that crept up his face.

“You plan on sitting there all night Samu.” Other than Osamu you were the last person to leave the small study room. Your question came from the doorway, as he just shook his head. Glancing at the numbers displayed on your phone you continued. “Well it's already 2am. Come on, we’ve been at this all day, and we present the proposal in the morning remember?”

Before you could completely walk out the door, The call of your name stopped you. “Hey, do you need a ride back?” A small smile shot crossed your face as you nodded, and soon the two of you were out the library and making your way down the eerily silent campus. “Sorry I parked so far, didn’t plan on being here so late.”

“It's fine,” you hummed out, kicking a small pebble along the sidewalk. “Besides, we had fun and got a badass proposal out of it. We all worked great together and bouncing ideas off of you was cool.”

“I guess we make a pretty good team,” his eyes caught yours and all you could do was nod. 

“Yeah, we do. Don't we?”

That was two years ago. After getting put in the same group project for your business class the two of you became nearly inseparable. With similar majors, the two of you found each other studying together, and even scoring internships at the same company. 

“Ok I think that the company should rethink their expansion plan. When you look at the current revenue in comparison to the expenses we have a problem. For 1, they are spending too much on-” Osamu’s mind completely blanked as he watched you talk. The two of you were currently overlooking the business’s future plans and were tasked with improving them. This was just one of the many times Osamu Miya found himself completely and utterly fucked.

From how smart and passionate you were, to how kind and funny, and how you weren’t even afraid to put his brother in his place. Osamu fell hard. It didn’t make it any better that the two of you were a complete dream team when you worked together, and because of that found yourselves paired together the majority of the time. “Hey Samu, what do you think?”

The gray haired man made his way over to the whiteboard you’d written over standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with you. “Sounds good. I just think we should-” his fingers brushed against yours lingering momentarily as he took the marker out of your hand and wrote his own notes and added to your drawings. He couldn’t help but find himself smiling to himself at your terribly drawn buildings. He remembers the first time he saw you try to draw and compliment your descriptions. He called them trash but the way you laugh had him not minding at the shitty stick figures and lopsided buildings over the years. 

Once he finished he glanced over at you to notice you shuffle. “Hungry?” he raised his eyebrow at you as you nodded. He knew it. That specific shuffle where you’d slightly stand on your toes before shifting your weight to the right was a telltale sign that you weren’t feeling the best. And given the time of day, he figured you were pretty much ready for lunch. 

“Ya liked the onigiri last week right?” At your nod he continued. “Well I changed the filling this time. Wanna give it a try?” Osamu mentally cringed at the memory of his roommates the night prior as he prepped the dish.

“Oh c’mon Samu. I’m hungry,” his twin complained as he swatted his hand away. “I don’t care Tsumu. It's not for ya.” His annoyance grew at the blonde’s studpid laugh. “Of course not. It's for (Y/N). God yer such a simp.”

“I think sucker is a nicer way of putting it,” the twins’ third roommate called out lazily. Osamu ignored the ‘Shut up Suna’ from his brother as he continued his task. 

----

“Come on Samu, it’ll be fun.” You drew out the n as you leaned against the kitchen’s counter. Your friend stood over the stove as the smell of food overtook your senses. “Yeah Samu, it’ll be fun,” a third voice chimed in mimicking yours. “Fuck off,” the two over you said at the ame time. Your eyes drifted to the annoying blonde, while Osamu didn’t even bat an eye. “You two are so cute ya know. Talking the same.” This time you wordlessly flipped him off before turning your attention back.

“Come on Samu, it's gonna be spring break. What better way to spend it then getting drunk and having fun with our friends. Dancing the night away and taking on the town. You know it sounds like fun.”

And that's how Osamu found himself alongside you and several of your mutual friends, mildly intoxicated, sitting at an empty park acting like teenagers again. Osamu isn’t sure the heat he's feeling is from the alcohol, his reaction to the cooled night air, or the way your hand held his the entire walk from the bar as you half haphazardly dragged him along

The laughs of your friends were drowned out as the two of you sit on the park fixture on the opposite end of the park. The alcohol had started wearing off as the two of you settled on just a comfortable buzz. The two of you laughed along to the tik tok videos flashing on your phone the buzz making things even funnier than they usually wouldve been. 

“See aren’t you glad you came out tonight,” your head fell onto his shoulder, as you locked the device. 

“Yeah, I am. Too bad I’m not gonna remember the first half of this night.” His head fell back against the park fixture as he shut his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I have the video of you almost falling off the ledge from earlier,” you teased out thinking back to how you had challenged him to walk the ledge outside of the bar, him nearly falling several times. You had to admit though, that he did better than you. You’d only gotten a fourth of the way through before you had to give it up. 

“Remind me while I followed along with your idea. It was like the blind leading the blind”

“It's because you like (Y/N) ya scrub.” The words came out obnoxiously loud before you could even speak, causing you both to jump in surprise. “Yeah and (Y/N) you like Osamu back,” Both of your eyes widened at the flash from the phone as both your friend and Atsumu stood behind the two of you. They ignored both of your exclaims to shut up as the camera kept going. 

The hand on your shoulder stopped your continuing expletives as lips fell on yours. You ignored the hoots and hollers of the rest of your group who had somehow made their way over to annoy the two of you as well. You continued to ignore them as slightly chapped lips moved against yours and hands pulled you so that you were straddling your friend on a kids park fixture. 

The tiniest bit of alcohol, the feelings for your friend and the adrenaline that had come from the sudden kiss allowed you to keep ignoring your friends who only began to grossly gag and back away as hands fell on your butt and your tongue slipped into his mouth. When you finally pulled away you noticed the two of you were alone. Your forehead rested against his as the two of you let out heavy breaths. You couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh, as he joined you. 

“Glad you followed me into the dark now?”

“I guess I am”

a/n: yeah sorry for the hold up bby. Idk i still dont actually like this and I struggle with writing osamu, so i hope this was at least tolerable. Requests are open, but pls check my rules first :)

funfact the beginning of this is inspired by an irl thing that happened to me this past semester. He was cute too and our team actually won the prize and our group was deadass in the library for 13 hours straight and left at 2am to be up by 9am. and he did drive me home LMFAO but nothing came of it and maybe i’ll see him at our prize conference if covid doesnt ruin my life further (he was a senior and graduated smh)

[ricablack]

Numbers

“Another one.” When Remus entered the small house and tapped his shoes at the entrance before taking them off and entering Sirius' living room, he had a letter with him. Sirius' attention, however, was only for a few moments on Remus before he turned his full attention again to the little boy, who was stepping towards him on shaky feet. “Moons, you see this? We've been training for an hour and little Harry is already running like a champion!” Pride and joy were reflected in his eyes just before pain and emptiness returned, being replaced by a plain face moments later. “Prongs would have been so proud.” Remus dropped the letter in the trash, like all the others before, and caught Harry, who had just lost his balance.

It was a difficult time for all of them and while Sirius tried hard to find his way in his new role as a father, Remus worked hard to lead the gossip magazines on the wrong track. Everyone wanted to publish pictures of the chosen one, if it were up to them, Harry would probably have been displayed in a glass case in the ministry foyer. Just now, just before Christmas, they were particularly intrusive and at each of his visits Remus had to be extremely careful not to be followed. So far nobody had found them, so far Harry was safe.

No one but him.

While Remus took over Harry, Sirius turned away and stared out into the rain. They were dead now for 50 days and while everyone said that it became easier with time, Sirius could only deny it. It did not get easier, not one little bit. Soon it would be Christmas and of course Moony and him would make it a great day for Harry, but it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same again.

The letter in the bin got an angry look. James and Lily had died, but his little brother was still out there and certainly tried to pull his head out of the noose just like all the other death eaters. He wouldn’t be his alibi, when they caught him he would be there to tell the gamot all the things the Blacks were so very proud of. He just wondered how Regulus had found out his address. These letters were not delivered by owl. Just another reason to be careful.

“Did you ever open one of them?” Carrying Harry and trying to get his watch back from the boy Remus settled down on the couch. He fought a war that was already won (by Harry of course! This watch would be added proudly to his uncle Moony collection). “No.” Sirius demonstrated what these letters were good for when he let it explode within the bin with a wave of his wand. Harry cheered in Remus’ arms, expecting more sparkles coming out of the bin - when Sirius let explode something it was always fun! Remus sighed but didn’t say a word.

It was the next morning, so early Harry was still sleeping, when Sirius nearly slipped on an envelope in front of the door. “Bloody bastard!” He looked around, trying to figure out if his death eater brother was still anywhere around here. Not a single sign anyone had been here, deep in the woods, at the back of beyond. In fact it was a place his brother would have liked: the silence, the solitude of this little cottage in the woods. Still he shouted at the trees, at the raindrops, dripping from leafless trees. “I won’t protect you from the aurors, do you hear me? I won’t help a fascist to avoid Azkaban!” He now had the letter in his hands, the envelope with Regulus’ neat handwriting on it, was about to rip it to pieces before he changed his mind. No. Maybe, to end this… another fiery look to the trees before he opened it, put out the content and gave it a look. “See? You don’t need to-” Sirius frowned. This wasn’t what he expected.

85. The number of people I saw dying.

Nothing else. Just this number and the note next to it. What was Regulus up to? Sirius turned the page but it was blank on the other side. Slowly he turned around and went back into the house, having completely forgotten what he wanted to do outside.

16. The age when I got the dark mark.

The next day he had pinned both pieces of paper to the inside of his bedroom door and looked at them thoughtfully. It was a riddle, wasn’t it? Some kind of mad little game his brother played with him and he didn’t know what was written in the letters before yesterday. He got one every day. He burnt 50 letters, starting the day the Potters died.

19. Death eaters I know by name.

54. The number of letters I sent you.

120. The number of letters I didn’t send you.

Sirius catched himself waiting for the next letter. Wanting to know which number was explained in the next one. Maybe it wasn’t exactly a game. Maybe it was something like a confession. Sirius was sure the aurors would be interested in the names of the death eaters, but somehow he didn’t want to let them know about this… conversation. It was bizarre, it was so very Regulus. When he remembered his childhood - before he even went to Hogwarts - it had always been this one thing about his little brother. Shy, therefore not very good with words when he spoke, but extremely studious. Bloody hell, why did he think about Regulus this way? He was a death eater, a fascist, probably a murderer and part of his family who would kill him the second they had the chance to!

235. Articles I collected about the Dark Lord.

Sirius pinned the note on the door, frowned and narrowed his eyes. He had to… he had to stop it. He collected the notes for two weeks now and it wasn’t like they made any sense. There was always a number and afterwards an explanation. Nothing more. No apologies, no begging for an alibi. He didn’t ask for anything and this was the point Sirius was so irritated about. He wasn’t exactly the most patient person (his name wasn’t Moony, okay?) and now he took the last note off again and wrote on the back.

What do you want to tell me??? Why those numbers?!

Really, he wasn’t the most patient person (he wasn’t patient at all) and he wanted to know now what was the point. No more numbers. No more waiting for more letters to arrive. Just an answer, just… Well, was this Regulus strategy to get him to talk to him? The thought struck him but he couldn’t help but feel trapped. He was too curious now to stop reading the letters and when Remus arrived the day before yesterday, having another letter in his hand, he couldn’t wait to read it. Moony just watched him with his thoughtful but warm smile, while he got goosebumps reading 14. Protection charms of your house. He wasn’t sure if it was a threat then, but felt relieved when the next letter said 6. Number of banishing spells I added to them.

He placed the note on his doorstep and if Moony wouldn’t have been there, he would have lain in wait. The only thing he did was to place a new alarming spell that would tell him when someone came close to the front door. Remus would stay for the night. He had looked at him somewhat questioningly but had not asked him why. It was 2am when the alarm awakened him and it was hardly 20 seconds Sirius needed to be there, at the door, staring at the new letter. No one was visible. “Come on Reg, you can’t tell me you answered it within seconds.” Sirius muttered while taking it, closing the door behind him.

1. thing I can’t do alone. 7. Horcruxes to destroy so he won’t return.

He wrote back within seconds. Or did he get behind the ward without being noticed? Did he activate it to let him know he was there? Was he still there? Somewhere in the dark? With a jerk Sirius opened the door again. “Come in but you won’t leave without telling me what a damn horcrux is.” He spoke to the trees. No one was there, impossible. But Sirius turned around, went into the cottage again, leaving the door open and wasn’t surprised to hear footsteps coming closer. This little… his brother had watched him. For how long? Strangely, he didn’t feel worried about it but nevertheless he pulled out his wand. “Sit down wherever you want and don’t even try to get me to protect you.” Suddenly all the pent-up anger was there again. Why did Regulus join them? Why did he follow the Dark Lord? Why did he think he could come here for help like nothing happened between them? So many questions appeared in his mind but the only one who could answer them was here, right? However, he wasn’t prepared to see his brother again when he finally turned around. He examined the slim figure that had sat down on the edge of an armchair as if he did not belong here. Regulus did not belong here either, he was an intruder, so everything was right with his behaviour here, right? Why didn’t it feel right then? . Taking a close look Regulus Black looked like prey. He had always been pale, but he looked paler than he had in his school days.There was something haunting in his eyes - something that Sirius could not define. Those grey eyes that looked at him now, attentive, as ever. The younger Black had always been the listener, not the type of person who liked to hear himself speaking. They were as different as day and night in everything they did, weren’t they?

It was a wasted time to wait for Regulus to start talking. Not if he was not asked to. “So tell me, why me of all people?” A death eater couldn’t expect a warm welcome by Sirius. And it didn’t seem like Regulus did. When his little brother finally began to speak the goosebumps were suddenly back. This voice, his voice, he couldn’t handle it without having flashbacks of everything that had been. This soft voice that had been there for him after mother and father were finished with their lectures about how a pureblood should behave, how a pureblood should act and how he was a bad person for not fitting in. It had no longer touched him as a teenager, but as a child they had been an anchor to each other. To be honest, he only half listened to him while being caught in the past but still there were some sentences that hit him hard. “You’re the only one I can be sure of being against him.” Was the first one followed by “I- I tried to warn you but I guess you weren’t at home?” The words needed a few seconds to arrive his thoughts, to sink in. Well, if he just opened that damn letter instead of burning it- “He’s not dead, Sirius. I have this one, but there are six more and I don’t know how I survived to recover this one.” He didn’t ask why Regulus knew about horcruxes. He didn’t even ask how he managed to get to know all these things he told him now. It had been in his notes, right? 235. Articles I collected about the Dark Lord. He knew Regulus was obsessed with the Dark Lord. But he didn’t know it wasn’t because he wanted to make him rise even more but preparing his downfall.

How couldn’t he forgive Regulus for following the Dark Lord when it had been the only way to discover his secrets? Sirius wasn’t sure about his own role in this story: he had to take care of Harry, but he wanted to prevent Voldemort from rising again. He wanted to help his little brother. He wanted to hear his story. And wasn’t this the most surprising thim to him?

[soup-for-breakfast-99]

Thomastair - Forgive Me

This is my first time posting fanfic on here, so feedback welcome. Check out my Wattpad for more @/Amelia-jai-herondale

I don’t know why the paragraphs look weird. Please ignore.

As summer faded, dusk had begun to set over London just as dinner was over, and with a curt goodnight to his mother Alastair retired to his room which was already cast in twilight. He lit a taper at his desk and sat down to his nightly ritual. Every night since Cordelia's engagement party Alastair  would return to his room, take out a pen and paper and write in his neatest cursive Dear Mr Lightwood,

And then promptly crumple the paper up and throw it across the room. He did exactly this, and then just like always he took a second piece of paper and wrote Dear Lightwood, but ultimately decided that that sounded even worse. Sappy. He scolded himself. You sound weak. It was supposed to be an apology, not grovelling. No matter how badly he wanted to he wasn't going to grovel. His palms were starting to feel sweaty. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then took a third sheet and simply wrote Thomas,

And then he blanked. Like always. What do you say to the man you're in love with to apologise for spreading horrific rumours about his family? My sincere apologies for attempting to ruin your life by insinuating that you are a bastard. Or perhaps, It is with great regret I look back on the moment I told everyone we know that your father is an adulterer. There really isn't a good way to say that. Alastair watched with a detached fascination as a drop of ink from the nib of his pen splashed down onto the page, obscuring Thomas' name almost completely. He�� once again forcefully crumpled the paper into a ball, his face contorting into a grimace as he did so. His hands gripped the parchment so tightly that his knuckles whitened, his arms trembling. Weak. Stupid and weak. With a spasm of movement, he threw the paper as though it were burning and jerkily stood up from the desk, stumbling backwards into the centre of the room. He heard a crash, but his vision was to blurred to see what caused it. The room was spinning. Alastair's breathing was fast and laboured. He pushed a shaking hand through his black hair, feeling sweat on his forehead. Ridiculous. Weak. Stupid. The floor seemed to sway under his slight frame, and Alastair sank to his knees on the floor. Disappointment. Said the voice in Alastair's head that sounded like his father. Weak. Stupid. Disappointment. He clutched at his chest as though us might burst, and noticed distantly that he was crying. Weak. Weak. Weak.

Alastair couldn't be sure how long it had been by the time he woke up. He was lain on the floor of his room, still in his shirt and trousers, his tie feeling to light around his neck. His waistcoat restricted him as he managed to sit up against the wall. Across the room he could see the crumpled remains of his letters littering the floor. The candle on his desk burned low. Just as Alastair prepared to drag himself up off the floor, there was a knock at his door. "

"Master Carstairs? Visitor here to see you. Young man. Handsome boy."

"Thank you, Risa. I'll be right down." Alastair replied groggily. He checked his pocket watch and frowned. A visitor? At this time? At first he thought of Charles, but Risa knew him by name. Perhaps it was Herondale here to discuss Cordelia. He hoped not. He didn't have the patience for James' whining and moping and smiling tonight. "I'll send him up!" He heard Risa shout from halfway down the stairs. "I'll come down!" He yelled, but he was fairly sure she didn't hear. Oh well. Whoever it was would simply have to ignore the state of his room. Alastair stood up from the floor and straightened himself in front of the mirror. He could hear the booming footsteps of a fairly large person on the stairs; someone who was clearly trying to be quiet due to the late hour but failing miserably. Not Herondale then. To big. To respectful. A few moments later there was a firm knock on the door, and Alastair crossed the room to open it. He almost passed out when the door swung open and his eyes met the steady gaze of Thomas Lightwood, huge and striking as always. His warm brown eyes were fixed on his own, and his skin looked a shadowy shade of gold In the dim light from the hall. Alastair could smell the taller man's cologne; sandalwood and something sweet, and he could feel the warmth radiating off of him. It was only then that Alastair noticed how close they were standing, and that he had been staring at Thomas in silence for the last fifteen seconds. He look a stumbling step back, and wordlessly welcomed Thomas into the room. Mustering all the strength he had, Alastair forced down the carefully constructed mask of indifference over his face and turned to close the door.  "What," Alastair began with perhaps a little too much venom "are you doing here? And so late?"

"Good evening to you too Carstairs. What a fine night it is. Are you well?" Thomas said with an even expression. Thomas, who always wore his heart on his sleeve, was for once unreadable. "Am I well? What kind of question is that? Why are you here, Lightwood?" If writing a letter to Thomas has been hard enough to send him crying to sleep each night for two weeks, standing here looking at him now, was like a dagger in Alastair's side, tearing violently through him. "Clave business. I'm here to inform you that the demon activity in this area is twice the average for London. As the eldest active shadowhunter this area, it is your responsibility to investigate and report back to the head of the London institute promptly. Will Herondale will be waiting to hear from you in the next fortnight." Thomas spoke evenly, no anger detectable in his voice. Alastair tilted his head slightly, attempting to look taller next to his giant companion. "You came here now, at 2am, to tell me I have to complete a report in two weeks?" Thomas swallowed hard, and Alastair watched his Adam's apple Bob under his pale skin. He noticed then the sheen of sweat on Lightwood's muscled neck, and wondered how he could he hot with the window wide open. "Um- well... I just thought you would want to know as soon as possible." Thomas stuttered. He ran his hand through his mousey brown hair, and Alastair caught a glimpse of his tattoo through the thin fabric of his shirt sleeve. He remembered Paris, touching the soft skin of Thomas bare arm, and shivered.

