#i probably sound insane to my followers who know nothing about my ocs. which is most of them. hi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fireflyinsummer · 3 years ago

Text

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

[Fear of the Water, by SYML]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

“So, how did it go?”

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

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

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

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

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you say so.”

“Stop saying that.”

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

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

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

Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As in bi-curious?”

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

“Okay, then. Be careful!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You better watch out,” he spits.

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

He’s lying. You can tell.

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

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

He’s angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, there’s not much to know.”

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

“What is this, an interrogation?”

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

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

“Tell you what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

“(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you mind?”

“Uh… No?”

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

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

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

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

“What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

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

“So we’re friends now?”

“Pretty much.”

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

“You’re bossy today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

“Will I, now?”

“Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“You haven’t convinced me yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

“I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you?”

“Home,” you answered without much thought.

“I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

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

“You’re not.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m going out for a bit.”

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

“Last time you said that…”

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

“Is your phone charged, young lady?”

“Yep, it is.”

“Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just… I’ve never done this.”

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who is it?”

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

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

“Sarah? What is it?”

“Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

Your blood ran cold.

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

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

“Sarah,” you grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi, what-“

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

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

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

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

Brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

“Y/N.”

“Yes?!”

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answered straight away.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

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

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

||\\

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

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

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

No. He promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

“What, now? Y/N-“

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

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

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

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

“I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Hello, Mr. Newton.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

“In the kitchen, honey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s changed?”

“You.”

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

“H-How come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

“Then I don’t understand.”

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

“It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” he deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

||\\

“Get in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t,” he snorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. I liked the dragon.”

||\\

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

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

“Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

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

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

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

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

“Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

“Heathcliff? I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My place.”

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

“Whatever you want, grandpa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bedroom,” you commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Father taught me,” he shrugged.

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

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

“Home,” he stated tersely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

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

“Me, too.”

“I know. That’s why.”

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

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

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

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

“May I know the others?”

“No,” you glared.

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

“Not even then.”

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

“Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

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

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

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

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

Alright. Great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“B-But the protocol-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you afraid?”

Yes.

Fuck, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

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

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

“Pretty much, yeah.”

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

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

“So you rebelled?”

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

“It’s the same thing.”

“Not for us, it’s not.”

“Okay. Then what happened?”

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

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

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

“Because of the devil, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is your time up?”

His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

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

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

“Then why?”

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

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

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

“War,” he completed.

||\\

“While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

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

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

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

“Don’t I have a say in it?”

“Ultimately… no.”

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

[Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine, Tae.”

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

“Taehyung…” you warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we go home, please?”

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

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

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

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cuddles-and-kisses · 3 years ago

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So The Cat's Out Of The Bag,,,

Another fanfic for Agapito (an OC that belongs to @yandereaffections) The story starts under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,908 Trigger Warnings: Subtle yandereness, I can't think of any others

It’s 11 pm. I’ve been avoiding schoolwork all day and I’m in no rush to fix it. I've been writing fanfiction, of sorts, for the past 3 hours. On the bright side, the first draft is done! My back hurts from sitting so long while my butt hurts because I’ve sat on a wooden stool this long. I need to take a break but what to do? Oh, what to do? My weekly planner is wide open on a bookstand to my right. I could be productive, or I could keep avoiding them... So the planner is closed now. I’ve reorganized pens in a pen cup for the seventh time. Is there a limit to how many times a person can adjust a desk lamp before going insane? There has to be something else to do but what? As if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from my Baby. We’ve been official for 6 months so our dates are a lot more casual nowadays.

“Angel, I want attention. Unlock the back door” I’m aware it doesn’t seem like it but this is how he asks to come over. He won’t come over until I respond giving the green light. “Bold of you to assume I’m home and not partying at a random frat house” We both know I’m not doing jack at 11 pm on a Friday. Nonetheless, it’s fun to pretend I have a flourishing social life. “That’s cute. Back door please” Alright, now to get up and- ow, fuck, ouchie, ok, hold on. *POP* There we go!

I should probably pick my room up real quick. I made my bed earlier today so that’s not a problem. The svallerup rug from Ikea collects dirt a lot faster than I expected. Although would he really notice? It’s not bright in here. My dresser by the door looks fine. The futon is in couch mode, so there’s not much left I don’t have to clean up for him. In reality, I’m not cleaning for him, I just like having a clean room. The last thing I do is turn on the fairy lights above my head then light a vanilla candle. I know he’s coming over to cuddle or really do anything involving him getting affection. I might as well make my bedroom reflect that, right?

I half-jog upstairs to unlock our back door. Why the back door? It’s not because I love Jesus. Let me explain. The living room floor creaks way too loud. Also, my parent’s bedroom is right next to that door. The side door alerts our dogs to start pitching a fit. How can they hear it from the opposite side of our house? I may never be able to understand. Moonlight drifts halfway across the backroom. Sparse nightlights cover the remaining needed light. I flick on the backdoor lights followed by opening a few blinds to let more light in. Their orange glow overpowers the moonlight near the backdoor.

For whatever reason, the moon is far brighter tonight. Or my pupils are hella dilated because I’m thinking about my Baby. Either way, moonlight dusts over parts of the backroom and kitchen ahead of me. One last light to turn on. An LED light above our kitchen sink smashes through most surrounding darkness, making it almost impossible to see into the living room. White cabinets outline our kitchen. None of the cabinets match each other in this house. It’s as if this house was built in parts instead of planned out from the start. The counter is occupied with things you’d expect; a bread box, knife set, fruit basket, coffee pot, and an air fryer. Yet, there's evidence real people live here. Crumbs from a snack, mail by the fruit basket, half-empty coffee pot, as well as children’s toys forgotten all about

Everyone else is snuggled up in warm beds, sleeping. I can pick out each person’s snoring pattern when they poke through tonight’s ambiance. There are moments where quiet feels like serenity, others where it feels like emptiness. I can’t decide which one I’m feeling because I realize I’m about to have a visitor. A cup of coffee sounds like the perfect way to waste a few minutes while waiting for my lover.

Coffee cup out of the overhead cabinet. A coffee spoon from beside the coffee pot. Fake sugar off the shelves. Room temperature coffee in the pot from this morning. French vanilla coffee creamer out of the fridge. And just like that, a proper cup of coffee is served. Light reflects off the glossy coating painted over our pale coffee cups. Mom considers it a priority to have everything match or look cohesive. Appearing put together is a source of pride for her. A cup is a cup however matching cups make her happy. My ears perk up at hearing his tires pulling into the driveway. My coffee creamer swirls in the cup as he walks up the driveway. The coffee spoon clings against the inside of my coffee cup simultaneously with the creak of our back gate. All that’s left is to wash off this week’s coffee spoon then put it back. I have only a few more seconds until my Love is with me again. I’m a sappy and hopeful romantic for him, get off my back. He’s learned how to silently open the back door and if I didn’t have good peripheral vision, I would’ve yelped.

Intimate hands snake around my hips as a tender kiss is pressed against my neck. I can feel the tender smile tugging at his lips after the kiss, he had a really good day? His body is pressed against mine as he murmurs “Honey, I’m home~” behind my ear; earning a soft chuckle from me. I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his neck, and greet him with a deep kiss. This time on the lips. “Welcome home, my Love.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the cigarette he had on his way over here. The absence of alcohol or weed stench affirms he didn’t have a bad day at work. I can’t wait until these interactions become a daily occurrence. This man is breathtaking under normal circumstances; but, under the glimmer of moonlight,,, I can’t form a single thought while looking at him. The raw admiration and love this man holds in his eyes? Who could stand a chance against him? Not me. Wrong choice.

His hands linger along the sides of my hips. I hold his arms in an attempt to keep him close to me, just a little longer. “I brought you a few things. I’ll go set them on your desk.” He knows gifts aren’t my thing in spite of that he claims I deserve the entire universe. I breathed out, “Ok, I’ll be down in a minute,” then started moving to get my coffee cup, as well as a few snacks to bring downstairs. He starts heading downstairs content with how flustered I am. WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE THE FANFICTION IS ABOUT HIM!! I whisper yell ‘Baby’ until his head pops back around the corner. I threaten him to not touch or look at my laptop. It was a pathetic attempt considering what he does for a living. In my defense, I tried. I forgot he’s in essence an overgrown teenager who will do the exact opposite of what he’s told. Wanna know what he does? Grin. I’m so fucked.

Agapito dashes downstairs and leaves me in unadulterated fear. I’m frozen in place, trying to come to terms with my fate as his footsteps fade. It’s not smut or anything, just a simple night and morning routine imagining that we lived together. This is going to be so embarrassing. Please spare me this treacherous fate and undying embarrassment. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Get your coffee then snacks then, simply, accept what’s just happened.

With arms full of snacks, I shut my bedroom door as gingerly as I can. Setting the cup on the dresser right by the door to make this a little easier. He’s standing at my computer, reading through the last page. Oh hey, he brought me Rolo’s as well as 3 Musketeers. Nice! Oh wait, he’s done reading. His shoulders aren’t tense; his breathing hasn’t changed; all the same, he’s just standing there. “Why did you write this out instead of doing it?” That’s a good question tbh. My Baby’s voice sounds hurt, despite that, he’s trying to hide it. Ok, he needs a hug. Now to throw the snack on the bed. He needs a rib-crushing hug and you bet your butt I’ll be the one to deliver. I tug at his elbow so he’ll face me then pull him into me. His shoulders are right under my chin when we’re facing each other. I bury my face in his neck while my arms hug him as tight as I can. Except why is he upset about this?