“And why are you the one telling me this?" Alastair asked.

"I- I uh... I volunteered. Said I'd tell you."

"Why?"

The two men stared at each other.

"I- I wanted to see you. To talk to you." Thomas' voice was almost a whisper, and his eyes were fixed on the floor.

"Why? You hate me." Alastair said matter of factly. Thomas' head shot up at record speed and his eyes met Alastair's intensely, suddenly a shade darker. "I don't hate you. I- I could never... I could never hate you Alastair." It was Alastair's turn to stare at the floor, suddenly feeling unworthy of Thomas' heavy gaze. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. "I hate what you did. It was vile. You hurt the people I love. You hurt Matthew in ways you could never imagine. You hurt my aunt Charlotte and uncle Henry. You hurt my father and mother, who have already been through so much. You-" Thomas sucked in a deep breath, as though only in his hesitation did he remember to breathe. His words were like a tidal wave and now that they were coming they wouldn't stop. "You hurt me in the worst way, because I trusted you. I believed that you were better then you acted. I believed in you and you hurt me. You let me down. And I hate that. But I will never hate you, Alastair. Hating you... hating you would hurt me more than anything you could ever say to me."

Alastair's bones felt weak, and his whole body was shaking. He mustered the strength to look up, and his tearful eyes met Thomas'. He was crying too, and that was enough to tear down Alastair's defences completely. "Forgive me, Thomas. Please. I would give anything, anything in this world. I would give my life to show you how sorry I am for the pain I have caused you and your family. I have done cruel and terrible things in my fear and shame, and for that I deserve no kindness. I am not worthy of your forgiveness Thomas. Your kindness is too beautiful and too wonderful to be wasted on me, but I beg of you anyway, for you are my last hope at respite from my own self destruction. I beg of you Thomas Lightwood, forgive me." He was crying freely now, his cheeks striped with tears. His voice was raw and hoarse.

There was a moment, a frame frozen in time, where the two men simply looked at each other, both holding the others heart in their hands. No one moved. No one spoke. There was only silence.

All of a sudden, Thomas took a confident step forward and placed his hands firmly on Alastair's shoulders, and slid his left to rest in the crook of Alastair's neck. "You are not infernal, Alastair Carstairs. You are still an angel. You have not yet fallen." He pushes Alastair's chin up so that his dark eyes were visible past the curtain of lashes. "I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. Condemnation would mean you never learn. You have such a kind heart, Querido. You deserve a chance to learn to show it."

Alastair continued to cry, a fresh wave of tears. Tears of relief. "And if you'll let me, Alastair, i would like to get to know that heart. Perhaps you were so cruel because no one had shown you kindness as they should. No one has taught you that you are so incredibly deserving of kindness. Of love. No one had shown you that you are valuable. Allow me. Allow me to show you. I beg that of you, Alastair." Thomas was breathless and rambling and it still sounded like poetry to Alastair. His head spun. Thomas' hands were still on his shoulders, a steady weight keeping him grounded. "I- I do not deserve that. Thank you, sincerely, your forgiveness means more than you can know. But any more than that is not what I have earned." Their bodies were inches apart, Alastair could smell his cologne again, and finally placed it as sandalwood and rose.

"Your pain is not earned either. Let me take it from you. Let me help you." Thomas was begging now.

"Why?" Alastair gasped between tears. "Becau- because I-..." he let out a dramatic sigh, and with some force, Thomas pulled Alastair against him and bent his head so that their lips were inches apart. They paused for a moment, breathing the same air, and then Alastair's arms went around Thomas, and they crashed together desperately. Alastair pressed himself as close as possible, his body curving against him as though he would otherwise die. Thomas clutched tightly to Alastair's waistcoat, almost tearing the fabric as he held the boy firm but gently against him. Their lips slip together in the messy kiss of young and unexperienced passion, the occasional clash of teeth causing Thomas to smile uncontrollably, until he was taken off guard by the feeling of Alastair's tongue against his lips. He gasped, and then groaned, "Alastair..."

“Thomas...”

[project-stormblessed]

1-50

Alrighty!

1. What color are your socks?

All of my socks are either completely black or black and gray. Lol.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why?

Only once when I was like, 12 or 13 making a second Youtube account lol.

3. What is something you regret in the past month?

Becoming distant and isolating myself from most of my friends. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health tbh.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Honestly? Not sure. Part of me doesn’t, and part of me does. Can’t really get either part to agree one way or the other.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? Definitely well over a decade ago. Honestly can’t remember.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you?

I was 11 or 12, and it was my older brother Jack who taught me. He also taught me how to drive lol.

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not?

We get along well enough. Now that they’re retired the house is a much calmer environment.

8. What’s your favorite season?

Spring. I love seeing everything in bloom—the colors are very pleasing to me. I love seeing lots of green, and lots of lush plantlife.

9. Do you currently like someone?

Hmm, not entirely sure about that one. I guess I don’t really have any strong feelings for anyone in particular. Maybe. 👀👀

10. Have you ever used an Ouija board?

Nope, and I don’t plan on it.

11. What’s the last song you sang?

It was a song for choir this past semester, though I don’t remember the title that well or the composer.

12. What’s your favorite scent?

Never really had a favorite scent, honestly. My sense of smell has been pretty dull/weak for as long as I can remember and I’ve never really given much thought to any favorite scent.

13. What’s your favorite urban legend?

The Roswell UFO incident of 1947. It sparked my interest in aliens and UFOs at a very young age, and is probably responsible for a good deal of my love for sci-fi.

14. What’s a bad habit that you have?

Poor self control when it comes to time management. I tend to let myself get absorbed in things.

15. What’s a strange habit that you have?

Hmm. Totally blanked and could only come up with “making noises and pretending to be a mech of some sort when moving around my house”. That’s all I got.

16. What’s the first instrument you learned to play?

Piano. I started learning at 8 years old.

17. How would you describe your ‘type’?

Y’know funny enough I’ve never really thought I had a type. However reaching my mid-twenties has made me realize that my ‘type’ is kind, compassionate, goofy, and nerdy/geeky.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out?

Depends on the company, I guess. Though, usually I prefer to stay in anyway.

19. What was the last thing you said to your mom?

“I’m taking Dax out.” When I went for a walk with my dog lol.

20. Do you want to get married someday?

Definitely didn’t used to. I’m at the point where I’d be down if my partner wanted to, though I’m not sure I’d wanna spend a shitload of money on a wedding. Guess it depends on financial status at the time and the preferences of my partner.

21. Have you ever snuck out?

Nah, though I never needed to. My parents typically let me leave house whenever I wanted to as long as I told them who I’m with and when-ish I’m going to be home.

22. Can you sing well?

I can match pitch pretty well, but I can’t produce pitch un-aided. Usually. So kinda. I’m ok at best, all things considered.

23. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

I went off on some of my friends over something kinda silly because my mental state as of late hasn’t been all that great.

24. When was the last time you went sledding?

Uhhh, definitely more than ten years ago.

25. Have you ever liked/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

You kidding me? That’s like, all of my crushes ever. Maybe that’s an exaggeration but honestly it’s certainly FELT that way each time.

26. Do people often mispronounce your name?

No, though I have known a few people throughout my life that said “Bin” rather than “Ben”. I eventually realised it was an accent thing and stopped giving a shit very early.

27. Would you like to live in another country?

Yes, actually. For no small number of reasons. I’ve always wanted to live in Italy ever since I visited when I was 15.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

I definitely used to. I don’t really watch tv much in general anymore, though.

29. Who was the last person you said “I love you” too?

My mom.

30. What’s something you’d like to be better at?

Social interaction. Speaking in general. I’m MUCH more articulate in writing/typing than I am speaking.

31. Have you ever stayed up with someone who was sad?

Yes, and I’m always willing to do so.

32. What was the last thing you cooked?

I helped my good friend prepare some bomb ass ramen a few months back. I guess that counts.

33. Do you think you’d make a good parent?

I’d like to think so, yeah. I would make sure my children know I’m always there for them and will support the hell out of them.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?

I don’t, but my dipshit body does.

35. Where is your best friend right now?

All of them are either playing video games or asleep.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Factoring in every aspect of the morning ritual, about 40 minutes. That’s if I’m going somewhere like work or school. If I’m staying home then there’s no getting ready for anything but sitting on my ass lol.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night?

Depends on the time of year/what I’m doing the next day. Right now during quarantine I average anywhere between 2am and 6am. I’m trying to fix that currently.

38. When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I truly cried was sometime in 2015. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin’s latest album and feeling exceedingly lonely/depressed. It wasn’t a great day.

39. Have you ever won a contest?

None that I can remember, honestly.

40. Can you draw well?

Lol. No. I have very little visual artistic talent or skill.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

Definitely, though obviously I wouldn’t just jump right in. I’m down for long distance relationships, too. But obviously mutual trust and emotional connection would have to be established first.

42. What was the last thing you ate?

Some brownie fudge M&Ms lol.

43. Do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend?

I don’t really know. Never been in a relationship so I don’t have anything go off of. On the one hand I’m super understanding, laid back, and accepting of boundaries. I just want to make sure people feel comfortable and safe around me. On the other hand I’m also forgetful and very selfish when it comes to my time. I also obviously have plenty of emotional trauma/baggage (who doesn’t?) that tends to impede how I interact with people, so. 🤷🏼‍♂️

44. Have you ever had a near death experience?

Not that I can remember, and I hope I never do. The closest I think I ever came was when I fell off a ropeless bridge into a dry riverbed at 4 years old. Got a concussion from that.

45. What do you think people think of you?

Well, my anxiety tells me I’m annoying and boring. The logical side of me tells me most people in my life enjoy my company, so I guess there’s that.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it?

Don’t feel like sharing my middle name here, but I will say I don’t dislike it. Kinda neutral.

47. Are you close with either of your parents?

Kinda. My parents were often emotionally distant/abusive to my brothers and me growing up, and it’s left me rather stunted emotionally, and generally unwilling to establish a deeper relationship with them. We’re a bit closer than we were when I was a teenager, but honestly not much.

48. Do you like yourself?

Generally speaking? No. There are parts of me I’m proud of, but honestly I often find myself wishing I was someone else. I’m far from the self-loathing I experienced when I was younger, though.

49. State five facts about your appearance—

1. I’m 6’1”-ish.

2. Definitely just a bit chubby.

3. Blue eyes.

4. Currently sporting longer hair because I haven’t had a haircut since about September.

5. I have a number of faded scars on my arms from various self inflicted/work related injuries. All of them were caused by extreme clumsiness/poor spacial awareness.

50. State five facts about your personality—

1. I’m super goofy—I make lots of weird noises and motions.

2. I tend to ramble about things I’m interested in, particularly hyper fixations.

3. I like to think I’m a pretty compassionate human being.

4. Extremely awkward, but strangely that doesn’t show because I’m apparently a social chameleon.

5. I’m an observer, but also an overthinker.

Whew, that was a lot! Thank you, friend!

[victory-cookies]

Devon felt her heart drop as soon as the sun outside dipped below the horizon. She could already feel it. 

This was going to be a bad night. 

It was going to be a bad night, and Blake was over for the first time in months. Fuck, why did her life have to be like this? 

She couldn’t ruin it. They’d really wanted to watch this movie, and she’d hate to screw everything up. 

She could stick it out. 

Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus back on the movie. 

***

The moon was rising, and Devon was about to burst. She could hear Blake’s blood rushing through their veins, hear the quiet whoosh of their breath, hear the edges of their thoughts, slowly growing louder. She could see the faint glow of their soul, calm and content and trusting and she felt her fingers twitch, how easy it would be to reach out and—

Blake turned to face her, having felt her stiffen. “You alright there, Dev? The movie freaking you out? We can turn it off if you want.” They popped a piece of popcorn into their mouth. “It’s actually kinda striking me as more of an action-comedy kinda night, so I—“

“Blake, I need you to leave.” She clenched her fists, feeling her nails press into her palms. 

Blake blinked. “Devon, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Devon shook her head. She could feel her control slipping, the darkness of the night outside slipping into the room, her nails slowly growing out into claws, slicing into her hands. 

“Dev, what’s wrong?! Dev?” 

She looked up at them with desperation. “Go,” she croaked. 

“I’m not going until I make sure you’re okay,” they said, standing up and reaching for her shoulder. 

She growled at them, and they recoiled. 

“Dev?”

“You neęd tø leave. N͜͡͝o̡͢w̕͏͞!̕”

Blake stiffened, their eyes growing blank. With a swift turn, they walked out of the room. 

Devon paled. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean to do that, Blake, I’m sorry, Blake—“

The rest of the darkness came crashing in. 

***

Blake stumbled to a stop. When had they left Devon’s? Why had they— where—

They looked around. They were standing to the side of a dimly lit, empty road, bordered on both sides by thick forest. The full moon shone brightly overhead, and they rubbed their eyes. They couldn’t have gotten too far from her house, and yet...

Suddenly, they heard a low growling coming from behind them. Heart racing, they slowly turned around to see a pair of piercing red eyes gazing intently at them from the forest. A hulking figure then stepped out of the shadows. 

Blake’s breath caught, and they squeaked. Approaching them was a giant grey wolf, it’s fur matted and eyes hungry. It padded towards them, spit drooling through its teeth as it bared its canines. 

“Fuck, fuck, n— nice puppy,” they whispered hoarsely, taking a step back. They held up their hands defensively. “Good dog...”

The wolf charged. 

It pounced on top of them, tackling them to the ground. Blake screamed as its claws dug into their flesh, and they desperately tried to fling the animal off. 

The wolf snarled and snapped at their face, barely missing. They cried out and tried again to get away, but before they could even try to move, the wolf bit down on their arm. 

They screamed. 

***

Devon sat on the floor, breathing heavily and trying to not to pay attention to the shadowy figures dancing out of the corner of her eyes. Her palms were still dripping blood. 

She barely had the will to look up when there was a knock at her door. 

“Come in,” she managed to cough, putting on as close to a human appearance as she could force herself to hold. 

The door swung open, and Blake stumbled into the room. “Dev, help, I—“ They couldn’t finish before they fell to their hands and knees, retching up bile and blood onto the floor. 

Devon took a shaky breath. “Blake, what—?”

They looked up at her, face pained. 

Their eyes were glowing a pure candy-apple red. Sharp canines poked out over their bottom lip, and Devon could see the tips of claws sticking out from under the sleeves of their hoodie. 

She could smell it off of them too. The sharp, unmistakable smell of something inhuman. Of...

“Oh, shit,” Devon said. She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled over to them. “Oh, Blake, no.”

“What’s happening to me?” Blake asked weakly, having finally stopped vomiting. They struggled to their knees, shaking violently. “I got attacked outside and now I’m...”

Devon’s face paled. “I think you’re... oh, god, this is all my fault, oh god, I’m so sorry,” she rambled, trying not to have a breakdown. “Blake... I— I think you’re a werewolf.”

Blake looked at their shaking hands, sharp claws tipping their fingers. After a long pause, they gave a small sob. 

“Dev, it hurts.” they whispered.

Devon let out a shaky breath and pulled them into a hug. “It’s gonna hurt for a while, Blake.” She closed her eyes, forcing back tears. “God, I’m so sorry. I forced you to go outside alone and I knew it was a full moon and god I’m such an idiot and this is all my fault and—“ She swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

Blake nuzzled into her shoulder, gingerly lifting their arms to hug her back. “Don’t apologize... ‘s not your fault at all...” They paused. “Why is your back so fluffy?”

Devon froze, slowly realizing that her wings must have manifested.

She slowly shifted her wing. “Okay, so, uh, please don’t freak out about this, I know you’ve already had quite the night and uh...” She exhaled and dropped the rest of her glamour. “I’m kinda... a demon.”

————————

Whoops forgot to post this last night. I wrote it like 2am so it might be horrible. 

Basically, this is Devon’s childhood friend, Blake. They’re agender and a grey ace biromantic. They’re a werewolf. Supernatural shenanigans are them and Dev’s specialty. 

Huzzah! 

@obsidiancreates @a-humble-narcissus

[chatlote]

Remember when I could write a chapter every day ;-; Wish I had the time to do that again (maybe on christmas I will!) Comments are appreciated as always especially since I wrote this chapter at 2am I really hope the quality is ok ;; <3

(<-Previous) (First) (Commissions) (Ko-fi) (On AO3)

It's indeed a tough battle with himself. The battle is deciding whether or not he should get up and sprint towards Lance’s room so they can cuddle as the letter had suggested. The words cuddling and Lance together only make him think about last night on the Bridge and how safe and warm he felt. It's honestly a surprise that he hasn't gotten up yet, considering how he usually trusts his impulses first and thinks second. But he also knows why he doesn't do it, and it's the same reason that's always kept him from trusting or getting closer to other people... fear. The fear that was born after his mother left him when he was a child, which became stronger when he lost Shiro. The fear that eventually drove him to stay away from people, especially the ones he cares about… like when he left Voltron for the Blade. It was that fear of getting too attached only to end up hurt or alone again.

Keith has to admit he’s learned to grow past this fear recently, he trusts team Voltron more than ever and would never think about leaving them again. But that doesn't mean he’s anywhere near emotionally ready to just start that type of relationship with Lance. Yet he still wants to give it a try. Because Lance seems to understand him better than anyone, every letter that Lance sends him feels like Lance is purposely reading through every single one of his fears only to put him at ease. And the fact that Lance himself says that he is afraid somehow... feels really reassuring, it puts them on equal footing like they’re really in this together. Out of habit of the past few days, he found himself taking a piece of paper from the pile and grabbing a pencil. Not that he knows what he’s going to write, but since Lance wrote that Keith could give him a reply through a letter instead of talking, he wants to try doing that.

It sounds easier after all.

But it isn’t. That is what he realizes a few minutes later when he is still staring at the same blank paper with no idea how to start the letter. He puts his head on the table and groans. "If this is what it means to date someone I don't want it." After a second he realizes what he said... dating... is that what they were now? That's too soon, isn't it!? Quickly he gets back up and starts writing the letter.

So are we dating now?

He blinks and immediately regrets whatever thought process that made him write that, and he crumples the paper and throws it somewhere behind him. And tries again. This time he thinks about cuddling again which reminds him of their earlier conversation.

So about the sleepover invitation-

No no no! What sort of start of letters are these? He throws this one away as well. A few more pathetic attempts pass before he eventually decides to take a minute to breathe and think straight. Without any specific thought in mind, Lance's letter next to him and the pencil in his hand, he lets the words flow a little more naturally.

Hey Lance, About the freaking out part? You were not wrong. I really didn't mean to give you the letter, I was still afraid that the way I love you was wrong. But after reading your reply, I don’t regret giving you that letter.

Unconsciously, he starts smiling as he writes.

Why? Because now I feel more confident about the way I feel. I love you, I really do. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone, which makes me scared. But at the same time, I feel like it's okay because it's with you. Even if I don't know what our relationship is now, or what it will be tomorrow. I want to give this a try, whatever this is. This all sounds so cheesy it feels like you’re the one who wrote this letter, so I hope you’re proud of yourself. Anyway, I want to spend more time with you... I don't know how much I will be able to talk about any of this in person but... I do like the cuddle offer. Does the sleepover plan still stand? Still in love with you too, (you can keep saying it, I like reading it), Keith

(Next ->)

[wistful-wizard]

I’m Proud of This One

Sinclair’s life was spun like a spider’s web. Fragile gossamer that could be so easily torn apart, whether through accident or ill intent. Some of the paths he took didn’t make much sense at the time, and there was seldom any part of his life after 12 that he was sure of himself. It was only now, when the final touches of his web were being put into place that everything seemed to make sense. He wondered if it was some senseless sentiment he was trying to comfort himself with as his life was coming to a close, or if he really was finally sure about himself, and who he was and all he had been. It was doubts like these that plagued him. When the first nibble of the winter’s cold descended on him, he felt death stalking its shadow. He figured he wasn’t going to survive this one, though he had expected so of the last.

Memories would sink into him from time to time like the jaws of a wild animal, biting down and tearing deep, spilling red thoughts of bitterness from the wound. It was hard. As he was going into his forties, he figured that he was still too sensitive for his age. Most of the adults he knew had ‘grown up’ by then it seemed. They were secure about themselves, and they didn’t regret things quite as much. Though, maybe they were faking it. He was sure that some kids must’ve thought of him as devoid of these teenage idiosyncrasies. All of his philosophical musings about life had left him living alone and widowed, his children scattered like seeds in the wind, never to come back to the tree that made them. That was alright, he supposed. He had wanted that kind of freedom as a child after all. Though, children were a joy he never quite expected before he had them. It was a new experience, the first fresh splash of paint on his then dulled life. And the coat had lasted a while too, but then they grew up, and he felt like everything he had put into the past 25 years had suddenly left. It was sad, and maybe he was a bitter old man, but he wished that they would remember him more often. They would get old too, and though he hated wishing badly on his own children he knew that they’d come to feel how he felt, but then it’d be too late to accept their apology.

He’d forgive them anyway he thought. That was a lot of what he was. A forgiving person. Many of the tiny threads that made his life were tinted black with that act of forgiveness. His second girlfriend cheating on him for example, was something he forgave regretfully. She was drunk he had thought then, and he kept up being in a relationship with her, convincing himself every night that she was the one, until they broke up 3 months later, when she had cheated on him again. It took him months to get over it, and even more time to realize what a fool he had been. That trend would follow a lot of his life. Nearly half of his spider’s web was tinged with black. He used to be amazed that he hadn’t become a bitter person by it but then he realized that he had. A lot of revelations hit him throughout his life, most of them he would’ve gotten a lot quicker if someone pointed it out, or so he thought anyway.

He sighed deeply. His room was musky, so he opened a window and let the cold in, or the heat out rather, which was another thing he learned in his life. Most of his childhood was scarce now. Sometime around his twenties he started to really romanticize that part of his life. He came to miss the sweet innocence of it, the last time everything felt okay. Now he thought that in those days he was just being dramatic and that things have, and always will be, both okay and not-okay. That’s just how it was, and he accepted that. It was only when he felt like dying that this kind of bitterness would take him. He wasn’t suicidal, he just really wanted to get it over with. Onto the next frontier, if there was one. Nonexistence was something he never thought about now. In his youth, he would’ve called himself an atheist, and put on a brave face, saying that it was oblivion after you die. Now the proximity of the void he once taunted frightened him so fiercely he’d find himself crying whenever the fear took him. He had too much pride to go back on his word, so he settled on agnostic.

He wondered a lot about the life he lived, and whether he’d be sent to hell or not. Again, when he was younger considering something like that was silly, but with his age he had to consider it as a serious possibility. Hell was still preferred to oblivion. He was so tired now too. He felt sometimes as if he would just stop moving on the mornings, if he’d just remain in bed and lie there, that he would die. And he wanted so badly to some mornings. But his spirit would always pull him to get up.

‘Not yet,’ he’d think, and he’d wonder why he thought that. He knew why, but for Sinclair it was just too hard to admit. He died a long time ago, his will at least. The dreams he had, those little things that the spider called Fate didn’t deem worthy to fit into his web. He missed them, and still wanted them. When he had kids he thought that he’d give it to them, but he couldn’t burden them like that. His dreams would have to die along with him. It was funny to think that there was a time in his life when he wanted to change the world. He supposed that he did, he added to the population, changed a couple statistics, but that was a shallow comfort. Life was not what he wanted it to be. It would seem that in the end, all he would end up having was his spirit.

A lot of times throughout his life, he would ask himself, ‘what am I willing to sacrifice?’ The answer would mostly turn out blank, though some days when he felt particularly motivated he would think things like happiness, or free time, or family. These were fruitless ambitions though, and led him nowhere. His life came and went. In the brief flash he was given as it buzzed pass him, he saw the prospects of a happier home, a more fulfilling career, and even grander things, like becoming so influential that he came to inspire people to be the best that they could be, and in so doing, change the world for the better. He got this glimpse, and before he could reach out it was gone. Life had left him with nothing but his hopes and dreams, all things that were meaningful once, but were shallow now.

So ends our story of Sinclair. Alone in his house he would brew his despair, and eventually pass away. His dreams however, do not die with him. It was a mistake he made, maybe from his own ego, to think that he was alone in his ambition. His dream was one shared by many others, and among those people there are the ones who know they aren’t alone, and that they have to do it, if not for themselves then for the ones that tried and failed. This is a group effort, and if so much as one person succeeds then it’ll all be worth it.

I could live with that.

———————————————————————

The wording of this is janky as hell, but I’m proud of it. It was 2am when I wrote it, and at that point I was mostly just letting thoughts flow.

[painterofhorizons]

I mean...

I wrote this last night after 2am and it did feel intense writing it, but reading it now I know I can do even better and get the mood I was aiming for even more on point, so this is pretty much draft something, but yeah, here you go with what exactly I did.

And if we go for this version, I assume that’s pretty much the end of Alex&Fred. Guess she needs a different fuck buddy for later - hey, good opportunity to also make a new OC for 2022, don’t you think? :D

Anyways, big content warning for pretty explicit violence, I mean still in the way I usually deal with it, but yeah. I don’t think it’ll get more than this with in writing wise. Things go down. Badly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She didn’t remember much of the night it all exploded.

Looking back, she didn’t remember what was said or done to make it start - stop - it was the night where it all stopped, the yelling, the arguments, and the misunderstandings - it just all exploded and it all stopped. It went down with a bottle of something in his hand and two more empty in the drain. It went down with the taste of blood in her mouth because she bit her lip when he grabbed her hair and forcefully pulled her head back, and it ended with a fist in her face and another one to her stomach, and then countless minutes she didn’t recall at all.

Counting the bruises she found later, those she had no memory of the how or when or why, it had been long minutes that followed, blacked out by her brain in an attempt to at least keep her sane if she wasn’t able to keep herself safe. Because if she didn’t remember what happened it couldn’t upset her later. It couldn’t break her. It couldn’t haunt her, again and again, so her mind just went blank for minutes straight-

until she started coughing because her face was pressed unto the workbench and she inhaled wood dust, his elbow digging deep into her back while he pressed her down on the workbench.

Her heartbeat dropped. Within the blink of an eye she was painfully aware of the situation again, she was wide awake yet unable to fight back or move or even say something. She was fifteen again, pressed down on a table like this, cold metal surface on her cheek while she cried, arm twisted behind her back, unable to struggle, to move or breathe.

Tears shot into her eyes while she coughed and inhaled more dust from the workbench, making her cough more, while his elbow pinched her down and her head was trapped in a situation decades ago.

She was begging him to stop, crying, inarticulate words, dust mixing with tears mixing with blood in her face, heart beating so hard against the pressure on her chest that was filled with fear and fear and fear and she was fifteen again and dying and she was begging him to stop-

And he stopped.

She didn’t know why or what he did or what she said but he stopped and the pressure on her chest lifted and he backed away and she was still face down on the workbench, shaking hands, tears running down her face, not a bit of pride and self-worth left, just dust mixed with tears mixed with blood because she bit her lip when he grabbed her hair and pulled it back and her ears were ringing and her heart beat so hard that all she heard was blood whooshing in her head that hurt like hell with every desperate too fast too hard heart beat-

She had to move but she couldn’t. She lay there for minutes and minutes - five ten fifteen or more - unable to move, she was fifteen and dying and she tasted metal and dust and salt while she was still sobbing like a child.

When she felt a hand on her back, gentle, so gentle, she pushed herself up, pushing him away, tumbling backwards blinded by dust and tears in her eyes, hissing at him-

Or maybe she hissed at him first, telling him to back off, and then  tumbled backwards, hitting her shoulder against the shelf behind her.

She didn’t remember.

She didn’t look at him.

She just pressed her hands against her chest because her heart beat so fast so hard so painful just one beat more and her chest would break and her head spun and everything hurt and everything felt numb and dizzy and heavy and she couldn’t-

She hissed fuck off or go or I hate you, she didn’t remember if she even got a single word out and she didn’t care while her heart beat so hard her chest felt like breaking.

She didn’t know where he was gone but he wasn’t close and that was enough and she needed a minute to catch her breath she needed to breathe

she couldn’t breathe

she needed to

she-

She sunk to the floor, wall in her back, arms covering her head resting on her knees, slowly rocking forth and back, trying to just breathe and slow down her heart beat that beat so hard her chest felt like breaking. Her head was empty, nothing running on repeat like a mantra, nothing to keep her sane and alive, nothing to hold on to, just pain and fear and the desperate need to breathe and slow down and catch her breath.

Frederick stayed away.

She didn’t even remember if at that point he was still with her in the workshop or had left or was somewhere else in the house - she was sitting on the floor covered in dust, wall in her back, rocking back and forth like it would change anything and help, trying to breathe while there was nothing on her mind that kept her sane, nothing that helped her survive, nothing but blank empty nothingness and pain and despair and blood and tears and dust in her mouth and on her face and all around her.

 When there were no tears left and her heart felt like it wanted to let her stay alive instead of giving her a heart attack, Alex crawled back on all four and pulled herself up on the wall again. She stumbled across the room to the sink on the other side, turning on the faucet with shaking hands. Exhausted numbness lay over every other sensation her body wasn’t ready to feel yet, not while she was still here, not with him somewhere around, not while her body didn’t know her somewhere else, somewhere safe - safer than here -

She knew she needed to function. She needed to stay calm and be clear enough to get away, because the only person who would get her out of here was herself. She flinched when the cold water met her bloody knuckles - she didn’t know where the blood came from, not on her hands, she didn’t remember fighting back or punching something but the water running over her hands felt like acid burning her skin. Her face felt just the same when she tried to clean up, nostrils twitching stressedly. The pain was there, but she knew it was only a fraction of what she’d feel later, her body holding back so she could function and get away.

Me, working on a chapter that already was Dramatic™, with best intentions and the plan to make it less dramatic.

*writing flow happens*

Oh look. I made it worse. Now it's like ten times as dramatic. I broke the characters. I broke them.

@sheeplessthings one hour ago Frederick was still a guy we could somehow keep up with. Now he's kinda a super villain. I just wrote a complete fallout. I... Don't know what happened.

[smutbangtan]

Office Files Part 1

Word Count: 3651

Summary: You are a lawyer at a major company. You’ve been given the responsibility to oversee an intern. 

Paring: Reader x Jimin x Namjoon x Jungkook

Genre: Smut

"Good morning Miss 'Y/L/N"

"Morning.." You replied to the front receptionist with a nod. You walked your way passed the waiting room then cubicles and other main offices surrounded by glass with extravagant interior decoration. You could hear your own heels against the marble floor as you passed other departments of the building. Once you entered into your own department through double glass doors, the place was already alive. You could hear people talking on their phones, or workers having discussions about a case. Everyone was dressed in business attire as usual. You sighed to yourself knowing exactly what was waiting for you in your office on a Monday morning. A shit load of work.

Katy was your receptionist she was a lot younger than you were and was located a few meters outside of your office. She was 18 or 19, you weren't entirely sure. Her personality made you want to slap her sometimes cause she was sickly sweet and bubbly, completely opposite to what you were. But you hired her because she knows how to do her job and quite well actually. Today she decided to wear a baby pink blouse with a skater skirt and heels. Her brunette hair tied in a bun with a few curls loosely hanging of the side. Katy saw you enter into the department and stood up immediately with a sticky note between her fingers.

"Morning! Miss Y/N I have a few messages for you today. They called this morning" She said hurriedly as she walked by your side towards your office. You turned your head with a half hearted smile and reached out her hand, waiting for the note. Katy handed the note over to you and continued talking as both of you walked into your office.

"Salter & Lawyers called, asking to make a time to see them about a business deal that was mentioned over a dinner 2 weeks ago?" You hummed in response as you looked over the note and noticing the lack of information on it.

"Mr Kevin called from the department of Justice and requested for you to call him back" While Katy continued, you placed the note next to your keyboard and sat down into your leather chair and leaned back with a soft sigh after placing your bag down. Since you were the head of the department, you were given your own office. It was sleek in design with a major artwork behind you and a 90 degree view of the city. You also had a full view of the people working outside off your office since it was made entirely of glass, but of course with a flick of a switch the glass can be frosted. While she spoke, you took note of her attire, and quirked a brow. She always wore colour, while you almost always wore blacks or nudes, mixed with grays. That's how you liked it. Today you wore a grey pencil skirt with a silk white blouse that reached to your elbows.

"Thank you, but.." You point to the sticky note "This one says only two words 'Namjoon and Intern'?"

Katy nodded and stood in front of your desk. "Oh yes! I wrote that down on Friday since you left early. Mr Namjoon said he wanted to speak to you, but since you already went home he requested for you to call him first thing in the morning"

"Ah..I'll call him right away" You shifted your eyes to the right of your desk and saw 3 files. Although 3 files might not seem a lot of work, but the content and time that is required to complete the work is mentally exhausting.

"Thank you Katy" You smiled at her briefly then turned on your laptop, assuming she knew it was time for her to leave. Katy fiddled with her fingers and stood there for a few moments looking at you with hesitation. You paused noticing that she hasn't left yet and lifted your gaze at her again. You raised your brows, motioning her to talk.

"Um.. Miss Y/L, I almost missed my train this morning, and didn't have time to grab a coffee, is it okay if I go down and quickly grab one from across the road?"

You sighed in relief, thinking it was some bad news from another department. "Oh for God's sake Katy! You don't need permission to go and grab a coffee! shit!" You chuckled "And grab me one too!" you added.

You don't blame her for being anxious around you half the time. There was one time when another receptionist fucked up on passing information which landed you and the company in deep water and financial loss. You openly and quite rudely yelled and fired her in front of her colleagues. To be frank you weren't very popular with the female workers so you were out of the loop with 'office gossip' or never invited to a girls night out. There was one lady you would talk to and would consider as a friend, but she was from another department and was currently on maternity leave. You only had a handful of friends but they worked elsewhere.

The moment Katy left, you heard another pair for footsteps entering into your office. You were already glued onto the laptop screen. You didn't bother looking up because you knew exactly who it was just by the woody and musky scent of cologne.

"I was expecting your call.." said the male voice. He ran his fingers across your glass desk then took a seat across from you. You stopped typing and looked up at him with a blank look on your face.

"I was about to call you, I got your note" You added with a blunt tone. You decided not to react to his presence every time he entered your office anymore.

Namjoon nodded at your response approvingly then leaned back on his chair, crossing his legs and fixing his tie. You scanned his attire and noticed he went with a fresh look today. A patterned black suit with a navy blue tie which matched perfectly with his blonde hair that was combed in such a way it looked like wave. He looked incredibly sexy. You clenched your jaw, hating the way how you still found him attractive. You both dated last year for over 3 months. You were the talk of the town, and people wondering how someone uptight like you could end up dating one of the most attractive and smartest guys from other department. To be honest your relationship with him was nothing but lust. There was no depth, even though you both tried. In the end it was agreed to end things before it got too awkward for the both of you. You both remained friends thankfully.

"I have some good and bad news" said Namjoom. He watched you as he drummed his slender fingers on the arms of the leather chair.

"Oh?" You responded and crossed your arms over your chest, expecting it to be something interesting. He always had a habit of handing you news like it was a guessing game. Namjoon grinned at your body language and did the same, crossing his arms.

"The good news is that Jin, had his baby. A baby girl, she was born last night around 2am I think"

You smiled suddenly and loosened your arms a little at the good news. You quickly reached down to your bag to grab your phone. "That's fantastic news! I'm so happy for Jin and Juli. I'll send her a text right away. I knew the baby was due soon, but not so soon." You was genuinely happy for your friend Juli. A little pang of guilt crossed you for a moment, you hadn't contacted her in a while to see how her pregnancy was going. You've been so caught up in your work. You felt terrible. You quickly sent her a text of congratulations.

Namjoon quietly watched you text, admiring your fingers and the way you held yourself. He wasn't too sure if he still had feelings for you, but he sure as hell knew that you were the most attractive woman he's been with. Not knowing how to break the bad news to you because he would know how you would react, but he decided to just say it anyway.

"You're going to have to take in an intern" He said suddenly. Namjoom blinked and pursed his lips into a thin line, waiting for your response.

You set down your phone and gritted your teeth. Once you heard his words, you knew it wasn't his decision but from someone above. Sure, you were the manager of this department but you didn't call the shot. Not yet anyway.

"What the fuck! I'm not taking in an intern. What am I? A fuckin 1st year?" You spat out. You flicked your hand up in the air indicating the people around you outside "Ask someone else!" You then pinched your nose and closed your eyes not believing what you just heard. A great way to start a Monday you thought. Namjoom talked quietly not wanting to start another one of your angry fits.

"I know you hate this, and you haven't taken in an intern in years but, as you know Jin isn't here. He's responsible for the newcomers and interns. I'm just as pissed off. I'm taking an intern too. The orders are coming from above. I'm just passing the information. We only have 3 this year and one of them are placed in this department. I can't rely on Taehyung, and to be honest I don't know how he's still working here and Ella is already hung up in accounts and dealing with the department of justice." He sighed and continued as he stood and brushed off his suit.

"He's CV shows he's got a great background in finance and justice. A little older than the other interns but he seems perfect for this department. Besides, who's better to show him the ropes then you? You're the best we've got in all the departments combined. Without you, we'd be still at loss" Namjoon said truthfully.

You also stood from your seat and walked around your desk to look up at him. "Oh please, save me the flattery" You said annoyingly. You leaned back on your desk with your hands resting on the edge with a grip. "When does the intern start?" narrowing your eyes at him and pursing your lips at the thought of an intern hovering around you like a lost puppy.

Namjoon licked his lips, once you saw your full attire he had this sudden urge to bend you over and fuck you on your desk. But instead he smiled sheepishly, knowing you gave in to the intern request.

"He starts today actually" He smile widened showing those dimples that he was so famous for. He was loving how frustrated you looked. That was one thing he enjoyed being with you. You were hot one minute, then cold the next. He never knew what was going through your mind. Possibly one of the reasons why the relationship never worked.

Instantly your eyes widened "WHAT?!, Do you have any idea how much work I have today?! I can't fuckin believe this!" You scoffed, not believing what just came out of Namjoon's mouth. How can the HR allow this? clearly they have no sympathy.

"In fact he's on his way now.." Added Namjoom with a laugh then slipped his slender hands into his suit pants. You swallowed hard, now only thinking about the work that's been piled up on you. Those messages you need to return, finalizing the financial agreement, now a fucking intern that's probably dumb as shit and needing you to do everything. While your thoughts were running wild, you failed to notice a young gentlemen heading towards your office.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Earlier 8:00am

In the waiting area, there were three gentlemen sitting quite nervously in their seats, dressed in freshly dry cleaned business suits. All three of them not knowing each other, one of them decided to speak first.