His love for me is nothing to scoff at. He loves me the same way he wanted to be loved when he was younger. We’ve figured out he’s catching up from his pre-teen years and onward. So about 13 years without a stable romantic relationship. When he was trying to court me I had to call him out all the time for manipulation. I know he’s terrified I’ll think he’s not good enough. He has episodes of frantic attempts to meet all of my needs, even if it’s not asked for or needed. What is going through his head? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? That he’s not loving me enough so I have to turn to a fictional version of him? Does he think he’s not good enough for me to do this stuff with him? None of those are true, obviously. I explicitly stated that in the story he just read. It doesn’t mean he won’t get stuck inside his head. I need to tell him the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t, he’s a finely-tuned human lie detector. One more deep breath. Squeeze him a little tighter. Look him in his eyes and come clean.

“The reason I didn’t just act these out is because, I didn’t know how to ask for it.” His expression shifts from confused hurt to understanding. I start rambling, “I want to have these experiences with you. I’d give anything to have that life with you but we've only been dating for 6 months and I just, wasn’t sure, how to phrase it.” I’m choking on my own pulse from emotions. I realize I was shifting my weight left to right when he pulls me in for another hug and kisses my forehead. We stand there in each other’s embrace for a few moments before he suggests I come to his house tomorrow night. We both know what he’s suggesting. I can’t help but adamantly agree. Excitement zips through my body thinking about tomorrow night. A smile pulls at my lips as I ask, “Do you mind if I wear this shirt tomorrow night?”

Tonight is about Netflix, snacks, and rediscovering the curves and contours of each other’s bodies. Though, not before I mess up his hair while calling him a butthead. It’s evident his insecurities are still tugging at him. Funny enough, his insecurities forgot they’re fighting against me for his attention.

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lover-of-skellies · 3 years ago

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Marked

So uhh, this isn’t off the prompt list thing and literally no one asked for it, but I decided to go back and edit a super old thing I wrote. It’s supposed to be part of something a lot bigger, but for now, the whole thing’s been discontinued

Essentially, this is an OC insert kinda thing with my girl Adrienne. She’s been trapped in Horrortale for a little while, and since Sans decided to be merciful, she’s been allowed to live in a spare room in his and Pap’s house. She has free roam of the house and can do pretty much whatever the hell she wants (as long as it doesn’t involve getting into the pantry and digging into their reserves), and in exchange for all of that and being allowed to live, he and Papyrus have some super basic rules they expect her to follow

Rule number 1 is that she is to be helpful, and try to maintain the house while they’re away. Rule number two is that she’s not to leave the house without covering her face and hands. Rule number three is that she’s never to leave the house alone, without one or both of them nearby

Out of boredom and hunger, she leaves the house one day, following the smell of food. This doesn’t seem like it’d be anything huge, but it’s a major no-no, and it doesn’t go unpunished

Papyrus is also surprisingly good at giving advice, too. He might not have much experience with dating, but he knows exactly what he's talking about

If you make it to the end, I have to give you kudos because this is a complete cringe-fest ^^"

((Gonna add some potential trigger warnings for: angst, slight violence, and public humiliation))

Pain.

Searing pain.

The once blue-nette had been exploring the town, much to her guardians’ displeasure. She’d known it wasn’t a good idea, and for what reasons, she was well aware, but she had to do something. Staying holed away in the house every moment of every day was a completely new level of boring, one that she hadn’t even known existed. Her guardian had made it very clear that she was to never leave the house unless he or his brother were to accompany her, but today… well. His brother was away, probably at the capital getting physically and verbally abused by their queen, and he himself? She wasn’t sure what he did while he was away, but she’d learned not to ask too many questions. The first few times she tried asking, he’d been quick to change the subject or dodge her questions entirely, or he’d simply laugh and make a joke which he deemed hilarious when in reality, it wasn’t. Once he got tired of her asking, his humor quickly dissipated and was replaced by anger. He didn’t even have to look at her for her to know he was upset; all it took was a few short, clipped responses, and how she could practically hear him frown when he spoke. That’s beside the point though.

At the moment, she was suspended in mid air by her throat, her legs flailing as she began clawing at her assailant’s arm, her teeth bared as she struggled to free herself. The slightly withered fire monster shrugged off her attempts to attack him as if they were nothing at all; even though his strength had been diminished and was now only half of what it used to be, he was still far tougher than she could ever hope to be. Having smelled food, she made the mistake of slipping into the bar he owned, her hood tugged as far over her face as possible. She had glanced around the establishment, taken note of the other monsters nearby, and made another mental note of where all the exits were, should she need to run. After very cautiously crossing the bar and taking a seat at the old, worn counter, the flamesman had wordlessly poured a glass of water. He nudged it in her direction, and she’d eagerly accepted it, being mindful of how much of her face was concealed as she sipped the cold beverage.

For a moment, she was relaxed, and she nearly forgot the very real danger she was in. She was snapped out of her brief feeling of serenity as the Grillby fully shifted his attention to her. He made a soft, questioning sound, and she kept her head low, speaking just barely loud enough for him to hear, “What’re ya serving, Grillby?” He grunted, well prepared to offer her a short, yet simple answer, but was cut off by another monster who seated himself beside the girl, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before, friend… where are you from?” The teen lowered her gaze to the countertop, catching a glimpse of what looked to be faded blue fur. She didn’t know what monster could possibly want to talk to her, but she remained as calm and casual as possible in hope of not drawing any more attention to herself, “The ruins.”

With their interest now fully piqued, the monster beside her hummed incredulously, “The ruins, huh?... I take it you’ve met our former queen then. Toriel.” Upon hearing the familiar goat monster’s name, the teen saw images flicker in her mind; memories of her time in the ruins before she managed to escape. How Toriel had guided her through all the traps and puzzles that laid in waiting. How she held her close and allowed her to sob into her shoulder. How she’d convinced Adrienne to go back to her house, where there’d be a warm bed, food, and all the love and care she could ever want. Toriel had baked a cinnamon and butterscotch pie, very excited to share it with her, but not long after the teen had eaten a small slice, she’d felt her stomach turn. Her world went black, and when she awoke, she was tucked into a bed in a dimly lit room, which looked as though it had once belonged to a child. She felt incredibly ill and had almost no strength, and she could barely stand without feeling light headed. To her surprise, however, her willing ally, Flowey, had made a surprise return. Adrienne had seen Toriel had burn him alive, so she didn’t understand how he was even still alive.

Flowey had been through this exact same situation too many times to count, as it turned out, and he’d revealed Toriel’s true intentions: make the teen weak enough to require constant care and attention, and make her stay in the ruins forever. Or at the very least, until she died. Taking advantage of a distraction provided by Flowey, she’d waited for the goat monster to disappear to another part of the house. She’d then made her way to the kitchen and began to search around the floorboards. According to Flowey, there was a panel that could be removed, and underneath it, she’d find the remedy she needed to regain her health. She’d found the vial and downed it without question, only to look up and see the crazed goat monster staring at her from the doorway. The look on her face was one that still occasionally haunted Adrienne's dreams, and she’d been trying to go as long as possible without thinking about it. It appeared as though she’d be getting no such luck today, though.

Clearing her throat and trying to force down her growing anxiety, she nodded, keeping her head down, “Yeah, I have. I’ve met her.” The blue furred stranger watched her with an unnerving amount of intensity and she fought the urge to squirm and lean away from them. As they spoke again, their voice held a curious edge, “Huh. I can only imagine how that went.” Nodding silently, the teen returned to her glass of water, more than ready for the stranger to go away. She knew what would happen if she was discovered, and she wanted no part of that whatsoever.

The monster leaned closer to her and sniffed the air, letting out a pleased sigh before mumbling, “Friend… you don’t exactly smell like one of us. Monsters have their own natural and unique scents... But you, however,” A fuzzy paw-like hand seized her arm with a vice-like grip, and the stranger's voice shifted from a mumble to what was more like a hiss, “you smell like you belong on the grill.” Adrienne began attempting to yank her arm back out of the monster’s grasp and they laughed, simply using their free hand to tug her hood down, revealing her identity to Grillby and the other bar patrons that surrounded them. Her faded grey eyes widened in fear as the monsters began to shout at the flamesman, excitedly demanding that he cook her for them. Despite how the teen shook her head in protest, the mass of living fire moved closer to her, rapidly snatching her up by the throat. She was lifted off of the ground, and he ignored her pained screams as the heat from his hand began to scorch the skin of her neck.

With adrenaline now coursing through her veins, she let out a string of expletives and pulled both of her legs up until her knees touched her chest. The flamesman took a single step toward his kitchen, and then froze as both of her deceptively weak legs shot toward him, delivering a sharp kick to the space just below his chest. She didn’t expect her little stunt to actually work, but to her pleasant surprise, he’d released his grip on her out of shock, gingerly touching the now injured part of himself. Adrienne dropped to the floor and quickly regained her balance, paying no attention to the few monsters who rushed to Grillby’s side. She proceeded to climb over the counter and sprint toward the door, the footsteps behind her a clear indicator that she was being pursued now. Not that she could blame them for any though; food was insanely hard to come by, so if you had a chance to eat but the food got up and ran, wouldn’t you go after it too?

Reaching out with a clawed hand, some unseen monster snagged a fistful of her hair and harshly pulled, causing her to yelp and almost tumble to the floor. She glanced around, surveying her surroundings and checking the exits again. Part of what looked to be a dog’s muzzle could be seen in her peripheral vision and she winced, struggling to free herself from the creature's grip. She only received an amused cackle from the monster in question, followed by him instructing some of the others to grab her and haul her back to the kitchen for Grillby. Looking around again and seeing them approaching her, she stuffed her hand into one of her pockets and fished around, searching through the various items inside for a moment before revealing a pocket knife. Unsure of what she might do, some of the monsters around her stepped back, but the one still pulling her hair only growled. Though she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise at the sound, she lifted an arm and made one single, fluid slicing motion with her hand, the blade of the pocket knife slicing through her hair. While she hated having to cut her hair and knew it’d take forever to grow back, she bared her teeth at the large dog monster, her lips curling into a smug grin as she noticed the look of surprise on his face.