"Hey, Im Hoseok. Are you guys starting your internship today?" He smiled, even thought it looked a little forced. The other two both looked up and nodded from their phones. The other one started talking, looking a little relaxed now that the silence was broken.

"Yeah I just found out a couple of days ago, I'm a little nervous to be honest. I'm Jungkook by the way" He replied with a small smile. The third leaned back on his chair and ran his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh then nodded to the rest of them.

"I'm Jimn" he smiled a little, creasing his eyes to half moons. There was silence for a few moments until Jungkook spoke. "Do you know which department you're in?" The others shook their heads.

"I'm a clueless as what I'm expected to do. I suppose we'll be shadowing someone and get shown the ropes?" Replied Jimin as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Hoseok nodded in response then spoke.

"I just want to start doing the good stuff and start looking into cases" He grinned. Jungkook and Jimin also grinned, knowing exactly why they wanted to be here. They were the top of their class in college and also their previous jobs. To be accepted into an internship here meant you could work within the department of justice, a high profile lawyer or a broker dealing with millions of dollars. Their careers was set. Jungkook also leaned in with his elbows and lowered his voice before looking at the front receptionist to make sure no one was listening.

"I know we'd be shadowing some high profiles, but my friend said to watch out for a few people." Jimin looked over at Jungkook and arched a brow at him. "Who's your friend?" asked Jimin.

Jungkook flicked his hair off his eyes "Taehyung, he works in finance but, he keeps me posted on what happening inside. He told me girls here are super hot" Hoseok laughed and shook his head, not believing this guy is already talking about women in the morning.

"Oh yeah?" replied Jimin with a sheepish grin. "I can't wait."

"I think we should concentrate on doing our best?" said Hoseok with his arms crossed, hoping his words might change the subject. Jungkook ignored the last comment and continued to speak, mostly looking at Jimin now since he seemed to be more interested. "Yeah he also said some of the women are a bit uptight, and some guys are assholes. But overall it's a good place to work. Depending on the department, I have an idea where we might end up."

This caught Hoseok's attention again and listened in. "Oh?.." He looked a little surprised. Jungkook shifted his dark eyes back to Hoseok then Jimin. "Jin is his name, and he's in charge of interns. Taehyung said he's a relaxed guy and will give us great recommendations regardless. He's a softie." All three of them liked the idea of getting great references from this company. This is going to be a piece of cake they all thought. The guys bodies seem to have relaxed a little once Jungkook gave insight about what will happen. Jungkook continued "Look out for Y/N , Taehyung said she's the manager of the project department and is known as the Ice Queen"

Hoseok jumped in wanting to put at least some positive information into the gossip "I heard she's put in a lot of work in to the company, made it what it is today" Jimin looked over at Jungkook then Hoseok "I didn't know that.." Said Jimin as he leaned back on his seat, slipping his hands into his pockets. Jungkook looked a little annoyed being interrupted by Hoseok but continued "As I was saying, you don't want her as a boss." Hoseok looking uninterested again, he pulled out his phone and started going through social media. He didn't like the idea of bad mouthing someone without knowing them first, let alone in the same place as they worked. Once Jungkook stopped talking, all three of them waited quietly.

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

Katy looked through her emails and found one from Mr Namjoon which was sent a few moments ago. She lifted her eyes from her computer screen and looked into your office, watching you and Namjoom chatting away. The subject of the email read 'Urgent'. She clicked it open and read the email hurriedly, with a notepad on her side to take necessary notes if need be. The email read

Email: Miss Katy, at 8:30am could you please go to the waiting room and collect Miss Y/N's intern. I would like to introduce the intern before I leave Miss Y/N's office...

"Intern?" Whispered Katy to herself. Even though she's been here for little over a year, she knows you've haven't taken an intern for years. Katy quickly peeped over her computer screen again and looked into your office once more, watching Namjoom's body expressions then at yours. You looked pissed. She looked at the time on her computer screen and it said 8:27am "Shit" she said to herself. Reading the email one more time, she quickly wrote down the name of the intern and made her way to the main desk at the building.

Passing through the other departments and waving to a few of her friends she opened the main doors to the waiting room and three young men looked up at her. She was frozen for a moment, seeing these extremely attractive guys in front of her in suits. Their facial expressions showed they looked nervous or terrified like deer's in front of head lights. Immediately an image of your furious face flashed before her eyes, knowing you'd be pissed if she was even a minute late. Katy looked down at her sticky her note at the name of the person she was meant to collect, then remembered what Namjoom said in the email.

Email: don't forgot to tell them about Jin

She cleared her throat "Morning gentlemen. Congratulations in landing an internship with our company. Just to inform you, Jin who is in charge of interns is currently on parental leave, since his wife just had a baby. Last night actually!" she squeaked with happiness. Katy noticed how two of the men shot evil looks at one of them, the third looking dumb struck at the new information. Katy said out the name of the person on her sticky note and watched him stand up nervously and rub his hands on his thighs. She couldn't believe how attractive he was. She bit her lip nervously then talked as he approached her

"You'll be working with Y/N, and shadowing her" Katy smiled but couldn't help but noticed how his facial expressional changed just a slight bit before forcing a smile on his face. The other two remained in their seat and avoided eye contact. Was there some hidden joke that just occurred? She ignored it then smiled and said "Please follow me.."

_________________________________________________________________________________

Present

"In fact he's on his way now.." Added Namjoom with a laugh then slipped his slender hands into his suit pants. You swallowed hard, now only thinking about the work that's been piled up on you. Those messages you need to return, finalizing the financial agreement, now a fucking intern that's probably dumb as shit and needing you to do everything. While your thoughts were running wild, you failed to notice a young gentlemen heading towards your office.

Katy slipped past your glass door then allowed the gentlemen to walk in.

Namjoom turned on his feet and clapped his hands once in delight, at the sight of the new intern.

"Ah perfect timing!" He said with a cheesy smile.

He nodded at Katy, indicating a thank you and allowing her to leave. Your gaze hadn't moved over at the door yet since your mind was buzzing with the list of things to complete until your name was mentioned.

"Y/N, please meet your new intern"

You turned your gaze from the window and leaned off the desk to stand upright to formally introduce yourself. The first thing you saw was his dark red hair, which quite surprisingly suited him. His attire fitted him perfectly, showing his muscular form. The man reached out his hand, expecting you to shake it. And you quickly did with a firm grip. You shook it once and nodded in greeting with a brief smile which didn't really scream out welcome.

"Good Morning Miss Y/N, I'm Jimin"

Namjoon walked over and patted the man on the shoulder "You're in safe hands now" he said with a chuckle. Technically that was meant to be a joke on his part, knowing exactly how you may treat him. He was hoping you got the joke too. Namjoon looked over his shoulder and gave you a quick wink before he left your office. You watched him leave, then shifted your eyes back to the guy standing in front of you.

_________________________________________________________________________________

When Jimin walked into your office, he was expecting some 50 year old woman stomping around and angrily talking on her phone. But that wasn't what he saw at all. Instead, she saw a woman in her later 20's dressed in sleek office wear and heels which shouted money. Your hair draped off one shoulder like silk curtains. He wasn't going to let your soft features fool him. From what he's heard, you're dangerous and not the person to cross over. He mentally prepared himself, and knew that if he really wanted a place in this company, he's going to work hard. Even harder, knowing now that you're his boss now. He had to ooze confidence and knowledge.

"Ice Queen" He thought.

[floralseokjin]

;settle down (m)

pairing— min yoongi x reader, roommate! yoongi genre/warnings— smut, angst, fluff, slow buuurrrn, enemies to lovers words— 14,930

:: summary— An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…

note— this is a remastered version of the originally story I wrote called ‘and july’ (found here) that I wrote for suho back when I started this blog, albeit slightly (very?) different.

“Three months?!” You squeaked, your voice shrill as your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a choice. My mom misses me and she wants me to visit her over the summer. I can’t do anything about it,” your best friend Gian, apologised, biting her bottom lip nervously, her gaze meeting yours.

Wow, she must really feel that guilty… you hadn’t realised, and you sighed in defeat, “It’s okay Gian, really,” you reassured her, placing your hand over hers, “it’s just you know how I get about bills, I’m just worried about paying rent, that’s all — it’s okay, though, I’ll figure something out.”

You watched her swallow loudly, eyes beginning to flicker around, “um, about that Y/N,” she began, and you watched as she bit her lip more furiously, ripping off bits of dry skin, “I’ve kinda already sorted that out.”

You watched her smile weakly at you, and you nodded your head enthusiastically back at her for her to continue, feeling confused as to why she looked so nervous. This was good news. This meant you didn’t have to look for a last minute temporary roommate — or, worst scenario, try and find all the money to pay for rent yourself.

“Well, he needed somewhere to stay for a bit seeing as his lease just ran out at his last apartment… so, I said he could stay till I come back, or before then, whenever he —

“Gian, who’s he?” You cut her off, your tone demanding. You suddenly had a bad feeling, the story of an expired lease sounding familiar, as if you’d heard it before, and then the realisation washed over you. You knew who he was. Of course you did.

“Yoongi,” she squeaked out, her voice barely audible.

You were silent for a moment, trying to expel the anger out through your nose and as you breathed in and out deeply, Gian took this as a sign to carry on talking and explain further, “It was either this or him go back home. He didn’t have time to look for a new place so soon. It’ll be fine, Y/N — it’s only three months! He’ll probably be gone before then anyway!”

She kept going on and on, but to you she was just a muffle. You weren’t interested, the same two words just floating around in your head; three months. Three months. What the hell was she thinking? Gian knew you hated Yoongi with a passion and he hated you right back! This was a recipe for disaster. Why had he even agreed to this in the first place? He would be dead by the time she got back —murdered, and you would be in jail, your whole life ruined, all because your best friend was an idiot.

“Please say you agree to this,” she begged, clutching you hand, aware you hadn’t said anything since she’d uttered Yoongi’s name.

You sighed in defeat. There wasn’t much else you could do. You didn’t have a choice but to agree with it. “I’m going to have to be ok with it, aren’t I?” You spoke angrily, “I don’t have a choice — I need someone to pay the damn rent!”

Gian squealed in happiness at your reply, clapping her hands together loudly, “thank you! Oh, thank you, Y/N! I’m really going to miss you, you know — bestest friend in the whole wide world!” She grinned, and you just grimaced, gritting your teeth tighter as you replied, “you owe me.”

It was just a week later when Yoongi moved in, and you mourned the loss of Gian like she was dead. This wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to live with a boy — especially one called Min Yoongi. He was horrible; miserable, sarcastic and moody, and now you were stuck with him for the next three months. The thought made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, even more so when you saw all the shit he was moving in.

“Why do you have the whole entire contents of your apartment with you?” You asked him, as you watched him bring like the fifteenth box upstairs.

“What do you mean?” He dead panned, dropping the box in the middle of the living room floor with a thud. “These are my things and I need them to live.”

“What, you need about fifty sets of headphones and three desktop screens?” You asked, picking up a pair of headphones that had been left on the coffee table and looking towards the computer equipment that was beside the door to his Gian’s room.

“Watch it!” He scolded, grabbing the headphones off you and placing them around the back of his neck. “Those are my favourite ones.”

“Seriously — this is a place to live and sleep, not your office space!” You rolled your eyes. “Couldn’t you have left some of this shit at your parents’, or even in storage? Where the hell is it all gonna go?”

Yoongi shrugged, turning his back to you as he began to unpack the box, “my room, the living room — maybe your room if space is tight…”

“First, it’s Gian’s room — not yours, and secondly, none of your shit is going anywhere near my room! If there’s nowhere for it to go, take it outside!” You half-yelled, “and anyway, don’t you have a studio—” you mimicked, using finger quotations to emphasise, “—half way across town you could put this shit into.”

“Stop calling it shit!” He whined, “and of course I need to be able to work from home too. How do you expect me to do that without my stuff when I get inspired?”

“It’s not your home,” you shot childishly, but not even caring anymore. The conversation had already turned bitter, and unlike it usually played out, there was no Gian to tell you to stop. “Sorry, Mr. Hot shot, I forgot I was living with Jay Z — tell me, how many songs have you produced — OH! What was that?” You exclaimed, pretending not too hear his non-existent reply. “Oh, yeah, I forgot — none!”

“I have, too!” He got out, sounding highly offended.

“Your own don’t count,” you shot. “I haven’t heard any on the radio, so it’s nothing to me — Just face it, you aren’t as hot as you think you are. Just small fry, interning for the big boys. Tell me Yoongi, is it fun making people coffee every day of your life?” You smirked nastily.

His face was like thunder when he finally turned to face you, his eyes practically black as he stared you down, “fuck you,” he spoke menacingly, and with that he stormed into Gian’s room, trying to escape your giggles of triumph.

“Looks like living me was a bad idea!” You called as you made your way into your own room, smirking and loving the feeling of being slightly evil, until that was, he shouted back and wiped the smirk right off your face.

“Tough luck, doll — I’m not going anywhere! Your plan isn’t working!”

You sighed out loud, slamming your door closed before you slumped onto your bed, rolling over on your back to look up at the ceiling angrily. How the hell did I get here, you thought. Oh yes — Gian. Your precious friend Gian, forcing you to live with the man that you hated. In fact, that wasn’t the only thing she was guilty off. She was culpable of a multitude of crimes that stretched out for two long years. She had been the one to welcome Yoongi with open arms into your friendship group, and of course — they had loved him right away. However, not you… never you.

You had taken an instant dislike to him, and the feeling was mutual on his part too. In your honest opinion, it had all been on him anyway. He had been the one to insult you, and if you were again being honest — to hurt you. Right when you first met, and Gian had wanted to cheer you up after a bitter break up. Your boyfriend had ended things just two weeks prior, out of the blue and you had been left heartbroken.

Gian had been adamant that you meet her friend from pysch class, and granted, the first time you had met Yoongi, you hadn’t been feeling too great, you were moody and barely spoke all night when he tried to make conversation, but that didn’t give him the right to act like a Class A jerk after that. It didn’t excuse him for what he said about you when you had overheard him talking to his friend as you came out the restroom.

You still remembered it word for word — two years on. Well, I’m not being a dick, but I can sort of understand why her boyfriend broke up with her. She seems a bit standoff-ish. I bet Mommy and Daddy pay for her rent and her weekly grocery bill. Privileged snob.

You weren’t, and he found that out as the months dragged by, but the damage was done. His first impression of you and further developed yours of him, and there was no going back. You couldn’t forgive him for what he’d said, no matter how small and meaningless a stranger’s opinion was of you. Even now, two years on and completely over your past relationship; his words still stung. You didn’t like how he was so quick to judge — made a quick assumption so abruptly, when you had only just met.

Things has gone from bad to worse after that, become petty in your bickering and nature, until you pretty much blanked each other nowadays, settling on a hi here and a goodbye there whenever necessary. Only now, it looked like that would be changing, seeing as you were roommates… and for the millionth time this week, you wondered what the hell Gian had been playing at?

It was 2am, and the dull sounds of a girl moaning echoed through your wall and bounced around your room. Yoongi hadn’t even been here a week yet, and he was already acting as if he owned the place. You had work tomorrow morning and the last thing you wanted to be doing right now was listening to some girl getting fucked. She sounded liked a wailing banshee, and the last resort was to bury your head under the covers, grabbing your pillow and holding it over your head, ignoring the jealous ache that throbbed through your body.

Listen here, it had nothing to do with Yoongi — at all. It was just you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had sex — well, you could, and it has been three months ago, and right now anything was able to make you miss the sensation, even some stranger’s fake pornstar screams.

However, overpowering the jealously was your hate for Yoongi. How dare he have the audacity to bring a girl back to yours already. He may be staying here for three months, but he was a guest nonetheless. He was staying in Gian’s room for crying out loud. She’d have to disinfect the damn thing before she could use it again. It was disgusting and the only saving grace was the fact you couldn’t hear him. You thought you’d actually vomit if that was the case.

Really speaking, you should probably bang on the wall and yell at them to shut the fuck up, or just kick her out altogether. It was your place, not his, but the embarrassing possibilities were too much, so instead, you thought, you were going to give him a piece of your mind! After work, he wouldn’t know what hit him.

Only it didn’t happen after work, it was before, when you were walking out of your room bleary eyed from lack of sleep, catching Yoongi ushering his date from last night out the front door. His voice had an edge to it, pretty obvious he didn’t want her here anymore and it was further solidified by his words.

“I could stay, Yoongi — make you breakfast,” the girl cooed, leaning closer into him and you watched as he quickly dodged out of the way, his speech fast as he cut her off, “No, I have to go to work, sorry baby.”

False sadness filled his voice and you rolled your eyes at the stupid pet name he had given her — that, and the fact he was lying. He didn’t have work today — it was his day off.

“I’ll phone you soon, okay?” You heard him carry on, and you scoffed quietly. That was a lie too. In your two years of knowing him, he had never once called any girl back.

As he finally managed to get her out, leaning back against the door as he closed it with an audible sigh of relief, he noticed you making your way into the kitchen, a woman on a mission for your morning coffee.

“New girlfriend, I see,” you noted and he laughed in response. “As if,” he replied, following behind you as he rummaged through the cupboards for some cereal.

As he reached up for the top shelf you noticed the way his t-shirt rode up, revealing his stomach a little, his sweats hung low, and you quickly averted eye contact, feeling awkward. What the hell was wrong with you?! Just because you were going through a dry spell didn’t mean you should stoop that low. Come on Y/N, have some decency for yourself, you thought.

“Good, actually,” you retorted finally, trying to fill your mind as you cursed at yourself, and you turned in time to see him look slightly shocked, his eyebrows raised as if he was anticipating for you to continue. “That means I don’t have to hear you two going at it again — seriously gross, Yoongi,” and you watched as his face dropped slightly, unexplainable and unplaceable, before it was gone, as if it had never happened, and then it was replaced by a smug smile, his eyes closing into nothing as he judged you.

“Someone’s just jealous, huh?” and you went to scoff, but he carried on, “because they’re a shrivelled up old prune and no one wants them? Tell me Y/N, has another man actually touched you since your ex broke up with you?” He remarked nastily, and you wanted so hard to act as if his words hadn’t bothered you, but you felt the twinge of hurt anyway. Of course, it wasn’t true — he knew that too.  He’d seen you on dates and with new boyfriends. He had just wanted to hurt you, to stick the knife in, because that’s what he liked to do best. “Is that the best you’ve got, Yoongi?” You asked, concentrating on keeping your voice steady, and smiling to yourself proudly when you did. “Now, excuse me —” you started, leaning away from the counter you had been stood by, “— some of us do actually have work to get to,” and with that you flounced off, coffee in hand, back to your bedroom before he even had time to reply.

Over the next few weeks, things went better than you expected. Of course Yoongi still brought girls around and proceeded to have sex with them so loudly, most of the time it just sounded like they were in pain rather than pleasure, and of course, he was still as annoying, moody and condescending as ever, but over time, you just learnt to get used to it. There wasn’t much you could do about it anyway, and if you were being honest, it wasn’t that bad really, mostly because you kept yourself to yourself and he did the same.

Living with a guy wasn’t so bad as well, but there was that one time he caught you changing in the bathroom after having a shower. You’d thought Yoongi wasn’t coming home from work until later, so, in true ‘yay — I’m home alone’ fashion, you had left the door open. It wasn’t until you had your back to the door, underwear already on and strapping your bra in place, that you got the feeling you weren’t alone…

You turned your head behind you to check the situation out and saw Yoongi there, half way to his bedroom, frozen it seemed, and when he saw you noticed him, his eyes became wide, rabbit caught in headlights some would say, his mouth opening before he even knew what he was going to say, fumbling over nonsensical words that you couldn’t make out. It wasn’t until you let out a screech of, “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HERE, NOW!” that he got the message and jerked into motion, scarpering into his room as fast he could.

Oh great— now you lived with a peeping Tom… another thing to add to the list, but instead of feeling creeped out, you felt weirded out. Yoongi hadn’t been looking at you in a pervy way, more like… you didn’t know, but he wasn’t leering anyway. It was a look you couldn’t place, and after that, confusingly or not, he had become exceptionally jerky the few days that followed the incident.

You couldn’t hold it against him anyway, catching an eyeful of you partly clothed, because you did that on a daily basis. You don’t know why he felt like he didn’t need to wear any clothes around the apartment, must have been the fact he had made himself well and truly comfortable here, and there was many a time you had to avert eye contact as he traipsed  around in his just his underwear, and it wasn’t even just that, it was the way he looked, all rough and just getting out bed, hair untamed and in his eyes— even the light stubble hairs on his chin did something to you, and it was getting out of control. You didn’t know why it sent jolts of excitement through your body every time you saw him like that, and it was hard to stay mad at Yoongi for eyeing you up in the bathroom, when you were doing the same thing. You blamed your dry spell — it was making you do crazy things… like lusting after your sworn enemy.

You quietly slipped through the front door in hopes that if Yoongi was still awake he wouldn’t hear you. You had just come back from a date, which surprisingly had gone pretty well — You didn’t fancy the night being ruined by his incessant teasing — but it was too late. He was surprisingly in the living room, watching a film it seemed. You hadn’t seen him in the living room once since he’d began living here.

“Oh, there you are! Where have you been till this time? Dirty stop out,” he called over, teasing you with a smirk, and you froze, like a burglar caught in the act, shoulders stiff as you inwardly sighed.

“Nowhere, just with a friend,” you lied, reaching down to take off your heels. You didn’t really understand why you were lying. You knew you didn’t want him to tease, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t take it if he did…but maybe it was something else you couldn’t put your finger on… It was strange, and you frowned to yourself as you placed your bag over the coat stand.

“Are you tired?” He asked, and you shook your head, unsure of why he was asking. “Come join me, I’m watching a film. I’m looo-nely,” he whined, shifting on the sofa as he yawned, stretching his arms out, and his fringe fell into his eyes. Your stomach flipped, and you blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Of course you thought Yoongi was handsome —who wouldn’t? They’d have to be blind to not see it, because even you — who disliked him, knew he was. It wasn’t the fact that you found him attractive that unsettled you, it was the fact that it was this setting; this atmosphere, that made you nervous, and you couldn’t pinpoint why. He was acting different tonight. His voice was cheerful and he never acted like this around you, and naturally, your eyes went to the coffee table. Sure enough there were empty bottles of beer there. He was drunk — or tipsy, same thing really. It all meant he wasn’t acting the way he usually did around you. However, you couldn’t help the overwhelming urge to join him like he’d asked. Maybe you were a masochist, who knew.

“Are you sure you aren’t tired yourself?” You asked, taking in his appearance as you joined him, sitting right next to him. He looked tired, his face slightly swollen and his eyes bloodshot.

It was his turn to shake his head now as he replied, “I need to watch a film to help me wind down —  I’ve had a stressful day,” he hummed, turning back to the television.

“Want to speak about it?” You asked, surprising yourself at your genuineness. Since when had you cared what was going on in Yoongi’s life?

“No, it’s okay,” he smiled at you, and your stomach flipped again. You had never been on the receiving end of that before. “Just watch this film with me? That’s enough.”

You nodded and settled down, your head lulling to the side as you leant against the back of the sofa. You had planned on going straight to your room and daydreaming about how handsome your date had been, psyching yourself up for date number two that he had promised you, and trying to curb your excitement at the thought of your dry spell coming to an end —but now here you were, sharing a sofa with the roommate you hated, who was being weirdly nice to you in his drunken state. He wasn’t usually like this when you’d had a few, but maybe that was because you were usually drunk with him too, on the rare occasion Gian had dragged you out the same time he was joining. Maybe you being sober made a difference, who knew, but you agreed with yourself to take it with a grain of salt. Maybe this was the start of some so-called truce…?

“What’s the film?” You asked, before he pressed play again, and he shrugged, “the grudge,” leaving him followed by a grin when you whined in annoyance.  

“Why, is little old Y/N scared of horror films?” He laughed, his eyes twinkling as he hit play, and you shot him evils, “No, I’m not scared. It’s just I’ve seen this film like a hundred times before.”

“Ok, ok, I believe you,” he shot, but his eyes called your bluff. “Now shush, be quiet and watch it.”

You settled down quickly, trying to ignore the little white lie you had just told. You had seen the film a lot, but truthfully, that didn’t mean you weren’t scared. Horror films were great to watch in the day, when the sun was out — but in the night, it was a totally different ball game. Even if you were watching it with someone else; you still had to sleep alone tonight, and just as you were lost in your thoughts, a jump scare happened causing you to scream, unconsciously burying your head into Yoongi’s shoulder.

You were too frightened to realise what you’d done, but once you heard him pause the film and chuckle lowly your heart beat began to return to normal and you jolted away from him, embarrassed.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not scared,” he noted sarcastically, carrying on chuckling, and you whacked his arm, annoyed at his teasing. “You can use my arm as a protective shield if you want, I don’t mind,” he shrugged. “Of course you need a brave man to keep you safe.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and scoffed, “I don’t think you’re a very brave man, Yoongs.”

You waited for his witty response (or pissy, who knew really…), but instead there was silence, and you looked up to see him watching you, a small smile tugging on the right side of his mouth.

“What?” You asked, looking confused and feeling vulnerable. He’d never given you that kind of smile before either.

“Nothing, I just like it when you call me Yoongs,” he continued to smile, his voice oddly soft.

“Everyone we know calls you it,” you retorted, feeling oddly defensive, a heat creeping up your cheeks, and you prayed to God you weren’t blushing right now.

“You never do though, and besides it sounds nice when you say it.” He was still smiling down at you and you began to feel even more awkward. You had no words, what could you say to that — you’re drunk…? You couldn’t, it didn’t make any sense either way, and you quickly cleared your throat, taking the remote out his hand. “Quickly, let’s get this film over and done with before I chicken out.”

“Ah, so you admit your scared?” He asked, looking away from you now, voice low as if he’d realised what he had just been doing and saying.

“Fine,” you give in, wanting to avoid all awkwardness. “I’m scared, happy now?”

“Only if you use this,” he said, holding his arm out towards you, watching you from the corner of his eyes, “to hide behind. Go on,” he urged when he saw you hesitate. “It will make me feel better for forcing you to watch this stupid film.”

“Okay,” you managed to get out, grabbing a hold of his sleeve and leaning back against the sofa again, bringing it with you. If it made him happy, you thought.

The rest of the film was watched in silence, no more talking, as if Yoongi had realised he’d stepped over the non-existent mark with you, and you tried your best not to jump again at the scares. Surprisingly, with the safety of Yoongi’s arm to hide behind, it was all better though. Too better in fact, and you found yourself dropping off, your eyelids fluttering shut, the warmth of his body making you sleepy as you practically fell against it, his scent filling your nose and soothing you to sleep…

You must have fallen asleep for real, because the next thing you knew, you had woken up in your bed; still fully clothed, but with a blanket on top of you. You rolled on your side, dazed and confused, looking at your alarm clock to see it was 4am. You groaned slightly when you realised how you must have gotten here, but mostly in disbelief. Had Yoongi really carried you into your room? On second thoughts, had you really fallen asleep against him? You whined. So embarrassing, and not to mention strange. Why didn’t he just wake you up?

Too sleepy and in a sog to bother getting changed, you buried your head under the blanket, and even though you knew you should be falling asleep to the memories of your date that night, you couldn’t help but remember the feel of Yoongi… his warm skin and the smell of him, soapy, but with the mild stench of alcohol, which at the time had been oddly soothing… and still was.

After that night, that both of you never talked about by the way, things began to change. Although you didn’t see him very often with your conflicting work schedules, he seemed to ease up on his general jerkiness and you suppose you did the same. It was confusing more than anything. You no longer felt yourself filled with bubbling anger when you remembered his existence; instead, you found yourself laughing at the little things you saw him do, as you both got used to living with each other. It had been nearly two months now, and you were surprised at how fast the time was going.

It had gotten to the point now where you would even watch television together and movies. You initiated small talk and you were able to have a steady conversation without it ending in bickering. You learned to live in sync and, dare you say harmony. Just this morning you had both laughed together after you caught him tripping over his own feet before leaving for work.

You even found yourself excusing things he did that used to annoy you tenfold, like leaving dishes in the sink and now, instead of whining at him, you shook it off, smiling and telling him you would wash it before you left for work yourself. At this rate Gian was going to have a fit when she came back and found you guys playing happy families.

It was a Friday afternoon, and you had another date tonight — your fourth to be exact, and you were excited, albeit it slightly nervous. This was the first time you would be going over his, and you had left work early to take a shower, making sure to shave and moisturise before putting on a pair of shorts and a vest to lay on your bed to read a book — the lotion needed time to sink into your skin. It had been a long time since anybody other than you had touched this body and you needed to make sure it was as smooth and as soft as could be. This was the night, you were sure of it.

Whilst reading you could hear the low hum of Yoongi’s television, and you gathered he was playing video games by the string of steady curses that were leaving him every once and a while, and to your surprise, five minutes later you heard a tap at your door.

“Y/N, are you in here? Can I come in?” You ignored the flutter of your heart a little, and called out a yes, instantly regretting it when you realised how little you had on, reminding you of the time he caught you in your underwear, but it was too late as he entered, game controller in one hand.

“Do you have any— uh, b-batteries?” He asked, stuttering in shock as he caught a look at you, his eyes instantly looking down at his feet as he waved the controller around, signalling that his had run out.

You nodded, quickly sitting up but keeping the book tightly in your hands, as if it was protecting your modesty or something. “I’m sure I have some in my side drawer,” you indicated with a nod of your head and he walked forward, eyes trained on the bedside table, his body crouched down centimetres away from yours that was sitting awkwardly on the bed, as he opened the top drawer and began rifling through it.

“Why do you have ear plugs?” He asked, sight bewilderment in his voice as you looked over to see him holding the buds in his fingertips.

“Um,” you began, suddenly feeling awkward, “because of you…” and you watched him raise his eyebrow in confusion, so you carried on, “I told you, you were loud,” you indicated, widening your eyes at the last word, and you saw him open his mouth in a little ’o’ shape, understanding you completely now, his own bulging for a moment.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, turning towards your drawer and putting them back. You noticed his cheeks turn a cute pink tinge, and you hid a smile —  was he embarrassed? Cute. If you were being honest, you hadn’t needed to use those ear buds for a while now — he hadn’t brought a girl back in a long time.

“Yes! Here they are!” He half-yelled in triumph, when he pulled out two batteries and you watched in horror as he plonked himself down next to you on the side of your bed, back turned, his butt sitting only millimetres from your legs as he replaced the old batteries. You went back to reading your book, trying to preoccupy yourself as you began to wonder why you were feeling so weird when it came to Yoongi.

It didn’t work however; your brain was still going ninety to the dozen. It was probably because he was being nice to you. He had never been nice to you in the history of you two knowing each other. It also, maybe-probably had something to do with the fact you fell asleep on him too… and the fact that he had carried you to your bed… It was weird, and awkward, knowing that he had put you on your bed and placed a blanket over you. Even a couple of weeks on and you still weren’t over it.

“What you reading?” He asked suddenly, looking over his shoulder, and you jumped, pulled out of your thoughts involuntarily.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual, placing the book down on your bed.

“Sounds completely boring,” he teased, before shrugging. “If I had known you were home from work early I would have asked if you wanted to Netflix or something. We could have watched the last episode of Stranger Things.”

“I, er…” You were lost for words. He probably didn’t know you had been back because you had made sure to be extra quiet. You and Yoongi had been hanging out a lot lately and it was confusing you. There was no more arguing, no more bickering and shooting jabs at each other, and you had found yourself purposely trying to avoid him now. It was getting too weird, and right on cue, it got weirder.

“Budge up!” He told you, turning around and nudging your legs with his hands and you jumped. His hands were cold and they had just touched your bare skin!!! His fingers gripping your calves as he urged you across the bed so he could fit on too, back pressed against the headboard, placing the Xbox controller on your side table. Tingles shot through you, and you shook your head trying to erase whatever was happening to your body right now. Yoongi seemed unaffected — or if he was, he did a good job of hiding it. You suddenly felt naked.

“I-I’m,” you stuttered, forcing yourself to sound normal, even though your heart rate was going through the roof. You wanted to tell him you had a date and that he’d need to leave in a bit, but the words wouldn’t come out.

You could smell him again, all fresh and clean and you inwardly groaned, knowing that your bed would now be smelling of him too now. As if he could read your mind and wanted to test you, he hummed to himself, looking over at you, “You smell nice.”

What the hell? Please, someone tell you what was going on? Was this his new tactic on winding you up now? Be so nice it drove you crazy? Was this his ploy to make him look like the better person? Anything was possible, and everything was flooding your mind.

“Yoongs, you’re game?” You reminded him, looking over at your side table. Wasn’t he in the middle of a game right now? You could use this as a way of getting him out before you spontaneously combusted.

He shrugged, silently shushing you, before he made a sound, like he’d realised something. “Oh, I could have asked you to play video games with me! It’s fun, right? I’d love to beat your ass.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes. There he was, the Yoongi you knew and loved loathed.

You lifted your eyebrow questionably, judging him before you spoke. “Yoongi, are you seriously bored right now? Is that why you’ve come here to annoy me?” The nervousness was ebbing away now, feeling comfortable as you began to jest again, before he laughed weakly and pressed his head back against the wall, his fringe falling in his eyes.

“Actually, I’m just really stressed… and sad, maybe…” he admitted, even though he was still smiling, albeit rather crestfallen.

“Why, what’s up?” You asked, taken back by your concern and you leaned in closer, strange feelings of worry taking over you.

“It’s just work… I don’t know, sometimes I just think I’m not getting anywhere. I’m not learning anything new and, I don’t know… maybe I am just crap at producing.”

The words spilled out of him quickly, with slight hesitance and you guessed he had been thinking them for a long time, not being able to confess them. Your stomach jumped a little — he had chosen to voice his concerns with you? How come?

“Don’t be stupid! What makes you think that?” You scoffed, and he shrugged, his hair still in his eyes, and you suddenly had the urge to sweep it out the way and even upturn the frown that appeared on his face. You wouldn’t, of course, but you had the urge…

“Well, like you said, I’ve only ever produced my own songs, and with how long I’ve been doing this, you’d think I’d catch a break soon, but everything I do never ends in anything… no matter how hard I try.”

His voice was small now and he pulled his knees to him, playing awkwardly with his fingers as he clicked them — a nervous habit. He was letting you in on his deepest darkest fears, and before you could stop yourself, you were reaching for him, your hand coming out to grip his shoulder and nudge him encouragingly.

“Don’t be stupid,” you brushed off, “you’re amazing at what you do,” and he looked over at you, shock in his eyes as his fringe fell, his mouth open. “One day you’ll get your big break. I’m sure of it, and when you do all your friends will be there supporting you — me included… if you want me to, that is.” You added as an afterthought, realising that you had gotten a bit too passionate with your pep talk.

He smiled then, a big gummy one as his eyes twinkled, chuckling slightly. “I thought you didn’t like my music… but of course I want you to support me.”

“I may have just been pissy when I said that. I actually do like it,” you grinned shyly, feeling embarrassed for ever saying such a stupid thing to him when he had been so worried about it.

“Good,” was all he quipped, a playful smirk on his face, but you could see it in his eyes that he was pleased.

Something was changing, the air was close as you smiled at him, lost in a moment for a second — your little moment, and you almost forgot you had to get ready for your date, that was until you your eyes caught your alarm clock behind his shoulder.

“Look… I sorta wanted to talk to—

“OH SHIT!” You interrupted, your voice loud as you flew off the bed, dropping the book you’d been reading in the floor. “I need to get ready!”

You quickly grabbed at your outfit hung up outside your closet, the funny feeling in your stomach because of Yoongi disappearing with the rush you were under, thoughts of doing your makeup and hair already filling your head instead of thoughts of what the hell had just gone on.

“Where are you going?” He asked, sounding mildly interested, albeit a little put out seeing as you’d interrupted whatever he was about to say. He sat up, placing his feet on the floor, grabbing the game controller as he did so.

“I have a date,” you answered casually, the words sounding weird once they’d left your mouth. You hadn’t told him about your dates yet — it was none of his business, really?

“A date?” He repeated, disbelief filling his voice, and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t sound so shocked,” you teased, placing the clothes on your bed.

“No, it’s not that… I just didn’t know you were seeing someone.” He backtracked, and you give him a pointed look. “No offence, Yoongi, but you’re hardly Gian. I’m not going to tell you every detail of my life.”

He was silent after that, his eyebrows furrowed together and you sighed, pulling him up by the arms, which he let you, as if he was in a trance. “Now, shoo, I have to get ready!” You exclaimed, ushering him out the door playfully. “Oh — and don’t wait up!” You added, grinning madly. “This is like, our fourth date and I think tonight may be the night.”

You giggled, taking one last look at his face in the doorway, his mouth open and his expression still in shock, before you closed the door in his face and began to get ready.

It wasn’t until around 3am when you returned, once again creeping inside in fear of waking up Yoongi, even thought you were sure he’d be in bed by now. WRONG — he was in the living room, on the sofa, and he eyed you as you came in, his face unimpressed.

“Well?” He demanded, and you frowned, confused by what he meant.

“Well, what?”

“Did you get lucky?” He asked crudely, and you gasped out loud, your eyes instantly moving down to the coffee table to see empty bottles again. Oh — he was drunk.

“Yoongi, what the fuck? You can’t just go around asking me questions like that!” You hissed, your voice a whisper as if the neighbours could here you.

“Well, you said I wasn’t Gian. So, here we go,” he shrugged. “I’m all ears. Did you fuck him? Was he any good?”

“Yoongi,” you repeated, visible shock in your voice now and your cheeks began to heat up. Why was he even asking you these questions? Instead of fuelling him, you began to make your way to your room, only to be interrupted by him again and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“I mean, you probably did, but how come he sent you home? Didn’t want you to stay the night.”

You turned yo face him abruptly, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but he carried on, and your blood ran cold. “I wouldn’t blame him if so.”

He sounded so causal as the words rolled of his tongue you were stunned for a moment, all insult you were planning leaving you as you felt shame wash over you. What did he mean by that? You tried to keep your crestfallen face hidden well as you spoke, your voice clipped as you kept it steady.

“Yoongi, do yourself a favour and go to bed. You’re drunk.”

You didn’t let your resolve fall until you got into your room and then you kicked your bed, anger filling you. How dare Yoongi make you feel guilty for having sex with someone. You’d only come home because you had work in the morning. Why did he have to get drunk and ruin everything? Become a jerk again in 2.5 seconds, and you weren’t going to pretend what he’d said hadn’t hurt you, because it had. It was just like that time two years ago, but only this time worse, because he had said it to your face. He’d ruined everything.

The next day, you arrived home from work later than usual, dreading facing Yoongi when you got in. He’d been asleep when you’d left this morning, his beer bottles still strewn across table, and he’d probably be in when you got home. You wondered if he would apologise, but that went out the window when you put your key through the door. A laugh so annoying and penetrating you winced. It was oddly familiar… and when you looked up, you realised why. It was the girl Yoongi had brought back with him a few weeks ago. She was back… after all this time…

“Oh, hey Y/N,” he greeted you, as if last night hadn’t happened, and you noticed his arm slung around the girl’s shoulders, her head nuzzled in his neck, and then there was a tug at your chest, unexplainable, but it still hurt. “This is Yunghee. You remember her, right?”