Taking advantage of the moment, she darted to the nearest door, fully prepared to run out into the freezing streets and make a mad dash back to her protector’s house. Freedom and safety were so close and within her reach now, but as she whipped the door open and scrambled to get outside, she slammed face first into yet another monster. Letting out a frustrated and startled screech, she began trying to squeeze past them. They simply chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nearly size-zero waist and pulling her flush against themselves. Hearing the chuckle, realization dawned on her; this was her protector. She would be safe now.

She stole a glance up at his face and his scarlet iris flickered briefly down to her, his amused grin shifting into a taut line. Oh, she knew that expression all too well by now.

From that look alone, she knew someone would be hurt today.

Though his arm was almost uncomfortably tight around her, she said nothing, only turning her body slightly and burying her face in the front of his heavily blood stained shirt. The teen whimpered, wordlessly admitting just how scared she really was at the moment. He shifted his focus entirely to the other monsters that were now staring at both of them, and sensing their gaze, the teen whined faintly, her guardian lightly squeezing her in an effort to reassure her.

Thoroughly confused as to why she wasn’t dead yet, someone called out to her protector, “Perfect timing, Sans. Now how about you kill her so we can all eat already?” The skeleton’s normally rough voice held a bitter edge and he practically growled, “She ain’t free game, pal. I’m sorry ta say it, but I won’t be hackin’ this one ta bits for ya.” A crowd was beginning to form now and Adrienne tried to press as close to her friend as she could, wishing everyone would hurry up and leave. She already hated crowds on their own, and knowing that this particular crowd all wanted to see her get roasted alive didn’t exactly make her feel any better. Clearly taken aback, the same monster that’d addressed Sans spoke up again, “Oh really? And why’s that? You never helped the humans that fell before her, so what makes her so special?”

Curiosity piqued, she glanced up at the skeleton again, though he didn’t return the gaze. He just continued staring the other monster down, his iris nearly glowing now from the extent of his agitation, “Because she’s mine. Ya hear me? This little slab a’ meat belongs ta me.” A tiny burst of heat rushed to her face upon hearing his response; was he really claiming her right now? Claiming that she was his, and using his power over the others to coerce them into sparing her? Unbelievable.

Another monster decided to interject, countering Sans’ statement with, “Then how come you haven’t marked her yet?”

Oh boy. Of course someone would ask. Why wouldn’t they? She had no idea what she was expecting, but it clearly wasn’t that. With an annoyed huff, the skeleton spun her around, making sure everyone could see her face as he fired back with another sharp retort, “Heh, funny you should ask. I was on my way home with the intention of doin’ just that, but I guess we won’t have the privacy now. Oh well. All you fuckwits better be watchin’, because I’m only gonna do this once.”

Wait, he was going to mark her? Here? In front of everyone?

Face burning with embarrassment, she dropped her gaze to the floor, letting out a soft squeak as he grabbed the collar of her shirt and jacket and pulled them aside to reveal her shoulder. Not bothering to give any indication of what he was about to do, a faintly glowing blue tongue snaked out of his maw and traced over a very specific patch of her skin. The feeling of his tongue - which consisted solely of highly concentrated magic - on her skin was like nothing she’d experienced before. There was some warmth to it that was followed by a tingle, which was likely caused by the magic itself, and another involuntary whimper slipped past her lips. Her face grew hotter at hearing herself make that sound again, which to her horror, Sans had also heard. It earned a soft chuckle from him and his mandible shifted into a pleased grin.

And then he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

It happened so fast that she didn’t even have time to register what happened, but at the lack of the expected pain, she unconsciously fidgeted. Wasn’t this supposed to hurt?... What was preventing her from being in pain right now? She felt his tongue trace over her skin again, accompanied by more tingling and… numbness? Had he intentionally numbed her shoulder before biting her?

Seeing that he had been true to his word and had in fact marked her, the other monsters quickly grew bored, the vast majority of them also visibly disappointed as they returned to their prior activities. A sense of relief washed over her and she sighed, stealing a quick glance at her friend as he slowly released her. His tongue lingered behind momentarily and lapped up the blood that seeped from the injury, and his voice took a husky tone as he purred, “Ya taste good, kiddo. I think I could get used ta this.” Her already flushed face became a much brighter shade of red than before and she scoffed, refusing to look at him, “Don’t count on it, mister.” “Awe, c’mon Addy. Help me out here… it’s not my fault that ya taste as good as ya look.” Growling softly, Adrienne scrunched her face up into a look of annoyance in hopes of masking her embarrassment as she rolled her eyes, “Pervert.” “No idea what you’re talkin’ about.” “Uh huh, right. I definitely believe that.” He lightly jabbed her side with the tip of a phalange and she squirmed, yelping in surprise. She tried to twist her small frame away from him and he laughed softly, “Whatever. How about we ditch this place and head home now? This bar is no place for a little lady like ya.” Looking back at him over her shoulder, she flicked her tongue at him.

They’d left the bar and began to walk home in uncomfortable silence. The moment they made it back to his house and he’d set her down, she found herself being roughly shoved against the closed front door with one of his large hands catching her wrists and pinning them above her head. Her eyes widened in shock and she squirmed, “H-Hey, what the hell are you-” Meeting her gaze, the look he wore was enough to silence her, his completely dilated red iris both captivating and terrifying her all at once.

Then he spoke, his gruff voice low, “You disobeyed me, Adrienne.”

Forcing her voice out and reaching nothing louder than a whisper, she frowned, “I… I know I did. I’m really sorry, Sans. I won’t do it again, I swear.” “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I didn’t get ta you in time?” “Yes, I do! Really!” “If you knew the risks, then why’d you do it?” Feeling much smaller than before as he continued staring her down, Adrienne sheepishly looked away from him, “There’s just.... Not a lot to do here when you and Paps are gone, and I was bored. I did a bunch of cleaning and reorganizing, and I even tried to fix the TV. I dug through the hallway closet and looked through the games, but do you have any idea how hard it is to actually play a game by yourself and have fun at the same time?”

With his free hand, the skeleton cupped his face, letting a deep sigh, “You risked your life… you risked dying, because you were bored? Am I hearin’ that right?” Feeling guilty, she slowly nodded, choosing to keep her mouth shut this time. Catching her completely by surprise, what sounded like a giggle could be heard, and though it took a moment to fully register, she had a realization that made her blood run cold; the giggle came from Sans.

Nervously lifting her gaze again to look up at him, the only thing that began to pulse within her was regret. Regret that she’d disobeyed him, regret that she went against his wishes, regret that she’d upset him so badly, regret that she even opened her mouth at all to speak to him, and most of all, regret that she’d decided to look at him.

He leaned back the smallest bit, one hand still firmly pinning her wrists above her head. Her eyes widened in complete terror as his giggling began to escalate, growing louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter as blue tinted tears pricked at the rims of his sockets. Not bothering to wipe away the tears, he placed his free hand on his face. His open palm rested on his cheek as he curled his fingers, the first two settling inside his empty socket; judging by the slight movement his arm made, he’d begun lightly tugging on the rim of it. That was never a good sign. Yes, she loved it when he relaxed enough to laugh with her from time to time, but this display right now? This was the stuff of nightmares.

Then almost as quickly as it’d started, his laughter came to an abrupt halt and his wide grin vanished, leaving only a resentful scowl behind in its place. As his focus shifted back to the teen, her heart began to race. She honestly had no idea what he planned to do now. He then began to slowly tighten his grip on her wrists, a soft growl rumbling from within his chest. Paying no attention to the grimace of pain she wore as his phalanges began digging into her skin, he leaned down, the space between them reduced to almost nothing as he hissed, “You’re an idiot. Get out of my goddamn sight, human.” Adrienne opened her mouth to force an apology out but was quickly cut off, crying out in surprise and pain as the skeleton dug his phalanges even further into her wrists and began to break skin. Rolling his single eye light, he scoffed, stepping back and suddenly yanking her to the side, releasing his grip on her wrists in time to make her small body become airborne. With the sound of something cracking and collapsing beneath her, she knew she’d landed at least partially on the coffee table.