You nodded wordlessly before he carried on, feeling the strangest urge that you were shrinking, whatever that meant, as if you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Yunghee, this is my housemate Y/N,” he smiled down at her, and you suddenly felt a little bit sick when you saw them kiss. It was just a peck, but it lingered… It was enough, and you put it down to being a huge hater of PDA. It had to be it, right?

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted, forcing your voice out. Since when was he still seeing her? You hadn’t seen her since that morning all those weeks ago.

“Same, Yoongi’s told me so much about you,” she grinned, laughing a little condescendingly.  

You cleared your throat awkwardly, about to evacuate to your bedroom, not being able to take her literally just sat there on your sofa laughing at you when Yoongi spoke again.

“Actually, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something?”

You turned around, your eyebrow raised in false interest as he carried on. “I was thinking of throwing a party tomorrow night — that’ll be okay, right?”

You had every right to say no. What was he even playing at right now? But instead, you nodded, giving in. Whatever he was up to — whatever he wanted from you, whether it be a rise or something else, you wouldn’t give it to him.

“Sure, that sounds fine by me.”

“Great,” he grinned, before Yunghee squealed. “Maybe you could invite the guy you’re dating? I didn’t catch his name?”

“Taeyong,” you mumbled, feeling confused.

“What? Say it again, I didn’t hear you,” he smirked, and you took a deep breath, your annoyance growing, “Taeyong,” you repeated louder.

“Oh, okay… Maybe you can invite Taeyong?” He asked, his tone obnoxious.

“Sure thing,” you shrugged him off, worn out with whatever game he was playing right now, and you smiled weakly, not in the mood for his antics tonight, before carrying on your way into the hallway and to your bedroom.

“And Y/N, you still have those earplugs, right? You may need them tonight!” He called after you, and you shut your bedroom door, leaning up against it and sighing loudly.

He knew you still had those damn ear plugs, he’d held them in his hands yesterday when he been friendly, now he was back to being a Class A jerk and you frowned, trying to ignore the pang in your chest again and the heavy feeling in your stomach… What the hell had happened in under 24 hours?!

Surprisingly, the party did actually end up happening the next night, and even more surprisingly, you did actually invite Taeyong. It was an odd night, filled with many piercing and dare you say it, dirty looks from Yoongi. For someone who had organised this party he sure did look moody, and even though Yunghee was here too, he practically ignored her most of the night, standing in the kitchen with his drink. You weren’t shocked to see her storm out after a few hours, and you couldn’t help but feel evilly gleeful — that would teach him for doing whatever he had yesterday. Karma you liked to call it, and you wasted no time in inviting Taeyong to your bedroom. You’d leave it to Yoongi to ask the guests to leave and to tidy up the mess they’d made. You had other plans, ones that would make Yoongi wish he had a pair of ear plugs too, but tough luck — serves him right. However, to be honest you were still a little confused as to what was up with him anyway…

After that, two weeks past fairly quickly and it would only be another two until Yoongi was moving out. You were practically counting down the days now. He had turned into such an insufferable bastard you couldn’t wait to kick him out on his head. He has barely said two words to you since the night of the party, and you kicked yourself for ever thinking that maybe you could be friends — even after everything he had said the other day… and you too.

You had the day off work today, and you had spent it lounging on the sofa and watching television seeing as Yoongi was in work. You had planned on making yourself scarce before Yoongi got back, but luck wasn’t on your side as you heard him turn his key in the lock. Unable to run as fast as the flash back to your room, you watched him as he walked through the door, worry etched on his face, and for a moment you panicked for him. Had something happened at work? However, you told yourself you were being stupid. He didn’t deserve your sympathy, not after he had messed you about so much.

He saw you on the sofa as he began taking off his jacket and he sighed. Although, it wasn’t a noise of disgust, more like pity. “Hey, you’re here…” he greeted, placing his keys on the kitchen counter and kicking off his shoes. “Good… I, er, needed to tell you something…”

You wanted to say something back, maybe a grunt, that’s all he deserved, but the worry in his voice made you panic. Why was he looking at you like that and why did he sound like he was about to break some life altering news?

“Um… this may sound strange… but are you, um, still seeing Taeyong?” He asked awkwardly, leaning against the counter and not meeting your eyes.

“What?” You couldn’t help but get out, confused. Of course you were still seeing him, he must know that. When he didn’t answer, you nodded your head, sitting up straighter. “Yes, I am. Why?”

Yoongi sighed to himself although it resembled a groan more than anything, his hand running up and down his face as if he was building up the courage to say something. “I don’t know how to say this… and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to be the one to anyway… but seeing as I’m the one who saw it, it needs to come from me.” He began, sounding ominous, and you already felt the colour drain from your face as he lifted his head to look at you in visible discomfort. When you didn’t say anything, he carried on, his face wincing as he broke the news.

“Um, I saw him — on my lunch break… Y/N… he was with a girl, and well, it looked, not like friends…”

You sat there in silence, what he was telling you washing through your body until it didn’t make sense anymore. How could Taeyong be there with another girl? He was dating you. Yoongi was wrong. It wasn’t Taeyong he had seen.  

“You probably got the wrong person,” you shrugged off, shocking yourself with how chirpy your voice sounded, and Yoongi, who had been watching you carefully for a reaction, looked bewildered. “No! Honestly it was him. I know what he looks like.”

He was adamant, but you weren’t having any of it. He was wrong, you knew it. “Well, he was probably with a friend then.”

“Did you not listen to me?” He half-yelled in frustration. “I know what just friends look like, and that was not it. You don’t see me and you with our tongues down each other’s throats, do you?”

Stunned by his outburst, you took your time to think of a valid response, your brain not working properly as you stood up and pointed at him accusingly. “You’re lying.”

He opened his mouth, visibly in shock, before he was frowning, angry words falling from his mouth quickly, “You think I’m lying? Why would I even do that? Do you think I’m that fucking pathetic?”

You nodded, all sense of reason leaving you as you refused to believe him. “I don’t know, Yoongi, you tell me! You seem to like acting it.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” he argued. “I don’t want—

“Oh, pull the other one. Like hell do you care about me, Yoongi. We’re not friends,” you spat, standing your ground. “You’ve ignored me for the past two weeks and now you expect me to believe whatever you say. We’re not friends. Whatever you tell yourself at night to make yourself feel better, isn’t true — We don’t like each other and never will. So just leave me alone until you have to move, and then do me a favour—” you sneered, turning and walking towards the hallway. “—never speak to me again.”

You didn’t see Yoongi’s reaction to your words as you were already making your way to your room, but after a few seconds pause, he shouted back to you.

“Fine! Don’t believe me then. Just make sure to check his phone when you see him next —You’ll see I’m telling the truth!”

…and you did, only then it was too late to eat your words. You felt stupid and like the biggest bitch in the world. You didn’t know why, because deep down you knew Yoongi would be telling the truth. He had no reason to lie to you at all. Yes, he liked winding you up and teasing you, but he wouldn’t purposely want to hurt you. That’s what made it worse. You had acted like such a bitch when all he had been doing was trying to help.

Deep down you knew Taeyong had been cheating, and the curiosity had been eating you up ever since Yoongi had gotten home, so quickly you had text him to meet you, asking to hang out. He’d complied, meeting at some sort of restaurant, and when he had gone to the restroom you took his phone, quickly rifling through his messages until you found what you needed — BABY, written in capitals with a heart beside it. Yoongi was right, he had been cheating, with you it seemed, because it seemed like this mysterious baby was his girlfriend. He’d caught you and tried to explain, but you didn’t give him the chance to — you were mortified and fled home, afraid that Yoongi would be there to tell you I told you so.  

Luck wasn’t on your side tonight again, and as you flew through the door you ran straight into Yoongi. He let out a huff as you bumped into him, and steadied your shoulders, looking at you concerned.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked quietly.

“Nothing,” you whispered, adverting eye contact as you tried to push past him, wanting to hide in the confines of your own room.

“Nothing? You’re crying! What the hell happened?!”

You were crying? How come you hadn’t noticed, and on instinct you brought your hand up to your cheeks, feeling the dampness, and you wiped quickly. How stupid were you? You sniffed loudly, feeling humiliated. “You were right, Yoongi.” You said, your voice emotionless, as you looked up at him finally. “Taeyong has a girlfriend already.”

There was silence then, as Yoongi took in your words, his eyes dark as they darted back and forth. “Aren’t you going to tell me, I told you so?” You asked, and you watched him frown, looking at you as if you were stupid. “Why would I say that?”

“Because I outright said you were lying.” You replied, brows furrowed. You had been so sure he would take this time to gloat and to bask in your sadness, but instead his eyes softened, although his expression was stern, his mouth forming a thin line.

“I would never do that, Y/N. I don’t blame you, I would think the same by the way I’ve been acting…”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that but before you could open your mouth, he had his arm around your shoulders, comforting you and moving you to the sofa. Your eyes fell to the floor as you heard him place something down and you opened your mouth in a silent gasp. It was a bag filled with some of his things, you guessed.

“You’re moving out already?” You got out, “because of me…”

“No,” he chuckled softly. “Not because of you, and to be honest, all of my stuff is still here. I just thought maybe you’d want me to leave you alone… I was just gonna take some clothes and go to Hoseok’s…”

You opened your mouth to protest, the thought of Yoongi leaving suffocating you, and you couldn’t explain the panic that filled you at the thought, but he hushed you, “It’s okay, I won’t go now — unless you want me too?” He added as an afterthought.

“No, no,” you rushed and he chuckled again, smiling softly. “Okay then, good,” he nodded. “Now, let’s just sit on the sofa. We can talk if you want, or not… I know you really liked the guy…”

You frowned as you let Yoongi sit you down, taking a seat next you as he waited for you to reply. Did you really like Taeyong? Of course he was incredibly handsome and funny and you two had gotten along really well, even though the big jerk had been hiding a secret girlfriend, but in regards to feelings? It was difficult to explain. You had been happy dating him, but when it came to a relationship you didn’t really want that. Not with him anyway. Maybe there was some people in life that were meant to be fleeting… Taeyong being one of them. The real reason you were crying and so upset, wasn’t because you liked him so much, it was because it had hurt you so much. Every guy, no matter how much or how little you liked them, always hurt you in the end. You were cursed.

“I didn’t really like him that much,” you said after a few minutes, your voice sounding weird as it filled the room, and he looked at you slightly shocked, his eyes questioning you. “I wasn’t crying because I was in love with him or anything — I was crying because it’s a shitty situation,” you carried on, laughing bitterly at your own misfortune. “Every guy — Every guy I have ever been involved with has messed me around one way or another. No matter what they meant to me.”

“That’s not true, Y/N,” he comforted you, placing his hand on your knee, his head to one side as he watched you, and you silently admired the way his fringe flopped over his face, covering one eye. He really was beautiful, and it hurt a little. Hurt more than Taeyong’s betrayal anyway.

“It is, Yoongi,” you smiled sorely. “Come on! You’ve known me for two years. Remember that time I got stood up and I waited two hours for the guy to arrive and he never even did in the end.”

He looked blank for a second but you carried on, “Of course you do, you laughed about it solid for a whole day when you found out…” He looked up at our then, surprised and he began to apologise, “I’m sorry, I had had no clue you were so upset about it — I-I don’t even remember it that well…”

You scoffed, suddenly annoyed. What give him the right to be sweet to you right now? After all he had done to tease you over the years. “You’ve done it plenty—” you murmured, “—in fact, you did it the first time I met you.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion again and you inwardly sighed. He didn’t remember, again? Did you have such little significance to him? Again, you couldn’t explain how much that hurt more than what Taeyong had just done to you.

“You said you understood why my ex broke up with me… I heard you that night, you said some horrible things — I didn’t forget them.”

You felt his hand leave your knee as the realisation of your words hit him, and he was silent for a moment. “Damn, Y/N. You shouldn’t take what a miserable, twisted dick like me has to say, to heart. I’m bitter… so very bitter… and well…”

He trailed off and you cut in, “Maybe I care what you think. Has that ever crossed your mind?” What did he even have to be bitter about anyway? Why was he so miserable? It didn’t make sense.

He raised his eyebrows, visibly thinking as he bit down on his bottom lip. “So I hurt you, right?” and you nodded slowly, feeling awkward that you had finally confessed to it. However, you felt a pang of surprise when he began to laugh, albeit slightly acidic. “You do realise the only reason I was a dick that night was because I thought I stood a chance with you?” You looked at him in surprise. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I’m that pathetic. Gian told me she has a friend who was upset after a break up… that she might need cheering up.” He explained and you stayed silent, waiting for more. “That friend just so happened to be the girl I’d seem leaving the library a couple of weeks prior, and also someone I think I began crushing on…” He trailed off, his voice low with embarrassment, but he looked you right in the eye anyway. He wanted you to understand, and you did.

“Oh god — and I was a bitch to you that night, and that’s why you said those things…?” You spoke for him, understanding the situation perfectly, feeling oddly amused.

“And all the other times after that, too,” he smirked, finding the situation just as funny. “I mean, I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have said those things back then.  I was being a jerk — I should have realised that you were still upset and that you weren’t ready for anything straight away… but I guess my ego took a bashing and I couldn’t handle it,” he admitted, his voice filled with relief. His confession finally freeing him.

You giggled after it all sunk in, “So, really… we were both jerks to each other for no reason at all these last two years?” You asked slowly, a smile tugging on your lips when you caught Yoongi’s eyes as he nodded, looking bemused. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “Our whole acquaintanceship has been one big fat lie — a misunderstanding, some would say…” and you both giggled at his joke, the reality of the situation hitting you, playing havoc with your emotions, that — and all that had happened tonight.

“Let me do something for you. Let me make it up to you,” he spoke quickly, after the laughter had settled down, and you looked up at him, interested. “Let me take you out, I don’t know, dinner? Cinema?” He asked and you don’t know why, but you agreed.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you wanted to make new memories with Yoongi now; real ones, not false ones…

“Really?” He asked, shocked at your answer and your heart flipped as he grinned at you wildly. “I’ll let you decide where to go.”

“Um, ok, the cinema? I haven’t been there in while, but then again… dinner sounds nice —ahh, I don’t know, I —

“How about dinner, then the cinema?” He proposed, leaning forward and placing his hand on your knee again, and you nodded, grinning at him. Now that was offer you couldn’t refuse. The night had been shitty, but now it seemed like everything was finally looking up. Maybe once Gian returned home, she’d have the shock of her life… You and Yoongi, best buds for life.

Only, the next day you woke up with doubts. On one hand you were relieved to finally have a clean slate with Yoongi, but the more you thought about it, the more anxious you became.  If Yoongi admitted to liking you back then, did that mean he still liked you now? Had he liked you this whole time or had your attitude made him realise that he didn’t? Did he just feel sorry for you because you were lied to by Taeyong? He felt sorry for you, because no man wanted you? Was tonight going to be a date? The questions clouded your brain, and you were as confused as ever.

Maybe this was all a big mistake. Maybe you and Yoongi were destined to be acquaintances. What if you found out you really did have nothing in common and that you truly did hate each other? Why the hell were you so bothered anyway? You felt like tearing your hair out, and the only thing you could think of was cancelling on him. He would understand, you could say you weren’t feeling up to it, or that you were working late… Yeah — that would be good… You had to work on. That way you could build the courage up to actually talk to him some more, and find out what the hell was going on, because really, right now, you had no clue.

It was half eight when you got back and after texting Yoongi to say you were working late and would have to take a rain check, you went over your friend’s house, too chicken to look at your cell and see his reply. Lying was not a good look for you, and by the time you arrived home, you were feeling sick with guilt.

You greeted him quietly as he was in the kitchen and kicked off your shoes, trying to make a dash for your room, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Have fun in work?” He asked, his voice hard and you watched as he rounded the corner of the counter, watching you intently.  

“Yup,” you answered quickly, “just the usual…”

“Don’t you check your phone? Or is it off?” His voice was steady, but it was laced with something and you frowned pulling your cell out of your pocket. It had been on silent all this time, and you quickly pulled up your texts, the colour draining from your face as you read, all of them from Yoongi.

[4:30pm] No problem [4:35pm] maybe I’ll stop by and keep you company for a bit? You must have a break soon? [5:25pm] Ok, no need to reply, I’m already here [5:25pm] sorry, I couldn’t help myself. See you soon x [5:30pm] Where are you? [5:30pm] They said you went home at 5?????

You quickly pushed your phone back in your pocket, feeling incredibly awkward and horrendous. “I’m sorry Yoongi. I can explain, honest —

“You could have just said no, you know,” he interrupted. “If you didn’t want to go on a date with me, you didn’t have to lie.”

Your jaw dropped. A date? So it was one… You fumbled over your words as you tried to explain. “No, I did honest, I just —I just needed some time to —

“Save it!” He snapped, already walking out the kitchen “I don’t want to hear it. You do realise that I was gonna surprise you when you got home from work,” and you followed his eyes to the kitchen counter, not noticing all the snacks he’d bought when you first came in, and you looked back at him, even more guilt washing through you.

“I thought if you couldn’t make it to the cinema, we could watch a film here. How stupid was I?!” He exploded, before storming off to his room.

You stood there in shock at his outburst. He’d never shouted like that before. It made you feel weird, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like any of it. Everything you had been ignoring these past few weeks suddenly bubbled to the surface, and then, everything made sense.

As well as you, everything made sense with him too. He thought he’d confessed last night, but you hadn’t got it, too engrossed in your own problems, not seeing the bigger picture — even when he had invited you out, and stupidly you had rejected him, in the worst way possible — lied to him and made him look stupid; made him feel unwanted…

You moved, and before you knew it, you were outside his room, tapping lightly on the door and when he didn’t answer you let yourself in slowly. He was stood up, facing his wall where his bed lay, his shoulders hunched.

“Yoongi,” you spoke softly, and when he didn’t reply you carried on, walking closer to him, your hand reaching out to touch his back. He flinched, but didn’t pull away, and you tried again. “Yoongi, you said it was a date…”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Don’t have to rub it in how stupid I was.”

There was silence for a few seconds as you tried to think of what to say. Were you really going to do this?

“I-I want it to be a date…”

“Wha—?” He asked, not being able to hide his surprise as he turned around to face you.  

“Do you want to know why I cancelled on you? It’s because I was scared… I still am,” you admitted.

“I don’t understand,” he said finally, looking up at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“It means that I like you, Yoongi,” you answered clearly. “I haven’t always liked you…for obvious reasons,” you paused to smile, “but since spending all this time with you, seeing you every day, speaking with you like we’re friends… Honestly, the idea of you leaving and not being around all the time, it hurts my heart. Last night when I saw your bag and I thought you were leaving… I-I was sad.”

Yoongi went to interrupt you but you held up a finger, signalling to him you weren’t finished, you needed to get this out. “When I see you, when I hang out with you, I don’t know… it makes me happy, even if we’re bickering all the time… I think — no, I hope you like me too… otherwise you’re gonna rib me so had after this.”

Yoongi sighed in relief at your words, looking at his feet as he began to reply, before looking at you defiantly. “Y/N, I’ve liked you ever since I first saw you and then I blew my chance. You just didn’t notice me, you never notice me… That’s why I turned into such a bitter bastard. I had to see you with all these guys, ones who didn’t treat you right — used you, cheated on you. All the while knowing that I could treat you better than they ever could… but you didn’t want me…”

He trailed off, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “but you noticed me now, even though I probably don’t deserve it. I’ve been such a jerk to you since I found out you were dating Taeyong. No wonder you didn’t believe me when I told you about him yesterday.” He sighed, and you brushed him off. “It’s okay, that doesn’t mean anything. All that matters is now, and I don’t know… I can’t explain it… the way you make me feel…” you chuckled.