Despite the pain that shot through her with even the smallest movement, the cold stare she was receiving from the skeleton was enough to make get back up, her head hung low as her eyes began to water up. Not wanting to show him this weaker, more vulnerable side of herself, she darted up the stairs, her feet padding across the slightly creaky wooden floor for only a brief moment. She then took refuge in the upstairs bathroom, slamming the door shut behind herself and flipping the latch, locking out the world. Trying to force down the very minute amount of guilt that began to bubble up within him, Sans let out an annoyed huff and glanced at the now completely busted coffee table. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining that to Papyrus later.

~~~

What seemed like a century had passed before the youngest of the two skeletons finally returned home, the sight of the smashed coffee table still lying on the floor enough to induce a sense of dread within him. Normally when he came home, his elder brother would greet him, or at the very least, be lazing about on the couch and offer him a half hearted wave that was usually followed by some sort of pun or terrible joke.

But no. Nothing. Sans was nowhere in sight, and neither was Adrienne. This only made Papyrus’ concern grow; he hoped beyond all hope that his brother hadn’t done anything to her.

The tall skeleton let out a soft sigh and crossed the living room. The exhaustion from the long day began to set in as he ascended the stairs, eager to take a shower and change into something more comfortable. He loved his battle body immensely, but sometimes his sore, tired bones made the item feel as though it weighed a thousand pounds. He wished he could simply change his clothes and climb into bed so he could go to sleep, but life wasn’t that simple for him; before he was allowed to relax, he needed to shower and make dinner for his brother and Adrienne, then the teen was to help him clean up the dishes once the three of them had finished eating. After all that, he was to take Adrienne to the backyard to test prototypes for new puzzles and traps. She was kind enough to help him make sure they worked correctly, so he was always vigilant, always watching to make sure she was never injured on any of them. Aside from being a puzzle and trap tester, his rather small human friend also delighted in helping him think of new puzzles, and she even designed some of her own. She seemed to enjoy partaking in games of pretend when they messed around with the action figures he’d collected over the years, and when Sans wasn’t around or flat out refused to do it, she didn’t mind reading to him before he fell asleep each night, either. They’d grown very close, and he cared for her almost as much as he cared for Sans. It was for all those reasons why he promised to protect her; he had to protect her. He’d become used to her presence and had grown to appreciate their friendship very much, and having her as his friend helped fill the void in his soul that was once occupied by the queen herself. He still considered Undyne a close friend, but the way she spoke and treated him now was… Execrable.

As he twisted the knob and nudged his bedroom door open, the scent of blood hit his nasal cavity and he felt his body tense. Gently pushing the door shut behind his massive frame once he’d crossed the threshold, he made his way to his desk and flicked on the small lamp that resided on its far left corner, the light illuminating his multitude of action figures and an old map.

The faint sound of movement caught Papyrus’ attention and he looked down toward the source, almost unable to believe what he was seeing; the human was in his bed, lying on her side and wrapped in his old blankets. An open first aid kit sat on the floor next to the bed, and cloth bandages were wrapped loosely around her slender neck. Her hair, which was once nearly long enough to reach her lower back, was now much shorter; it looked as though it was cut hastily by some sort of blade. While her arms were mostly concealed by the blankets, he could see that her wrists had also been wrapped in bandages, a familiar crimson threatening to seep through the material. As she shifted again in her slumber, her shirt began to slip down her shoulder and revealed another large bandage, more crimson staining the fabric. His brow bones furrowed as he took note of how the crimson staining it formed a half circle… as if the injury was because of a bite.

In his consternation, Papyrus reached out, a single gloved hand settling on her uninjured shoulder. He leaned down, his spine already aching from the awkward angle as he lowered his voice and did his best not to startle her, “Human?... Adrienne? Please, I Need You To Wake Up. Come On Human, Please.” As she slowly began to stir, he fought the urge to scoop her up into his arms and shelter her from whatever had left her in her current condition.

As her eyes fluttered open and she took notice of the skeleton towering over her, all traces of exhaustion vanished and her eyes widened, a sound of surprise slipping past her lips. In her momentary panic, she’d sat up and tried to move away from him, her chest heaving as she drew in one deep breath after another. Papyrus gently shushed her, offering her a weak, apologetic smile, “Hey, Hey, It’s Alright. It’s Just Me, Adrienne. I Didn’t Mean To Startle You, I Swear. I’m So Sorry For Scaring You.”

Registering who was with her, the teen released a deep sigh of relief. She gave Papyrus no time to prepare himself before she practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around whatever she could reach before clinging to his battle body. Though he was visibly caught off guard, he delicately encircled her with his arms, one hand finding her uninjured shoulder again before he lightly squeezed, his voice laced with concern, “Adrienne?... What’s Wrong? What Happened To You?”

The only response he received from the girl in his arms was a muffled sob and he frowned, moving his hand from her shoulder to her face. He used his index finger to tilt her head back, allowing him to see her tear stained face, and as her bottom lip twitched and another tear rolled down her cheek, he frowned; normally she was such a strong, upbeat person. To see her this way was heartbreaking.

The skeleton lowered his voice even further, reducing it to a whisper, “Adrienne, Please… Tell Me What Happened. I Want To Help You.” Her lip twitched again and she sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away with her sleeve, “I just… Papy… I just wanted to go outside... I just wanted some fresh air… I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Still frowning, Papyrus gently ran his fingers through her hair and tilted his head, his voice remaining low, “What Do You Mean?... Did Sans Do This To You?” Upon hearing the name of the older skeleton brother, Adrienne tightened her grip on Papyrus, her voice beginning to waver as more tears rolled down her face, gathering at her jaw and dripping down onto her shirt, “Papy… I was so stupid. I made him mad at me. I upset Sans.”

Papyrus’ frown deepened; he knew how his brother could be whenever he had one of his episodes, and never in a million years would he wish for anyone to become the recipient of Sans' delirium. The skeleton sighed as he gently stroked the teen’s hair, “It’ll Be Ok, I Promise. You May Stay Here Tonight If You’d Like, And I’ll Be Sure To Speak With Him About This. Do You Think You Could Tell Me Everything, Though? I Can’t Be Of Any Help To You If I Don’t Know All The Details.” With a heavy heart, she slowly nodded and looked up, meeting his gaze, “I… I went outside today... by myself. I went into town, and I went to Grillby’s. It smelled like food in there, and I was so hungry… I thought I’d find something to eat. I kept myself as covered as possible, but I was caught and got grabbed by Grillby,” she paused, visibly ashamed as she gestured to her neck, “…I got burned.”

The skeleton made a soft sound in understanding and nodded, silently asking her to continue, which she did, “Someone else grabbed my hair and I had to cut it to get away from them. Then when I opened the door and went to run outside, I ran face first into Sans. He told everyone there not to mess with me, that I wasn’t free game because I belonged to him. Then he marked me. Right there, with everyone watching. He was a little flirty afterward and he seemed happy enough, so I thought everything was ok, but when we got here, he… he had an episode.”

Papyrus didn’t know what to make of everything he’d just been told; on one hand, she suffered numerous injuries and nearly died, and on the other hand, she was marked by Sans.

Normally whenever a monster marked someone, it meant that they saw that person as their mate and that they wanted to claim them as their own. That they loved that person with every fiber of their body and soul. Being marked also served as a way to protect someone from other monsters, but there had been cases of a mark not being enough to guarantee the safety of a monster's mate.

Being marked was not only a big deal, but it was also something that every self respecting monster knew should be done in private. The fact that Sans marked her in the first place was absolutely astounding, but the fact that he had the absolute nerve to take something that was meant to be special, shared between mates and no one else, and turned it into some obscene gesture that he performed in front of a crowd, undoubtedly humiliating Adrienne in the process… It was unacceptable.

He needed to speak to Sans, and he needed to do it now.

Releasing a deep sigh, Papyrus lifted a hand to idly rub the back of his neck, “I See… I Cannot Apologize Enough On My Brother’s Behalf. I’ll See If I Can Get Anything Out Of Him That Would Explain Why He’d Behave This Way. Hopefully… Hopefully He Doesn’t Clam Up, Like He Seems To Always End Up Doing. Will You Be Alright Here While I’m Away? I Don’t Want To Leave You Alone If You’re Still Feeling A Little Too Overwhelmed And Freaked Out By Everything.” The teen sniffled, absentmindedly wiping her face with her sleeve again as she nodded, “Uh huh… I think so.” Catching the slight uncertainty in her voice, he offered her a reassuring smile, “I’ll Try To Be Back As Soon As Possible, Alright? How About You Pick Out Some Puzzles For Us To Work On When I Return? A Few Good Puzzles Always Help Me Feel Better Whenever I’m A Bit Rattled, So I’m Confident They’ll Do The Same For You, Too!” Adrienne couldn’t help the small smile that curled her lips upward at how eager he was to help her, and she nodded again, “Ok, Pap… that sounds good to me. When you get back, do you think maybe you could help me fix my bandages a little? Some of them are still too loose and I dunno if I missed any little spots anywhere.” Perking up at the request, Papyrus beamed, gently unwrapping his arms from around her and ruffling her hair, “Yes, Of Course! The Great Papyrus Would Be Happy To Assist You, Adrienne!” Letting go of the skeleton, Adrienne smiled up at him; he was such a sweet guy, and despite their circumstances, he was always so optimistic. He still maintained a sense of morality as well, unlike the other monsters. She honestly wasn’t sure what she’d do without him at times.

Reluctantly parting from his small human friend, Papyrus slipped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind himself. Once he was gone, Adrienne sighed, climbing out of his bed and making her way over to a shelf. As she looked over the various boxes and puzzle books, she came to the conclusion that it probably didn’t matter which one she chose; as long as it’d keep her and that goofball busy for a while, it was good enough for her. As she reached out to grab a thick puzzle book, she winced. Her free hand moved to gingerly touch the bandage on her shoulder; at the twinge of pain, her mind drifted to Sans. After earlier, she should’ve learned her lesson and given up on disobeying the very specific rules that her friends had established. She was a curious being by nature though, and she’d be damned if she had to go on without receiving any answers.

Her curiosity and desire to know why Sans would mark her grew even stronger. She grabbed the puzzle book and dropped it on Papyrus’ bed, before peeking out of the room and glancing around the hall. Against her better judgement, she began to search for the pair of brothers. The most logical place Sans would be at this time of night would be in his room, or downstairs on the living room sofa. If those two places weren’t it, then she’d have to check the basement. No biggie. As she tiptoed down the empty hallway, she briefly paused to look over the railing and down into the living room, and found that Sans was nowhere in sight. On her way toward the stairs, she caught the sound of a mumbled conversation through Sans’ closed bedroom door and froze; she knew better than to go into his room without knocking, so she opted to stay in the hall and eavesdrop, rather than barge in on whatever he and Papyrus were talking about at the moment.

Inside the closed off room, Sans rolled his eye light, trying his best to brush off the lecture he was receiving from his younger brother. It’s not like he did anything to Papyrus personally, so he didn’t understand why Pap thought he needed to get involved. Not in the slightest. Completely exasperated with Sans’ stubbornness, Papyrus pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh, “Sans, Honestly. You Didn’t Have To Take It That Far. The Poor Girl’s Probably Traumatized And Too Ashamed To Ever Want To Leave The House Again.” Sans grunted, flopping down onto his back on his old, worn mattress, “Remind me how that’s a bad thing again, Pap. So far, I’m not seein’ any problems with it.” The taller of the two inhaled deeply, briefly closing his sockets as he tried to gather his thoughts, “Sans… Brother. I Love You, But What You Did Today Wasn’t Ok. I Don’t Understand Why You’re So Calm And Casual About It.” Gaining a very clearly agitated edge, Sans practically growled, “It’s really fuckin’ simple. If she’s too ashamed ta leave the house, then good! At least she’ll stay put then and save me a lot a’ trouble in the future.”

Not even remotely threatened by his older brother’s tone of voice, Papyrus snapped, suddenly shouting, “LANGUAGE, SANS. MAYBE SHE DIDN’T LISTEN TO YOU, BUT THAT’S NO REASON TO TREAT HER THIS WAY. IT IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT A VALID REASON TO GO AND PUBLICLY HUMILIATE HER, THEN COME HOME AND SCARE HER HALF TO DEATH, EITHER. YOU ALSO BROKE THE COFFEE TABLE, SANS. SOME OF US HAVE TO PAY FOR THINGS LIKE THAT, YOU KNOW!”

From her spot in the hallway, Adrienne flinched, her eyes widening. Not once had she ever seen Papyrus so upset that he shouted like this. This was a whole new experience, and she could already say that it was both surprising and terrifying all at once.

The shorter of the two let out an exaggerated groan, beginning to absentmindedly tap the tips of his phalanges on the bed as he stared up at the ceiling, “As far as the table goes, I’ll replace the damn thing if it really means that much ta you. What am I supposed ta do about the kid though? If I really scared her as much as you’re sayin’ I did, then she won’t want anythin’ ta do with me. It’s not like I can just walk up to her and go, ‘hey, you know that day when I got mad at you? I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.’” Papyrus hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Well… A Sincere Apology Is Only Half Of What I Think You Owe Her.” “Yeah? And what’s the other half?” “To Be Completely Blunt About It, She Knows What It Means To Be Marked.”

The older skeleton brother nearly choked on air, his cheekbones dusting a soft shade of blue, “What the hell?… Ok, then… What about it? Everyone probably knows what it means.” “What I’m Saying Is That She Knows Monsters Wouldn’t Mark Anyone Unless That Person Was Tremendously Important To Them, And Unless They Saw Them As Their Mate. Not Only Is There That, But She Told Me That You Were Somewhat Flirtatious Toward Her After The Incident Today At Grillby’s. You’re Sending Some Incredibly Mixed Signals, Sans. She More Than Likely Was Under The Impression That You Have Some Very Strong Feelings For Her, But Then You Came Home And Basically Told Her To Get Lost Before Throwing Her At The Coffee Table. She Has No Idea Where She Stands Right Now. The Other Half Of What You Need To Do Is Be Honest With Her. Tell Her If You Feel Something For Her, Or Tell Her If You Don’t. Just Make It Clear To Her So She Knows What She Is To You.”

Bolting upright into a sitting position, Sans stared up at his younger brother in disbelief, “So you’re suggestin’ that I go confess my love ta her or somethin’? Is that what you’re tryna tell me right now, Papyrus?” “If You Love Her, Then Yes, That Is Exactly What I’m Trying To Tell You.” Pressing his index and middle finger to one of his temples, the older of the two narrowed his sockets, grumbling under his breath, “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me… this is so stupid…” Taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Sans, Papyrus arched a brow bone and tilted his head, “Language, Brother… All Of This Might Seem Stupid To You, Maybe, But It’s A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Addressed. If You Really See Her As Your Mate, She Needs To Know. And Hey, It’s Alright To Feel Embarrassed About This Sort Of Thing. It’s Completely Natural. For Starters, Maybe You Could Try To Help Me Better Understand Your Reasons For Marking Her? I’m All Ears! In A... Manner Of Speaking.”

Sans snuck an uncertain glance up at him and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to cover both eyes with his hands, “...Don’t make me talk about this right now, Pap. Please. I can’t do it. I just can’t, what if I-” Papyrus was quick to wrap his arms around his older brother, lightly squeezing his shoulder, “Sans, No. Stop. You’re Overthinking Again. Take A Deep Breath And Try To Relax. It’s Just Me Here, And If You Preferred That I Don’t Tell Her What You Say, Then I Won’t. You Have My Word. Just Trust Me… That’s All I’m Asking Of You Right Now. Please, Just Trust Me.”

#writing #tw angst #tw mild violence #tw humiliation #oc insert #undertale #undertale au #horrortale #horrortale au #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #horror sans #axe sans #crooks papyrus

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missmorosis · 4 years ago

Text

Jealous

anonymous asked:

I’m BEGGING for a hc where zuko and sokka like the reader and get jealous of one another. Plot can be anything! :)))

anonymous asked:

oomgomg Hii u replied to me earlier 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 LOVE THAT YOU LOVE SOKKA!!! I love zuko too but sokka needs more appreciation imo.

Would u ever write an zuko and sokka x reader or oc where they both like the same person? Because I find myself conflicted between who I like more because they’re great for totally different reasons! Idkk but anyways looking forward to reading more of ur work!! And happy early valentines dayyyy 💕💕💕💕💕

please this prompt makes my true beauty heart go 📈📈📈

ALSO THE TWO OF YOU BASICALLY HAD THE SAME REQUEST LSAKDJS

enjoyyy <33 THIS MAKES NO SENSE IM SORRY

Pairings: Sokka x Reader x Zuko

Warnings: fainting and sickness (sighh yes yes i wrote another sickfic IM OBSESSED) & it may be the worst thing ive ever written-

Summary: a sick y/n is caught up in a love triangle... which boy is better?

Word count: 1.4k :)

The doorbell rang, and Y/N rushed to answer it. She opened the door to reveal a smiling Sokka. He was your best friend, so he normally showed up unannounced once in a while.

"Hey, Y/N!" he said.

"Hi, Sokka! What brings you here?"

"Knowing you, you probably haven't had dinner yet?" She nodded with a laugh. "Wanna get something to eat?"

It was past dinnertime, and she still wasn't hungry... In fact, the thought of food made her nauseous. Y/N nodded anyways, and Sokka smiled, getting his car keys out of his pocket.

Driving past the streets, the two blasted music out of the car's speakers, and Sokka sang along to all of the pop songs on the radio. Y/N laughed at the silly expression Sokka had on his face, even though the music was way too loud; it was honestly giving her a headache, but it was okay. She looked out the window to see Zuko, another close friend, heading out of the Jasmine Dragon. He must've just finished work...

"Oh, it's Zuko!" she chirped, giving him a wave. Sokka said nothing, his singing quieting down to silence, but he pulled over anyways to say hi. He parked his car, and the two hopped out.

“Y/N!” Zuko ran over with a huge grin on his face, waving his hand as a greeting. “Nice to see you again! Oh... hi Sokka.” Zuko’s cheerful smile slowly morphed into one of distaste when he noticed that she had been with Sokka.

“Hey, Zuko,” Sokka acknowledged. Y/N turned to see that Sokka’s face also fell when his eyes met Zuko’s. Sokka slung an unnecessary protective arm over her shoulders, and Y/N cleared her throat to clear up the growing tension. Shaking Sokka’s arm off, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Is it cold out here or is it just me?" Y/N blurted, causing Zuko and Sokka to look at each other worriedly. Sokka pulled off his jacket to throw it onto her. He zipped it up, and met her eyes.

"It's not cold at all... you feeling okay?" Y/N nodded slowly, signaling that she was okay, so Zuko and Sokka dropped the subject. She could have sworn it was chilly out.

"Anyways," Sokka continued, heading into his car, "wanna go grab dinner together or something?” The other two nodded, also following Sokka into the car. Y/N hopped into the passenger seat, and Zuko was stuck in the back seats. She could tell he wasn’t happy with her sitting next to Sokka, but she ignored it. They were just being plain childish, and it was giving her a headache.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sokka started. “I went to-”

"Sokka, go left," Zuko interuppted. Sokka sighed and turned the wheel, following through with Zuko’s command.

As the car turned, it pushed Y/N to the side of the car, forcing her to lean on the car door. Deciding not to get up, she nuzzled closer to the car window, her warm breath fogging it up. She blinked, trying to stop the growing sleepiness clouding her head.

Y/N heard Sokka ramble on about his day in the background, and her eyes closed for a second... just a second. She was just so... exhausted...

"Hey... Y/N? Are you asleep?" Sokka's voice asked softly. He poked her side, making her slightly stir awake. She tried to lift her heavy eyelids. Wow, she felt so sluggish.

"What, is Sokka boring?" Zuko laughed, as Sokka gasped, offended. "I should have been the one driving next to her."

"Y/NNN- how could you fall asleep in the middle of my story?" Sokka shook Y/N awake with his free arm. "Come on, you can't leave me with Zuko."

"Hmm?" Y/N hummed quietly, letting them know she was awake. Her voice was raspy; she had a sore throat, but the boys seemed to wave it off as a symptom of sleepiness.

"Am I too boring for you?" Sokka asked.

"No, of course no-"

"So you're saying you'd be with Sokka rather than me?" Zuko accused.

"N-no-"

"So you'd rather be with Zuko?"

"What? You guys are arguing for no reason," she mumbled, but the two boys ignored her.

"Of course she'd rather be with me; she's just too nice to say that to your face," Sokka argued, his voice increasing in volume.

"No, then why would she fall asleep while you were talking? You're boring." Zuko's voice was also loud.

"Please stop," Y/N whispered, rubbing her temples, and this gesture didn’t go unnoticed. Sokka and Zuko froze at once, watching her with concern.

"You have a headache? Are you sick?" Sokka asked immediately. Y/N sighed and nodded.