“And you think I can?” He laughed along. “Honestly, you turn me into a dithering idiot. There’s so many times when I wanted to confess to you, but I chickened out.”

“Weellll,” you began slowly, your tongue darted out and grazing your teeth, and he looked down at it, mesmerised a little. “Maybe you should show me with actions…” and as you smirked, he closed the space between you, as if he’d been waiting for your permission, his hands wrapping around your waist as his lips found yours.

His lips felt odd against yours, foreign, but good-odd, and you shut your eyes, falling into the kiss as he deepened it, your arms wrapping around his neck as his slid up your back and to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pecked once, twice, a third time before pulling back a little.

“This is really happening?” He asked out loud and you nodded, giggling as rubbed your nose with his. “I’m so sorry I was a jerk to you all this time,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “I forgive you, only because I was such a jerk too.”

He chuckled along with you, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and nose as he went, and your heart hammered in your chest. He was so close, and he was all yours. “Let’s just forget about that now, concentrate on other things,” you said, pulling his hands from your face and gripping them in yours, entwining your fingers together. “I like you, and you like me.”

He watched your fingers link together before he broke out into a grin, agreeing with your words. “So so much,” and before you knew it, he was on you again, his lips pressing harder against yours now as his tongue darted out, parting your mouth instantly, eager to taste him.

The kiss turned feverish as hums began to leave you both, making up for lost time as one of his palms found the small of your back, twisting your body around until you felt the back of your knees hit his bed, and he slowly pushed you down into laying position, his body crawling over yours as he continued to kiss you passionately, his hands now running down your sides gently, as if you were made of china.

“Is this too much?” He questioned, his mouth sliding down your neck, sounding breathless as he trailed wet open mouthed kisses down your throat and to your collarbone. “I sort of wanted to take you out on a date before we took it this far.”

He pulled away to look at you, his tone sincere, but his eyes laced with lust, and a bolt of electricity flowed through you, simmering in your stomach as the realisation washed over you. You wanted to have sex with him. You wanted to kiss him, and touch him, and feel him — everywhere, and you never wanted to let go. The urge was breath-taking and you reached for his neck, pulling him down to kiss him again, letting your actions speak for you, moaning into his mouth, which he swallowed with his tongue.

His mouth trailed down your chin, finding your throat again, as you uttered out the words that he’d been dying to hear, “I want you,” and he nipped at your clavicle, a low moan rumbling from his chest as his hands wasted no time in clumsily undoing your blouse buttons, his mouth finding yours again as your tongues lapped at each other, dancing around, hot and wet; hungry for each other.  

The strange thing was, you thought, as he pulled opened your blouse, exposing the swell of your breasts in your bra, was that none of this felt weird to you. In fact, for the first time in a long while, sexual relations felt natural too you. It felt right — like you’d been doing this for as long as you had known each other.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured in awe, his hands hovering over you as if he was too afraid to touch you.

You grew impatient and sat up on your elbows, tugging at the t-shirt he was wearing, wanting him to take it off too. He complied and your hands reached out, finally getting to touch his skin that you had seen him parade around the apartment so often.

“Ah,” his voice broke, “your hands are cold!”

He grabbed a hold of your hands as he pushed you back, holding them to your sides as you giggled. That must have been the push he needed because suddenly, he was on you; touching your abdomen and running his fingers up your ribcage delicately. You quickly pulled yourself out of your blouse and Yoongi’s hands shot to your jeans, pulling the zipper down and tugging at the waistband, desperate to get you undressed. You lifted up your hips and he shimmied them down as you kicked them off the edge of his bed. You then watched as he unzipped his own, discarding them too. He was back on you then, hovering over you, mesmerised by your body and you smiled coyly up him.

“Is this a dream?” He asked out loud, “I feel like it is, I’ve wanted this for so long…”

“It isn’t a dream,” you whispered. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Now, touch me more,” you whined, keening as you jutted your body up to him, feeling needy for his touch on you.

His hands shot to your breasts and you felt him tug them out of your bra, exposing your nipples to the cool air, as his mouth enclosed around one suddenly and you moaned out in surprise, Feeling his hot tongue swirl around and form goosebumps on your skin. A groan fell from him and his hand came around the back of you to undo your bra, leaving you fully bare now. One of his hands began needing your other breast roughly, as if he couldn’t believe you were really under him and he could touch whatever he wanted, as he sucked harder on your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you arched your back as you whined, the pleasure flowing through your body, and you felt a pulsing between your legs, shifting uncomfortably because you wanted more. You wanted it all.

After a few moments his mouth came back to meet yours, his tongue not holding back as it explored your mouth, greedy moans and hums leaving him as moved with haste, as if he wanted to do everything at once, before he pulled back, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. You felt a flash of excitement run through you when his hands slid down your legs, cupping your ass cheeks as he went, spreading your legs so he could fit in between them before he veered back on his heels, his mouth attaching itself to one of your calves and working his way to the underside of your thighs. You squealed as his kisses fluttered over your flesh, feeling each kiss and touch everywhere, a painful ticklish pleasure that had you squirming.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “When I saw you changing in the bathroom, I thought I was going to die right there and then… I don’t care if that sounds creepy,” and you giggled at confession, remembering back. “To kiss you,” he let out, his lips moving to your other calf, “to hold you,” he continued, his mouth travelling up the underside of your leg, his grip on you turning to a caress as one hand reached for your ass again, causing you to shut your eyes and sigh in pleasure. “To touch you,” he concluded, his mouth now dangerously close to your core as he finally made his way up to your bikini line, and you shivered, opening your eyes to find him playing with the top of your underwear, tugging them down as he went, meeting your gaze, his eyes blown out with lust between your legs, and when he flicked them off he let out a groan, taking in your wet heat as his eyes fluttered closed, slowly adjusting to reality. After all the waiting and dreaming, it was finally coming true — it was finally happening.

“Fuck,” he let out. “Can I taste you?” His voice was an octave lower as he opened his eyes again, head close to your mound as he swallowed loudly, practically salivating.

You bit your lip lightly, nodding as you looked back at him with lidded eyes, your own arousal growing as you watched him descend a little, eyes watching everything as he placed one kiss above your clit — a small, sweet kiss before his tongue came out, curling around it, swirling around as if he was kissing your mouth. You had never felt this amount of pleasure before; you felt alive, your veins flooding with a substance that made it feel like you were floating, and you sighed out loud — Yoongi, making him growl into you, the vibrations rolling through your body, making you arch your back into him, as he grabbed your thighs and spread your legs wider.

That’s when he began sucking against your clit, pulling back before blowing softly, the cold air making you squirm and hold your breath as you craned your neck to watch him as he repeated the action. He chuckled at your reaction before pouncing back on your, applying more pressure as he took pleasure in knowing you were watching him intently, moans falling from under your breath as your fingers dug into the tops of your own thighs.

His tongue left your sweet spot and swiped down your folds, dipping into your hole, and you moaned louder this time, loving the feeling of finally being filled somehow, and you moved your hands to tug on his locks as he dipped in and out, flinging your head back as you felt your orgasm approach, his thumb now leaving light circles on your clit, adding to the pleasure.

Only your release never happened because you felt emptiness as he moved back, sensing you were close by the way you were squeezing against his tongue, cold air hitting your centre and you looked down, whining in annoyance as he smirked at you. It was made worse by the fact that you saw yourself on his chin, your juices shining, his lips kiss bitten and parted open.

“Yoongi,” you pouted, pushing you head back into the pillow, even in sex he liked to tease. Your clit was throbbing, and not in the ‘good after orgasm’ kind of way; it was in the ‘I need attention now’ way and you instinctively shut your legs as he sat up, rubbing them together to gain some kind of friction.

He chuckled at your reaction, apologising, “I’m very sorry, babe, but I want— no, I need you to come with me. I need to feel you… fuck.” He trailed off, cursing as he palmed himself over his underwear, watching you spread your legs again at his words, the babe still ringing in your ears.

“Get naked then. Come here — have sex with me,” you whispered, watching him groan at the way you made what you wanted clear, the throbbing in your clit now turning to anticipation and you followed his eyes to your now dripping core, there was no doubt about it, and he took a shaky breath, his hand rubbing his dick one last time before he pulled at the waistband of his boxers, his dick springing free and bouncing, rock solid, the head angry and red, weeping with arousal already.

The thought of him entering you and filling you up sent tingles up your spine and you tugged him down quickly, your lips meeting his again, only this time it was your turned to explore his mouth with your tongue, as you turned manic, wanting to feel and touch every inch of him, your hand coming down to run your fingers down his length as you thrust your hips up, the head of his dick brushing against you, making you both gasp out, and you did it again, jerking your hand quickly so that he brushed against your soaking slit, teasing him repeatedly until he was panting, his palms holding himself up beside your head as he looked down and watched you.

“Y/N,” he said, letting out a strangled cry, “I’ll get a condom…”

You nodded quickly, letting go of him as he leaned over your body, opening his bedside drawer and pulling out a foil wrapper, and you watched as he knelt in between your legs, his hands fumbling as he tried to open it and then place it on, jerking his hand slowly over himself to make sure it was secure. He quickly scurried lower towards you, flattening his legs as he practically laid over you, and with a grin from you, he wasted no time in pushing slowly and steadily inside of you, holding his breath until he was all of the way inside, gritting his teeth to stop him from making a noise, and you hissed in pleasure feeling him fully inside of you, the stretch painfully pleasurable, your vagina hugging him tight to you, contracting a couple of times, causing him to huff out as he gripped his nails into the pillow, as he held himself up.

“You feel so much better than I imagined,” he breathed, beginning to thrust into you slowly, now that he was used to you. “Don’t be surprised if I bust a nut in like two minutes.”

His joke made you laugh, the sound breathless as he pushed in harder this time, picking up the pace when he felt you widen your legs, and it wasn’t long before you were moaning, wrapping your legs around his waist and linking your feet, wanting to feel his now sweaty skin on top of yours, your head falling further into the pillow as he thrust in and out quickly.

You needed to feel every inch of him so you jutted your hips forward, meeting him with just as much power, feeling him slip in further and he gasped out, grunting loudly until he was moaning, falling out of you fully, only to push back in and he watched you circle your hips around him, making him hit spots he wasn’t sure he knew existed. You hadn’t heard him be this loud before, all the times he’d brought a girl back, but now he seemed like he was officially losing it, letting you slip and slid against him as he watched you in awe, his dick slick with your juices that made wet noises fill the room.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “you’re gonna make me cum.”

Suddenly, he was kissing you sloppily, his movements picking up once again as he chased his high and one of his hands moved to come between you, his thumb finding your clit again, rubbing furiously as he tried his best to make you come as well. If you were being honest, it wasn’t going to take much. Your senses were heightened, every touch and kiss, and thrust of his dick felt new and foreign to you, and you moaned into him as he joined you, encouraged by the way you were enjoying it.

“Cum for me,” he whispered quickly, “I want to feel you squeeze around my dick — please.”

He sounded so desperate and needy, his thrusts turning as sloppy as his kisses as he gritted his teeth, trying to hold on until you met your end too, and that was all you needed; the heat flying from your core and through your body, every nerve ending tingling as your orgasm over took you, your muscles clenching around him, squeezing him as you moaned loudly, your hips stilling as your body tensed, your hands clamped around his arms as you tried to anchor yourself to him, and then like magic, he was coming too, a croaky whine leaving him as he pulled away from your mouth and flung his head back, his hips moving on their own as he snapped furiously into you, releasing into the condom; all the pent up frustration he’d been feeling for two years finally coming to an end.

He didn’t pull out straight away, you both wanting to bask in the moment for as long as possible, letting your post-orgasm bliss ebb away slowly, your body still entwined around his, your skin now clammy and his fringe damp from his exertion, your chests heaving with the adrenaline, and after a few minutes of kissing each other and sharing coy smiles, he pulled out, rolling over onto his back and pulling off the soiled condom, shoving it back into the packet on his side table.

His hands run across your legs once he turned to face you, caressing every inch of your skin sweetly, before he wrapped his arm around your hip, turning you so that he was spooning you tightly.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, his breath hot against your ear. “Really, wow,” he repeated, a breathless laugh leaving him and you joined in, feeling high from this euphoric state.

“Really, Gian is gonna freak when she gets home,” you said eventually, giggling as you imagined her face.

“Nah, she probably knows I’ve been harbouring the biggest crush on you forever,” he shrugged, watching as you turned to face him, cradling you in his arms in the process. “Honestly, I think everyone and their mother knew except you.”

You raised an eyebrow, joy filling you as he talked about his crush, but you wondered if it was true. Did Gian really know — did everyone know? Seriously, all your friends were going to have a heart attack once they found out, and as if he read your mind, he snickered, “Everyone is going to think I’m such a God now — I managed to melt the ice queen’s heart. It’s a miracle!” He rejoiced dramatically and you giggled again, reaching up to peck at his lips.

“They’re gonna have to get used to that from now on,’ he smiled as you pulled away, “because let me tell you — I won’t be able to control myself around you whatsoever…”

His smile turned to a smirk as his hands wondered, cupping your ass as he pressed you close to him, reaching for your mouth again, his tongue peeking through his parted lips as he teased you.

“Trust me, I have two years to make up for,” and you gulped as he kissed you hard, your heart pounding against his chest, that matched his.

[p-artsypants]

320 State Street- (8) July 16, 2016

A03 | FF.Net

Previous

—

The drinking song in the last chapter is a slightly re-written translation of ‘Fela Igjen’, by Alexander Rybak. I don’t know why I forgot to put that in the author’s notes on the last chapter…(maybe because I wrote the chapter at 2am in the middle of a party…)

—

“So this lady comes up to the counter and starts putting her stuff up. It was like, spray paint and caulk and sandpaper…stuff like that.” Astrid sat at a table in Hiccup’s basement. Heather, Fishlegs, and Eret listened and waited for Hiccup. “I was halfway through typing in her items when I noticed the guy before me had left his coffee on the counter.”

“People are lazy.” Fishleg’s shrugged.

“Ah, but that’s not worst part! The woman saw where I was looking, reached over, grabbed the coffee and finished it off.”

“She didn’t!” Heather objected.

“I swear to god, she did!”

“That’s the nastiest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Alright guys,” Hiccup stated, coming into the room. He balanced a laptop in one hand and had a broad selection of snacks in the other. “My mom has two hours free and she’s going to join us.”

“Join us? But she’s in…” Astrid sentence got cut short as Hiccup placed the laptop on the table.

Valka Haddock, a beautiful and wise mother showed on the screen. She smiled. “So you’re Astrid? Hiccup’s told me a lot about you!”

Said boy in reply blushed. “Soooo does everyone have their character sheets?”

Everyone nodded, except Astrid.

Fishlegs organized his notes then held a blank sheet of paper out to Astrid. “So, since you’ve never played before, you’ll need to make your character.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want to be? Human? Elf? Gnome?” Hiccup looked pointedly at Heather.

“Well…what do we have?”

Hiccup spoke in a deep Scottish voice, one which Astrid recognized as the voice he used to imitate his dad. “I am Sho’gath the mighty, son of Ogro’Sherk, and wielder of axes.” Then he used his regular voice. “I’m a true neutral Orc.”

“Okay, what does ‘true neutral’ mean?”

“It’s an alignment. Lawful Good all the way down to Chaotic Evil. It just determines what kind of decisions you’re going to make. Are you always going to do the right thing and follow the rules, or are you going to mess everything up?”

“Oh, I get it.” She nodded.

“I’m a beautiful elven ranger. And I’m Neutral good.” Eret explained, holding up a scribble of a blonde woman.

Valka spoke from the computer, “I’m Magro Thiadim, a gentle giant.”

“I’m a dashing rogue named Cazriel, and I have an monkey companion named Steve the Well Trained.” Fishlegs frowned right after, "but since I'm leading the campaign, you won't get to see me in action."

Then Heather finished, “I’m a 200 year old mage that looks like a 15 year old boy, and I’m mute, illiterate, and eat rocks.”

“You must be fun to play with.” Astrid laughed.

“She’s not.” Everyone else responded.

“Well, now I have a lot of options. Can I be anything?”

“Basically.”

“I want to be an Angel.”

Fishlegs and Hiccup looked at each other, seemingly having a unspoken conversation. “Well, you could…but it’s really hard to play as one.” Fishlegs finally admitted. “Might I suggest a paladin?”

“Depends, what’s a paladin?”  

“Do you know anything about Dungeons and Dragons?!” He asked snippily.

She replied, just as snippily. “I know only nerds play it.”

“Guess you’re a nerd now,” Hiccup shrugged.  

“You’re damn straight.”

“Darn. Darn straight.” He corrected.

“Okay, well a Paladin is a holy knight. They get a animal to mount that they share an empathic link with. But they can only be Lawful Good. So they always have to do the right thing.”

Astrid shrugged. “Doesn’t sound too far from real life. I’ll do it.” Then she snapped her fingers. “My mount can be a giant bird! It’ll grasp onto my shoulders and carry me.”

“What kind of bird?” Asked Hiccup. “Are you just going to make it Stormfly?”

“No, I can be a little creative.” She laughed. “I’ll make it a potoo.”

The table went quiet. “What’s a potoo?”

She pulled out her phone and went to Google. “It’s this bird that’s really derpy, it looks like a living muppet.”

She found a picture and held it up. Sure enough, the bird did look like a living muppet. It had big yellow eyes that bugged out on either sides of it’s head.

“That’s terrifying.” Hiccup cringed.

“His name is Gary.”

“Your character?”

“No, my bird.” She stated it like it was obvious. “I still have to think of a name for my character.”

“Well,” Fishlegs began, looking at his notes. “How about Hiccup helps her set up her character while I set the scene.”

“Okay.”

He cleared his throat and spoke to the rest of the group. “You arrive at the Western dock of the town of Kolasiet. One ship leaves every third morning and returns every third night. To the South, there is a huge hill. In front of you, there are houses, a tavern, a trader who does business inside the tavern, a blacksmith, a church, a jail, and an elder who acts as a healer and a seer.

“To the North, there is an ornate, beautiful manor on the hill. It’s large and spectacular, but not as grand as the castle.

“To the East, there is a large castle up on the mountain. It is covered with ivy and there are lights in the windows. The castle is in ill repair, but looks habited. There’s a huge rose maze around the outside and heavy iron gates at the base of the hill.”

“Good start.” Eret commented. “I’ll go into town.”

Valka and Heather followed.

“People you talk to are pretty down trodden and poor, tell you to go to the Tavern.”

“To the Tavern then!”

“Okay,” announced Astrid. “I have my character. Now how do I play the game?”

Fishlegs groaned.

Hiccup explained, “it’s a roleplaying game. The DM, Fishlegs, will tell the story and you move your character within the story to finish it.”

“Okay…” she followed so far.

“As an example,” Fishlegs stated, “say you’re in the woods and there are trees all around you, except for a cave. Where do you want to go?”

“Well, to the cave. Seeing as it’s basically the only place to go.”

“Alright, inside the cave is a pile of bones.”

“Lovely.”

“On top of the bones, theres a dead carcass of a mystical being called a beholder. You see something sparkling in it’s eye.”

“I want to look at the sparkling thing.”

Fishlegs smiled. “You have found beauty in the eye of the beholder.”

Astrid scrunched up her nose. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m leaving.”

“No! Wait! Don’t leave! It was a joke!!!” He begged.