"Is... that why you fell asleep- because you were sick?" Zuko added, and Y/N nodded again weakly, and sighed. Sokka reached out next to him and put his hand on her forehead.

"Y/N, you're burning up..." Sokka gasped.

"Let me see," Zuko mumbled, placing his hand on her forehead. He sighed. "Y/N, you feel really warm."

"I'm so sorry for waking you up- it would have been better for you to stay asleep," Sokka apologized.

"No, no. It's my fault." She shivered, pulling Sokka's jacket tighter. “If I knew I was sick, I shouldn’t have come with you guys.”

"Here, have my jacket, too." Zuko wrapped his jacket over her as well, draping it over her shoulders.

"She doesn't need more than one, Zuko," Sokka scoffed quietly. "Anyways, we can go home if you'd like?"

"Oh, no, don't worry about me! We can go get dinner or something, it's just a headache. It'll go away," she reassured them.

"I don't know..." Zuko said. "Maybe we can get something to eat at your house?" Sokka turned around, heading back towards Y/N's home.

"I agree, you need rest." Sokka looked at her in the mirror. "Sorry to break it to ya, but you don't look so good."

"Okay... if that's alright..." she said, and Sokka smiled.

Everyone arrived at Y/N's house, and Zuko helped you out.

"Shall we?" he asked, gently grabbing your hand.

"C'mon, Y/N," Sokka said, glaring at Zuko. He grabbed your other hand, and pulled you along.

"Y/N," Zuko muttered.

"Zuko, let go of her," Sokka said, warningly.

"Who do you think I am? I don't have to listen to you," Zuko snapped back.

"You guys are driving me insane, can't you both just shut up and get along?" Her voice now matched theirs in volume, and the two stopped arguing, looking apologetic.

Boy, were you lightheaded all of a sudden. She staggered on her feet, and she buried her face in her hands. Not now...

"What's wrong?" Sokka's voice immediately asked.

"Are... are we scaring you? We promise it's not going to get too serious..." Zuko sounded concerned. She could feel both of the boys' arms hovering around her body, trying to protect her, catch her if she fell, or give her reassurance.

"No, no..." she breathed. "I'm.. fine..." With that, she promptly passed out.

Both boys rushed to be the one who caught Y/N. Zuko scooped her up into his arms, and he carried her into her room, leaving Sokka alone.

Zuko gently laid her down onto her bed, pulling the blanket over her. With a swift kiss that he was tempted to do all evening, he got up and headed out the door.

"Well..." he said, glancing at Sokka. The atmosphere was now awkward, and neither boy was going to leave for a while...

Y/N woke up, and judging from her headache and how warm she felt, she wasn't any better. Groaning, she got out of bed, expecting to be alone, but she was wrong.

She opened her eyes to see two boys asleep on the couch. They had stayed...

Medicine was laid out for her on the counter, and she gladly took it.

"Y/N?" Zuko's voice croaked, making her jump.

"Oh, hey... I wasn't expecting you two to stay..." she said, and he rolled his eyes.

"Of course we stayed... you feeling better?" Concern was written all over his face.

"I still feel like trash..." she answered truthfully.

"Maybe I can kiss it better," Sokka said with a small, playful smile, now awake as well, and she laughed.

"Anyways, thank you both..." She gave a quick kiss on both of their foreheads, making both of them blush. "Now, get some rest at home... I'll be fine."

"No way, I'm staying," both said at the same time. Y/N sighed; there was no way of getting rid of them, and she loved them for that.

"Do you need anything?" Sokka asked, getting up to get her some water.

"Nah, I'm alright... we can watch a movie, though?" She flopped onto the couch, in between the two boys. She turned on the classic Meet the Robinsons and laid back.

Both boys rested their heads on her shoulders, and she laughed.

"You two are idiots, you're going to get sick." They shrugged, and she smiled.

LMAOBDJJEEK OKAY WHOO IM TIRED BUT I WANTED TO GET SOMETHING OUT

this is totally unedited too IM SORRY

taglist (send an ask to get added!) @urmomoness @zuko-is-the-sun @busyforkuvira @appa-gaangnam-style @xxspqcebunsxx @akiris @welovediaaxx @ray-ofmoonlight @sokkaandzukosimp @u-4iia @sunnimochix @kaylove12

Zuko taglist: @duh-dobrik

#zuko x reader #sokka x reader #zuko x you #sokka x you #atla #atla fluff #atla sickfic #sokka sickfic #zuko sickfic #zuko fluff #sokka fluff #atla x reader #atla x you #atla x y/n #sokka x y/n #zuko x y/n #sokka comfort #zuko comfort

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 3 years ago

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I’m paying back some love again. And this time I’m writing for @succulentsunrise I wanted to give Tani and Mereo a cute little moment... So I did a thing. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Mereoleona x Tani (OC; not mine but Sun’s)

Genre: fluff

Words: 1586

“Come and get it”

The Castle gates. Tani wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to walking through them. Time had passed through the point where she had to explain herself to the stand-on guards. They didn’t bother with the questions anymore. Questions such as ‘who are you?’ and ‘what is your business here?’, because they knew. But still, she couldn’t say that she felt comfortable with just strolling in. So, somehow it had ended up being her walking up to them, slowing down her steps, greeting them, and intending to stop, but they’d just shrug and let her pass.

It was bad protocol. If someone was masquerading as her, then they wouldn’t be able to tell without questioning her. But then again, they didn’t question any of the members of the Royal families either. So, it might’ve been bad protocol, but she could understand why they didn’t question everyone.

Her body still tensed as she walked past the tall gates, trying to reach up to the skies. Not quite as hard as the walls of the Capitol tried, but they tried nonetheless. The doors closed behind herself with a heavy, dragging sound, shutting out the hustle and bustle of the city.

She couldn’t help but be amazed by how peaceful it could be, just on the other side of the gate. It really was like entering a whole new world, right there, in the middle of everything that was known to her. In the middle of the city, she had grown to know, and in a garden where plants grew, plants that she could name if need be.

A frown passed her as she walked past a flowerbed with peach-coloured roses. You need more water, she thought to herself, concluding to herself that the soil of the bed itself was perhaps too dry for roses to flourish. They’d survive, but they didn’t flourish.

She sighed, feeling an urge tugging in her, an urge to find some water. Perhaps a well? There had to be a well nearby, right? How else were they upkeeping something like this in the middle of the city? It was either that, or then she could perhaps use her magic to offer some aid to the poor helpless flowers. Though the traditional methods, of giving nutrients and water, would be far more effective in the long run.

Hmm… Now if there’s a well, wher-

There was a crash to her left, sounding like it came from outside. There was a smell of something burning. A sound of yelling.

Tani had already come accustomed to it, to an extent. Because those were clear indicators of a sibling scuffle. At least for the siblings of a certain family. A smirk rose to her lips as she shook her head, guessing that this argument too was probably on something unimportant. Like most sibling scuffles.

But. Just as with the gates, she wasn’t yet quite ready to brush it off. The shadow of an uneasy feeling in her stomach still lingered. The tension, and apprehension of ‘but what if’, was still far too prominent for her to simply ignore it. Thus, the roses would have to wait.

But as she was approaching the corner of the castle, or one of the many corners of it, she felt the approach of roaring, flaming mana that she knew all too well. And it wasn’t long until Mereo emerged from behind the corner.

“Rough fight?” Tani inquired, feeling that she already knew the answer.

“Hardly,” Mereo scoffed.

Yup. Sounds about right.

“That fool is just running his mouth again,” she scoffed to herself. “As usual. How is it that he can be moderately functional at work, and such an imbecile outside of it?”

“I wouldn’t really call him ‘moderately functioning’ as a captain,” Tani noted, receiving a quirked eyebrow from Mereo.

But. In the end the vermillion haired lioness just crossed her arms, and scoffed again. And Tani couldn’t help but think that the sight before her was rather adorable. Though ‘adorable’ wouldn’t be a word many people would use to describe Mereo, but it was one that she did. For what other word could be used to describe the pout on her face, the way she crossed her arms, and the way her canine almost peaked out.

Tani let out a faint chuckle, earning an almost glare from Mereo, but they both knew how Mereo felt about her brothers. They both knew how Mereo would be the first to call them nothing but a pair of fools in crimson capes. She’d be the first to throw them out of the battle arena for being weak. She’d be the first to grab them by the head and drag them along. She’d be the first to yell at them about how they needed to be even stronger than they were.

After all, she couldn’t be there for them all the time. Her baby brothers would need to learn to walk on their own two feet. And though they, at times, irritated her to no end, they were her brothers, and she loved them. She’d be caught dead before admitting it out loud. But they both, Tani and her herself, knew just how she felt. And she guessed that her brothers knew it too. Perhaps didn’t think about it too much, but knew it nonetheless.

And it was only that very reason, of knowing, that Tani was able to get away with it so easily. Well, that and the fact that Mereo loved her too. Another thing that was difficult for Mereo to voice. But she was the type of a person, who’s ‘I love yous’ were in the way she smiled to her, the way she held her in her embrace, and the way she spoke about mundane topics with a soft undertone to her; an undertone most would think that Mereo would be physically unable to utter.

But that tone was a secret, a divine revelation that was beheld only by Tani herself. The knowledge of how the fierce, uncrowned, undefeated lioness could purr. And oh, that purr… It was warm and gentle, painted with nothing but the softest shades of her very soul. The tender tone, to which, as with most things with her, you’d only get to if you were ready to dig through all the rough, rugged and sharp edges of her. But after all the battle was said and done, you’d get to lay yourself onto a bed of fire lilies and watch the fireflies floating by, listening to the soft melody of her voice, the way a queen would hum with her heartstrings.

“How about we go out for a couple of drinks today? To get your mind off of it,” Tani suggested with a passing grin, moving on from the topic.

“You make it sound like I’d be upset,” Mereo shrugged.

There you go, putting on a tough act… Tani thought to herself, more amused than anything about the way the woman, made out of fire and flames, resembled more a pouting toddler than anything else. To her at least. Though many would have thought her to be insane for even considering contesting the eldest of the Vermillions.

“But I like the idea,” she agreed, giving Tani a soft smile.

The brunette replied with a smile of her own, one that resembled a grin. “It’ll be like old times,” she teased.

“Oh? You’re going to make me arm wrestle for my drinks again?”

“Unless you’re scared of course,” Tani smirked, making Mereo laugh.

“You’re getting bold,” she commented before wrapping her arm around Tani’s waist and pulling her closer. “Good,” she continued with a hushed tone that resembled a shadow of a growl.