—

The group had entered the tavern, where they met up with a paladin with a bird mount. Everyone else in the tavern was just as sad and pathetic as the people outside. Maybe even more so, since they were drunk of their asses. Only the trader, Joe, was in a cheerful mood. No doubt hopeful that he’d get some actual business. Joe admitted that he’d been in the town three days, and couldn’t wait to get out. Whatever was effecting these people was very serious and if the group of rag-tag fighter’s knew better, they’d leave soon too. They bought several drinks and items and talked to the bartender. A goat looking man with a mustache down hanging down to his nipples.

—

“Gobber?”

“Gobber.”

—

“Several months ago, we were prosperous. The castle was inhabited by a beautiful and kind fairy. She had magnificence gossamer wings and hair that shone in the sun like gold. Daily, she’d come into our town and grace us with her humble presence. She was also very wealthy, more wealthy then even the mayor, but she was generous and gave gold to whoever needed it, but always with the warning, ‘do not take what is not given to you’. But then…one day, the sky turned gray and all the gold that was given to us from the fairy, turned to coal. Great for heating our homes, mind you, but we were left nearly desolate. The mayor spread what wealth he could, but he was also depleted of his riches.  An unknown disease spread over the people and took lives. Where once riches flowed, now only sadness like a sprinkler of agony. I’m sure if our gold was restored to us, there would be a handsome reward to those responsible.”

At the word ‘reward’ the group prepared to do what it took to restore the town to it’s glory.

And so the group explored the town, talking to various people, including the mayor, elder, healer, and some guards.

Finally, they snuck up to the castle gate.

Two gargoyles sat on the top of the gate, watching them as they approached.

“Halt! Who goes there?” One asked.

The massive orc, with the same amount to tact as brains, spoke, “I am Sho’gath the Mighty and you will let me in this gate!”

“We do not let outsiders in, you do not have the key.”

—

Astrid snarled. “Well, then what are we supposed to do? Everyone we talked to made it seem like the Castle was the place to go!” She crossed her arms. “This game is dumb.”

Hiccup chuckled. “It’s supposed to be a challenge. Or else we’d finish it in an hour.”

Astrid checked the time on her phone. An hour and a half had passed, and they were no where near done. “How long is it supposed to take?”

“Two to three weeks, depending.” Fishlegs shrugged.

“You do realize I have a life and a job, right?”

“Relax”, charmed Heather. “We play three to four hours at a time.”

Astrid rubbed her temples. “I’ve played monopoly games shorter than this.”

—

A Paladin, Orc, Mage, Giant, and an Elf sneak into a jail.

Sounds like a joke right?

The guards proved to be a challenge, but the Orc did most of the work. Each one of the prisoners were interviewed, some being more impactful then the rest. The gentle giant, Magro Thiadim, was fiercely disturbed by what a shady man had to say to him. And so he left the town, and wandered onto the beach.

—

It was then that the game reached it’s second hour, and Valka had to leave.

The rest of the team had no plans for the rest of the day. Astrid was now invested.

—

The last prisoner they interviewed was a young woman. She had black hair, yellow eyes and a sickly complexion.  She explained that she was once the fairy in the castle, but she was ambushed one day and her wings were ripped off. Now the castle belonged to the evil that stole her wings and if the town was to go back to normal, they had to get her wings back.

The fairy gave the group a vile of her blood as the key to get in the gate.

—

“Okay, before we storm the castle, does anyone need to take a break?”

“Yes!”

Hiccup stood, picking up his glass. “Can I get anyone something to drink?”

“I’m going to need a hard drink to get through the rest of this.” Laughed Eret.

“Me too!” Joined Heather.

Astrid stood as well, “I’ll come with you Hiccup. I’m getting a leg cramp.”

The rest of the group started chatting about some TV show Astrid hadn’t had the time to see yet as she followed him upstairs.

“So…you like this kind of stuff?”

“What?”

“The…lord of the rings, fantasy stuff.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I really really like dragons though.”

“Dragons, huh?”

“Yeah, if I could. I’d have a pet dragon. I’d have twenty.”

She laughed. “You couldn’t live here in a wooden house then.”

He chuckled along with her. “No, I guess I couldn’t.”

“But an Orc though? I would never have expected Sho’gath to be your character.”

Hiccup snorted. “He’s a joke character, don’t read too far into it. I made myself true neutral so I could do whatever I wanted. We’re fighting an army of zombies to save an orphanage? If there’s a reward involved, I’ll do it. But if there’s a bank next door, you better believe I’m robbing it.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Exactly. I’d never do that in real life, it’s just fun to pretend.”

Toothless lazily basked in the sun on his back. Stormfly burrowed into his tummy fur. The duo walked past and gave their respected pets pats and scratches, then headed to the kitchen.

“Are you having a fun time?”

“Hm?”

“You seemed kind of annoyed when we started…if you aren’t having fun then—“

She slammed her hand down on the table. “I’m having a great time!”

He jumped.

“Look, it wasn’t really my cup of tea at first, but I’m really enjoying myself now. Honestly.” She made her way over to the fridge and pulled out two beers. “But to be frank…look, I don’t want to dump my burdens on you…”

He leaned against the counter. “I’m always happy to be an ear for you. You…don’t have it easy. I can’t imagine being on my own without the help of at least one parent. And taking care of one, no less.”

“I’ve gotten used to it.” She smirked. “Anyway…I don’t have a lot of friends. I didn’t really keep in contact with the ones from High School and I didn’t make a lot of friends at Yale…So, I really appreciate you inviting me to these things. It’s nice to kick back with friends, you know?”

“Actually,” he smiled. “Fishlegs was the one who extended the invitation to you. He thought you might like the story he was planning.”

“Huh. Well, that son of a gun.”

“But, you’re always welcome to come over, whenever you want. I like you, Astrid.”

“I like you too, Hiccup.”

—

After a maze of living shrubs filled with man eating flowers and sentient statues, the orc, paladin, elf, and mage finally arrived at the castle door. With the fairy’s blood, the door opened to them easily.

Though evil lurked in the walls, the group spread out and searched the castle. Some found weapons, others, spells. But the paladin was the one who found the first journal entry.

“I arrived in the town of Kolasiet. It’s quiet, but teeming with life and untapped wealth. Everything seems so bountiful, great food, happy people. It’s almost amazing that there are not more people here. I ventured up to the castle, where lush Roses grew around the entrance. Though, as I approached them, the roses came to life and barred my entry. I sat on the bridge and waited for someone to come by, and sure enough, a beautiful fairy with red, silken wings fluttered toward me. I had never seen a fairy before, but she was awfully nice. She has invited me to stay in the castle with her, seeing my interest in the architecture. I believe I will enjoy my stay.”

—

“So, who wrote the journal?”

“That’s part of the puzzle!” Explained Fishlegs. “You have to figure out who wrote it and why.”

She sighed. “Is this part of the main quest? Or is this a side thing that we get to do?”

“Well…it’s kind of crucial to know what happened, but you don’t need it to beat the dungeon.”

She looked at her phone. They had been playing for four hours now. “How many floors do we have left?”

“Besides this one, two.”

Her head connected with the table.

—

In the study, the elf found the next journal entry.

“Nearly as soon as I got inside, I started sketching what I could. My hands have never worked that fast. I’m sure the Fairy had never see someone so frantic. She loaned me her study, with the promise that I would make better use of it than her. The Library is one room over and has more books then I had ever seen in my life. I could travel until the day I die, and still not learn as much as I would from those books. The Fairy, Aster, she calls herself, seems to enjoy my company. I presented my inventions and their functions and she was delighted, though I believe she didn’t care for the flying machines, since she has such magnificent wings. I might just stay here instead of returning home to Lunesti. I’m sure father would love that. Four years is a long time to be away. I often wonder if they get my letters, they never write me back. I digress. I’m in an enchanted castle!”

—

“Aster?” Astrid deadpanned. “Really?”

“It means ‘star,’ for your information!” Fishlegs defended. “Besides, I starting writing this before I knew you. So it’s not intentional.”

“Fair enough.”

Another hour passed and Astrid’s phone died.

—

On the stairs to the third floor, it was the mage this time that found a piece of paper.

—

Fishlegs passed the notecard to Heather, who in turn gave it to Astrid.

“Wait, why do I get it?”

“Because I can’t read!” Heather stated. “Remember?”

Astrid scoffed and read out loud.  

“My dearest Aster,

It is with a heavy heart that I tell you I have to leave. I have gotten word that my hometown has been destroyed. I must go and find out for myself. I wanted to tell you in person, but I am a coward. Leaving here is hard enough. I have a strange regard to you, which there is a chain connected to both of our ribs, and with distance the chain will pull and I would take to bleeding inwardly. I will take nothing with me but the key you lent me, with the promise to bring it back soon. Hopefully, I can sustain these wounds long enough to pay my respects. You have often said you do not receive gifts from others, so I leave you with my greatest possession: My heart. Nowhere will feel like home without you. I love you, Aster, most earnestly.

Your faithful friend,

Henry.”

Everyone paused to look at Fishlegs.

“What? Henry is a good name!”

Astrid looked smugly over to Hiccup and sang, “Someone’s in love with a fairy!”

“You had to use my name, Fish?”

“For the sake of the integrity of the game, yes, I did.”

Hiccup chuckled awkwardly, and looked at his phone. “Well, it’s 9 o’clock and there’s one more floor left. Are we pulling an all nighter?”

Something clicked in the back of Astrid’s mind. “Wait…I think I was supposed to do something ate 8…”

“Was it feed Stormfly? Because you already did…”

“No, it wasn’t that.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Oh god, what was it?”

Suddenly, she stood, knocking the chair away from her with a clatter. “I was supposed to meet Scott!!”

Henry gasped too as he stood. “We’ll finish this up next week! You get going!”

“Thanks for understanding! See you guys later!” She nearly ran to the door. “Oh, and Fishlegs. Thanks for letting me join! I had too much fun!”

—

Astrid sped home. Traffic laws be damned, she lived twenty-five minutes away from Hiccup. But she made it in fifteen. She’d never be this lucky again.

She hopped out of her jeep and hurried to the door. “I’m home!” She called to her roommate. “But just for a second, then I’m leaving again!”

She burst into her room and turned on the light, then jumped a mile high.

Scott was sitting on her bed, glowering with a white hot rage.

“What-how—I thought—!” She stammered. She had practiced what she was going to say to him, but they all flew out her ears at the sight of him.

“You didn’t answer my texts or my calls.” He stated.

“My phone died.” She fished it out of her pocket and held it out to him as proof. “I swear to God that I didn’t mean to ditch you. I was at a friend’s house and we were playing Dungeons and Dragons and—“

He laughed. That was a good sign, right? “You were playing what?”

“Dungeons and Dragons…” She repeated, quietly.

The anger was still there, but he looked embarrass as he stood. “You’re telling me…that you left me alone in that restaurant, by myself, because you were playing that…that stupid, weird game? Are you serious?!”

“Scott, I swear I didn’t mean to do that to you!”

“I can’t believe you!” He shouted, startling her. “Do you know how humiliating that was? I waited there for an hour, and you never showed! People kept looking over at me an whispering. It was horrible, Astrid!”

Astrid reddened slightly, hating the feeling of being in the wrong. But she was also a fighter, and in this situation, it wasn’t really a good trait to have. Her nose flared. “Now you know how I feel.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

She raised her head defiantly to meet his eyes. “You heard me. You’ve done this kind of shit to me before. But there are times I’ve waited more than an hour for you to show up.”

He ground his teeth. “Me not showing up is different, Astrid!”

“And how is that?”

“I’m very busy! I don’t have a lot of time to spare for you! Sometimes, things happen, and I hate having my time wasted!”

She poked his chest, “And you think I enjoy sitting around waiting for you?!” Her hands clenched into a fist as her anger mounted. Honestly, this argument was a long time coming. “You are the most conceited, oblivious, self-centered—“

His fist connecting with her face hurt more then she could fathom. Sure, he was strong. But never before had he hit her. Violence was something she sensed in him, but she never imagined he’d resort to it.

“You don’t get to speak to me like that, Astrid!” He shouted, his voice hurting her throbbing head.

She in turn clenched her fist and wound up, preparing to fight back.

But she didn’t.

Scott wasn’t the type to just take a punch. They’d volley back and forth until someone was unconscious. It had to end with her, so she took a deep breath and let her anger go.

And it was hard.

“You hit me.” She stated, plainly.

“You deserved it!” He shot back. “I will not stand here and have you yell and berate me with this is your goddamn fault.”

Again, she kept her anger at bay. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I was late.” It felt like poison in her mouth as she spoke.

Hearing her apology, Scott’s rage began to subside. Without her fight, he had nothing to feed on and began to cool down. “I…” He looked away from her, “I’m sorry I hit you. You…didn’t deserve it.” It sounded like he didn’t entirely believe it. But she’d accept it.

“It won’t happen again,” she offered a smile.

“It won’t happen again,” he agreed. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Uh…I should probably go before…well, I’m still kind of hurt…”

“Okay. Maybe it’s for the best.” She sighed a shaky breath. “Drive safe.”

“Yeah…put some ice on that.” He shouldered past her and went to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” she assured, half-heartedly.

Maybe when later came, he’d realize how stupid and awful he was and really apologize.

It would be nice, but it wasn’t realistic.

—

The paladin ascended to the top floor alone. Waiting in the audience chamber, was a werewolf, huge and black.

The knight raised her sword to defend herself, while the beast roared in anguish.

She ran full force, blade at the ready, and delivered a blow to the heart.

What the paladin didn’t know, was that the werewolf was an enemy she was never supposed to fight alone. It grabbed her by the legs in one hand, and her arms in the other.

With little effort, she was ripped in half.

[xyliane]

the man in the moon stayed up too late

summary: it didn’t go according to plan, but gon wouldn’t have it any other way. (a morning of firsts)

notes: @canzie-gumm I’m so so sorry this is STUPIDLY LATE so I wrote an extra long ficlet that is not at all influenced by me rewatching the chimera ant arc with a friend and dying slowly from everything going on /sweats. title’s a song from fellowship of the ring because sap knows no boundaries. aged-up killugon, (fluff warning), 1100 words

---

“What was this all supposed to be?” Killua demands, gesturing widely against the sunny dawn sky.

Gon smiles, relishing how little resistance Killua has to their hands tangled and their bodies leaning against each other. They’ve been out all night, running through quiet streets and climbing in and through closed up amusement parks, getting terrible pizza at 2am from a half awake uni student and fighting over who got the last slice. Now it’s morning, finally, the first donuts of the day still warm as they sit on the roof of Killua’s hotel and watch the sun come up. The dawn streaks Killua’s white hair with molten gold and pale pink, shining and soft and strong.

Gon rests his head against Killua’s shoulder. He’s missed this in their time apart, having Killua close enough to lean on. It shouldn’t be comfortable, not when Killua’s all edges, but it is better than any pillow. “What was what supposed to be?” he asks.

Killua presses him back with a pointed finger, making Gon whine at the abrupt lack of warmth against his cheek. “The…the everything!” he says. “We just wandered around the city all night.”

Gon hums, an ache in the back of his eyes from the lack of sleep for the past few days. But he’d take that ache any day if it means squeezing out another minute with his best friend. “Did you have fun?”

Killua splutters. “Of course I did! I always have fun with you, even on your stupid ideas.” Gon can’t help but stick his tongue out. His ideas aren’t stupid, especially if Killua had fun. But something about that makes Killua flush bright red, refusing to look at Gon. It’s really cute, but now’s probably not the time to mention that. “You said we were going on a date.”

“Didn’t we?”

“We just did what we always do! Only we held hands the whole time.” He holds up the evidence, palms glued to each other and fingers laced, Killua’s pale skin shining against Gon’s.

Gon tightens his grip without meaning to, but Killua squeezes back all the same. “I like holding your hand, Killua,” he says.

Killua clears his throat, somehow turning even redder. “That’s not the point, you idiot. I saw when you went on that date with Palm when we were kids. You had this whole day of set-up you dragged me on, and that was before you even got to her.”

True. The date with Palm had taken a lot of work—Gon’s still pleased with himself for finding the firefly tree, still remembers the delighted look on Palm’s face when she saw it. It’s nothing compared to how Killua looks even now, face squashed with confusion and muscles stiff with bound-up emotions, but it was nice. It’s just not what Gon wants, then or now, because Palm is a friend but she’s not Killua.

Gon brushes the sun-streaked hair out of Killua’s face, only slightly surprised that Killua meets him stare for stare. “I only had one date with Palm, so I had to make it special for her,” he says. “Besides, we didn’t know her that well until later—if you date someone you don’t know very well, it has to be well planned. I wanted to make sure she had a good time.”

Killua covers Gon’s hand with his. “So you didn’t plan anything for me?” he says, voice deliberately blank in the way he gets when he’s worried and trying not to show it.

Gon did, though.  He planned for weeks, talking with Alluka in secret to make sure Killua would be free and she’d be busy. Dinner at the place with chandeliers made of gilded chocolate, and a trip to the park with the lightning struck roses where no one would notice two teenagers messing with the lamps. But when he’d shown up at the hotel, his heart beating three times too fast, Killua’d looked like he was ready to flee, a deer caught in headlights with nowhere to run. 

So Gon’d changed his mind. Killua’s happiness is more important than any plans. He says, “You were so nervous when I got to your room, I figured we’d take it slow instead. I just wanted you to have a good time with me, Killua.”

“I wasn’t nervous.” Gon raises an eyebrow, and Killua sighs. “Fine, I was nervous, but I’ve never been on a date with you, and I thought it would be. Like what you did with Palm.”

“I could never do that, Killua, not if you didn’t want it. This is just our first date—I didn’t want you to be unhappy. Especially not about us.”

A small smile blooms on Killua’s face, brighter and warmer than the dawn. Gon feels it all the way down to his toes. “Our first?” he asks. “Does that mean we’re going on another one?”

The thought that Killua wouldn’t want a second (or third, or seventh, or hundredth) hadn’t even crossed his mind, and the sudden realization that he might washes over him in waves of frozen ice. “If you want to,” Gon says carefully.

“Do you?”

For one of the smartest person he knows, Killua can be an idiot sometimes. “Of course I do, Killua! I want to go on lots of dates with you.” And he has ideas. Places they’ve never seen, things they’ve never done. Anything, really, as long as they have each other.

“Good,” Killua says. “Because this would be really stupid otherwise.”

Before Gon has time to protest—going on dates is not stupid, especially when they’re with someone you like—Killua leans in, calloused fingers rough against Gon’s cheek and mouth soft and warm against his lips.

Oh.

He can’t breathe, even when Killua pulls back and smiles widely, blue eyes reflecting the sunlight and the stars and everything in between. All night, ever since Killua first opened the door to his hotel room and grabbed Gon’s hand and never let go, Gon’s wanted to kiss him. When he groaned at the terrible pizza toppings, when he’d laughed at a terrible joke, when he’d taken off down the road but forgot he was still holding onto Gon. If he thinks about it, Gon’s wanted to kiss his best friend for ages. And now...

“Can we do that again?” Gon says.

Killua gapes at him for a moment, and then bursts into laughter. It rings bell-like across the roof, echoing in the morning air, the best sound Gon’s ever heard. It only starts to fade when he leans his forehead against Gon’s as though trying to stabilize the both of them. Once he’s recovered enough to speak, Killua says, “Yeah. But only if I get to take you out this time.”

“No way! I’ve got the next one,” Gon says. “You didn’t like this date enough, so I have to make up for it.”

“It’s my turn, dumbass,” Killua says.

“Is not.”

“Is too! And it’ll be way better than anything you’ve got. I—”

Gon cuts him off with another kiss, feeling Killua grinning against his mouth. Next time.