Tani would never get tired of hearing that sound, that tone, which made her stomach twist in the best possible way as her heart began to race. She’d never get enough of the way the swirl of the butterflies in her, both, made her stomach twist and made her feel lighter than a moment ago. She would never get enough of the way Mereo’s lips felt against her own. She’d never get tired of the determined, hungry kisses that would always leave her out of breath and wishing for more.

Not this time, or any of the times that would follow.

Their mouths separated for a moment, allowing them both to draw air into their lungs. And it was just as their lips separated that they tugged up into a smile, one that was full of the warmth of a fire place on a cold winter night, wrapped in blankets and served with hot cocoa.

“You look like you want another,” Mereo taunted with a grin, wearing that flicker of fire in her eyes that made Tani smirk.

“And what if I do?”

Mereo chuckled, pulling her even closer than a moment ago. “Then come and get it,” she grinned.

Tani’s smirk grew wider as she leaned closer, pressing her mouth against Mereo’s again. She slipped her tongue into her mouth, fighting for dominance. One that she wouldn’t win, but she tried. And she had to admit, that the battle was rather fun.

It was into that kiss, that contest of their tongues in the space that connected their mouths, that she lost herself in. For the time being at least. And it was the best kind of lost that there was.

#black clover fanfiction #mereoleona x tani #oc x canon

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.23}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

This one hour turned out to be way longer than the previous ones together. Admittedly, Robin did enjoy the youthful silliness of her friends, but for the most part she could only listen and offer her ever-too-grown-up take on matters on the few occasions when she was asked for her opinion. It was fun though, a bit like spending time with younger siblings. Not that Robin knew much about that, and when she dared to voice the thought, Simon and Michael –who had grown up with two and three little siblings respectively– only laughed in her face. Oh well, just fun it was then, but perhaps not like siblings after all. Just a group of unlikely friends.

At the end of the given hour, Robin wished her little group a good rest of the night and told them to meet her in the entrance hall half an hour past midnight. Before either of the confused people could ask about her enigmatic and sudden statement, Snape came to her rescue just as planned. He didn't say a word when he held his hand out to her, and she didn't say a word in return when she took it and let him pull her up to her feet. It was all in the eyes, in the words that didn't need to be spoken to be understood. The last Robin heard of her friends while Snape led her off towards the dancefloor was Cas saying something along the lines of 'and that's how you ask a girl to dance!' to the rest of the group. She couldn't help but silently smirk to herself in agreement.

The dance that followed was as much a delight as the previous one had been, as every single one of their dances had been, and once it ended all too soon as ever, neither of them could bear to stop just yet. So they did what most couples did, they stayed, and they danced to the next three pieces of song the musicians gifted them with as well. It left Robin quite breathless, but smiling more widely than she probably ever had in public. Who cares… she was just 'that insane girl', after all. This was the last ball she would be here for, and perhaps also the last time she got to dance with Snape. Even though she very much hoped that the latter wasn't truly the case.

When they finally decided that it had been quite enough exercise for the moment, a decision majorly influenced by the change in musical tone from sophisticated to what Robin graciously called 'jolly', they made their way off the dancefloor with slightly heaving chests and in purest contentment. That was, until no other than Damion Morgan stepped into their way, as if he had sensed that Robin's night was going too well. And he obviously had every intention to change that now. Not only did his eyes rake up and down Robin's form with an almost hungry look, but with an equal amount of scarily sweet smiles plastered onto his lips as well.

"Go on now, don't be shy, darling. Just ask me out." He finally spoke up with one of his flashiest grins, and his eyes locked with Robin's as he got way too close to her for anyone's comfort.

"Alright. Would you be so kind to get out of my sight?" Robin returned an exaggeratedly sweet smile that was dripping with sarcasm, and she was only glad that, hidden away under the billowing sleeves or her dress, Snape was still holding onto her hand.

"Ah, always sporting such a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind... that's how you seduce me, dear." Morgan chuckled, a brightly ringing sound that gave Robin chills of the uncomfortable kind. How could the man be so ridiculously positive, clear as crystal and bright as the sun, while yet he was the scariest person she had ever known to exist?

"Your advances are shameful at best, Damion, if not outright pathetic." Snape replied in a condescending and cold drawl, and his words were more in line with Robin's thoughts than anything she could have worded herself.

Morgan's head snapped around, and he glared at Snape with sharp shards of ice in his eyes. "Oh, and you think you are doing so much better than that? Is that why she hasn't even noticed how badly you are pining for her?"

Now Snape's eyes narrowed at the man in front of them in an unspoken threat as well. "You haven't the slightest idea what you are speaking of."

"Actually I know very well what I'm speaking of, Severus." Morgan quipped in radiant imagined superiority. "As it is, I also happen to know that you are absolutely right in your assessment of the circumstances; you really are entirely out of your league."

Robin didn't waste time thinking about the lunatic's words of hostility and instead caught his attention by speaking up calmly and with the subtlest touch of mocking sweetness. "If we are so far below you, then perhaps we shouldn't bother you any longer with our lowliness. It must be quite painful for you to dwell in such poor company, and we wouldn't want to hurt you now, would we?"

With that, Robin simply turned to leave without waiting for an answer, and she didn't even have to pull Snape along with her, for he mirrored her movement precisely in an instant. They got exactly two steps further down the hall before Morgan caught Robin by her free arm once again. His grip, as ever, more demand than inquiry.

"Dance with me." He said, without smiles, without brightness, and certainly without room for refusal.

"No." Was what Robin replied nonetheless, and this finally brought a new smile to Morgan's lips, a different one. A smile that made Robin's blood freeze over.

"That wasn't a question, darling. Dance with me, or I will see to it that you won't live to deny me again."

Robin's guarded expression kept her jaw from dropping and her eyes from growing wide, but the sheer panic that spread inside her mind and body still must've found a way to the surface. Her eyes moved from Morgan to Snape, in a silent plea for him to do something, anything, but going by his own expression, it was either killing Morgan right on the spot or letting things unfold. Robin couldn't blame him for having a similar reaction as she had herself, there was little else to do about such a display of dramaticism and insanity.

Gulping down the lump in her throat, Robin let go of Snape's hand and took the one Morgan was offering instead, even though every single cell in her body screamed in protest. As ridiculous as the threat was, she didn't doubt Morgan anymore. The lengths to which he would go to see her suffer still lay in darkness ahead of her, and she was more than reasonably reluctant to shed any light onto them now. So she let the man lead her back to the dancefloor, much like last year, while she was still aware of and very much thankful for Snape's eyes lingering on her. He wouldn't let Morgan harm her if he could prevent it, she knew that. And Snape's serious concern worried her quite a bit more than the actual prospect of getting injured. But no time to think about it now. The music started, and Morgan swirled her through the room alongside the oblivious students, professors and guests.

"You are hurting me." She finally spoke up in a quiet hiss, when his fingers dug uncomfortably into the skin of her back even through the layers of thick black fabric.

"Did it ever occur to you that you are hurting me, too?" He sighed in return, as if speaking to a child reluctant to understand. "With all those edges and corners of your wild personality… You make it ridiculously hard for me to put my mark on you. Perhaps, a little pain shall be the way to tame you after all."

A mere second later, when he moved his hand across her back oh so subtly, a sharp pain, a stinging and burning followed in the wake of his fingers at once, and Robin gasped before biting her lip to refrain from crying out. How the actual hell had he done that?! The pain dimmed down quickly enough, and nobody was paying them much attention, so it can't have been anything too serious, right? Right?! Robin released a shivering breath, then glared up at her dance partner in utmost hostility.

"If you think you can break me like some fragile plaything, you are utterly mistaken." She hissed, but it only served to make the man above her smirk. Robin wanted to slap that expression off his face, but all she could do was glare at him even more threateningly. "I can see way beneath those smiles and charming words. When I look at you, I see nothing but a monster."

"When I look at you, I see a beautiful masquerade covering the hollow darkness of inevitable death. Because that's ultimately what you are, and what you are ever going to be. A broken creature of ash and dust, and a mirror of shattered vanity." His reply came quickly and in a striking factuality, a seriousness that was unlikely for him. It left Robin short of an adequate answer for a moment, while his words cut a little deeper than she would've liked. And yet, when he spoke on, his tone was filled with bitter amusement. "It's rather ironic, isn't it? To see you clinging so desperately onto the one man who is the very essence of brokenness. Tell me, are you trying to heal him or do you merely reap what is left in the ashes? I cannot tell from what I see. But I shouldn't be the one to judge... I too desire you despite your darkness."

"You are wrong. Again, as always." She huffed in spite. "I don't like him despite the way he is, but for that very reason. He might have been broken once, but he put his pieces back together in his own way, and that makes him more appealing than anyone who has never known the courage it takes to go on after you shatter. Or the strength it takes to be better than before."

"You really are quite pathetically in love, aren't you?" Morgan sighed, sounding condescending and indifferent in a way that made Robin wish she hadn't said anything at all. But this damned man just had a way of getting to her and making her speak against her better judgement. "Ironic that it had to be Severus you are so willing to suffer for. Say, would you die for him, little songbird? I bet you would, wouldn't you? As I said; Ironic."

"If I'm pathetic for loving, you are just loving to be pathetic. Ironic indeed." She scoffed, and he squeezed the hurting spot on her back in return, making her yelp under her breath. The sound made him smirk. Bloody bastard…

When the music came to an end and the people to a halt, Robin feared that Morgan would keep her right where she was for another dance. It was a bit after eleven at this point, and even if there was still some time until midnight, she was both exhausted and desperate to get away from the man who was keeping a strong hold of her even now that the dance had ended. But to her surprise, he started leading her off the dancefloor before she even had to voice a protest or question.

"I better return you to poor Severus before he gives in to the urge to murder me, huh? Merlin's beard, that man loves you more than is good for him." Morgan chuckled quietly, but Robin honestly didn't care for his words now as long as he left her alone as soon as possible. It didn't even matter that he had fallen victim to the same delusions as everyone else. So when Morgan finally released Robin from his grasp and even had the audacity to give her a little push towards Snape, there was no time for her wounded pride when she was just lucky to be escaping his presence in the first place. Only once Robin was safely tucked into Snape's side two seconds later, she finally felt like she could breathe again.

"Thank you for the dance, my dear. Your divine company is always my highest pleasure." Morgan gave Robin another of his signature smiles. "I'm looking forward to all that is yet to come." His words couldn't have been more enigmatic and unsettling, but at least he bowed slightly and then disappeared into the crowd. Just like last year.

Robin let out a long breath to regain her composure, then looked up at Snape right at her side. He was undoubtedly angry and concerned in equal measure, as always when it came to her interactions with Morgan, and thus she offered him a small smile of reassurance.

"I'm alright, don't worry. The idiot hurt my back, but it's less painful than any of the times he slammed me into a wall in class, so it's nothing new really. It's okay."

"I let him hurt you, it is not okay."

"Do we need to be having this conversation again?" Robin gave him a look that was both pleading and defeated. "There is nothing you could've done and we both know that. All we can do is to start looking more thoroughly into what his problem with me is after the break is over."

"You are most likely right about that. Obviously." Snape sighed, then placed a gentle hand on the small of her back with a questioning gaze down at her. "May I?"

"Certainly." The smile that came to her lips now was genuine, affectionate almost, and she didn't bother hiding it from him. They both could use some calm and comfort now. "Perhaps… we could get away from the crowds for a bit?"

"Certainly." He mirrored with a not-smirk, and Robin shook her head with a chuckle. He really had a way of cheering her up even in the worst of situations, and that was something nobody else had ever been able to do.

Without waiting for a better opportunity that wouldn't come anyway, they soon made their way through the hall while pushing through various groups of people who weren't accustomed to the unspoken rule that it was better to stay out of their way. Robin had never taken much notice of it before just now, actually, but she usually never had to squeeze through somewhere. People usually stepped out of her way quite willingly and let her pass without effort. The same way they did with Snape. In a way, now that people did stay standing in her path, she found herself equally amused and irritated by that fact. Perhaps being the insane girl everyone feared based on a reputation alone really wasn't all that bad after all.

They reached the entrance hall soon enough, and in an unspoken question and likewise answer, they decided against winter robes and for a heating charm instead. It wouldn't be toasty, that was for sure, but it could keep the cold away at least, even if that left the wind to live with. Now that the snow had been replaced by rain for the majority of the previous week, it wasn't as harsh outside as it had been half a month ago, and this they could very well feel when they stepped outside into the nightly courtyard side by side. With the charm wrapping around them, the temperature was almost truly comfortable here, but then again, there was no wind inside these walls, so that wasn't too much of a surprise.

It again went wordlessly that they sauntered through the arcades and to the other end of the open space, out into the night and away from the busyness of the castle at long last. Away from the people, away from Morgan. His words still sounded as a dull echo in Robin's mind, now that everything else was silent. Not all of his nonsense had lingered of course, just… that one thing he had said wouldn't stop nagging at her. What he saw when he looked at her. The hollow darkness of inevitable death. It probably was just his overly dramatic way of being hostile and threatening, but then again, perhaps what he saw was the same thing that made everyone else scared of her as well. And as all things inevitable, it drew closer and closer to the surface, where everyone could see. Maybe that's why her reputation had grown exponentially more sinister over the years… Maybe that's why Morgan's words threatened to suffocate her now. Because she really was just a hollow darkness to the people around her.

"Talk to me, Robin…" Snape's voice drew her out of her mind as it did so often these days. They were sauntering down the hill now, almost having reached the shore of the lake… and she hadn't even noticed. "You are getting lost again, and by the look on your face I can tell that it isn't a nice place you are vanishing into. Will you just tell me what is bothering you for once, or do I have to ask on?"

"It's… just something Morgan said." She sighed deeply, and tried for a half smile when she looked up at Snape. "I really should know better by now than to let him get to me like that every single time, huh?"

"He has a way of getting under people's skin regardless of how hard they try to resist. It happens to the best."

"To you?"

"Obviously."

Robin let out a small amused huff in reply, but then stopped in her saunter and turned to face Snape when he did the same. "Can I ask you something odd?"

"Don't you always?" The returned question was more encouragement than tease for once, and Robin honestly felt glad for that.

She knew she had to ask, but in the end she would also need the courage to bear the answer as well. Taking a deep breath, she kept her eyes fixed on his and finally brought up the courage to speak the words that had been threatening to break past her lips anyway. "When you look at me... what do you see?"

"Everything." His reply came in such a calm sincerity, such genuine and complete certainty that Robin forgot how to breathe for a moment. She even forgot why she had asked in the first place, with an answer that told her so much more than the question demanded. A shiver of sheer and utter delight ran over her skin; she couldn't remember how to speak with words. So all the questions and answers of the world lay in her gaze alone. She wanted to be everything to him more than she had ever wanted anything else.

"Why do you ask?" Snape finally inquired, just as calmly as before, and the fact that his previous answer obviously was just another given to him almost made Robin laugh despite the newly arising hope. Perhaps she wasn't a token of death to everyone… to the one person that mattered she obviously was quite a bit more than that. And wasn't that by far enough?

"Morgan said that all he sees in me is a beautiful masquerade that covers the hollow darkness of inevitable death." She finally sighed with a shrug, then sauntered on towards the shore with Snape following right by her side. "But then again he also said that the sharp edges of my personality make it difficult for him to put his mark on me, so I guess I shouldn't try to find truth where there is only insanity."

"A wise decision I wholeheartedly support." He replied, just when they left the muddy path behind and crossed over onto the pebbled edge of the lake that lay in front of them as a black mirror now, reflecting only the blanket of stars above their heads. A beautiful sight that made Robin sigh as much as Snape's question that came a mere second later. "Was there anything else he said that might be disconcerting?"

"Just the usual things he keeps saying to me from time to time… How much he hates that I 'desperately cling onto you', for example. Or that you love me too much." She said before her brain had the time to fully process how stupid of a move that was. Maybe it was the hope gaining the upper hand again… but the idea that perhaps she could be everything to him indeed was burning her up from the inside now. Her hope had turned into a wildfire.

"Dumbledore really should have Morgan gagged, if he already refuses to dispose of him entirely." Snape grumbled under his breath, and Robin's heart fell a little. That wasn't the reaction she hadn't technically allowed herself to hope for but had hoped for nonetheless. Of course it would upset him to hear these accusations… what had she been expecting? Ridiculous.

"Oh, you'd have to gag quite a few more people than him if it's just about these remarks." She finally replied with a sad chuckle, then with a silent sigh. "Too many people have been insinuating things like that recently. You know… about you and me. Us."

"Ah." His voice dropped down an octave, and the deep frown on his falling features was suddenly accompanied by a tinge of rising bitterness in his tone, a shadow of sincere sadness in his eyes. Then it was all apathy again before the fleeting emotions could be grasped. "I can see why that thought would be repelling to you."

And for once, encouraged by the shadowy ghosts of expressions she had seen on his face, Robin let her heart speak instead of her mind. "Actually, it just makes me wish quite desperately that it was true."

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magicalicefairy · 4 years ago

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𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕤 - ᛒᛖᛃᛟᚾᛞ᛫ᛗᛃᚦᛋ᛫ᚨᚾᛞ᛫ᚨᚷᛖᛋ

Chapter 1 “The Beginning”

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornsson x OC / Tyr x Persephone

Warnings: strong language

Word Count: 3.8k (sorry, not sorry)

Chapter 2 AO3 Wattpad

The floor I was sitting on was wet, cold, and slippery. The room was dark and I could barely see my surroundings. How long have I been down here? Two days? Curse this priest! Thinks I'm a witch just because I know how to take care of wounds and heal light illnesses by mixing a few herbs. “Witch!” He screamed and then locked me down here. Now I am waiting for my execution, which fortunately has not been approved yet. Apparently King Alfred had better things to do than sentence young women to death for mixing herbs. If I ever get out of here, by the gods, i will strangle this priest with my bare hands. But how i high are the chances that I would ever see daylight again? Was it the day I was brought to the scaffold? But I couldn't think any further, because my thoughts were disturbed by the ringing of the bells in the church above me.

I heard screams. What was going on here? I moved a little to slide closer to the dungeon door, but I couldn't get very far because iron chains were holding me to the wall. I heard hasty footsteps and trampling outside. Clinking noises, metal on metal. It was a fight! The soldiers of this abbey seemed to be fighting off a battle. Hopefully the attackers didn't come down here, because then they would surely give me a quick death, but before that the bandits would surely assault me. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor and the rustle of a bunch of keys. The priest! That bastard! What was he doing down here? Trying to hide? I heard nervous rustling at the door lock, hasty steps behind him and the roar of angry men. The next moment the door flew open, slammed against the wall with such force that it fell off the hinges and crashed onto the floor with a loud thump. The priest who held me prisoner flew through the door and a bearded northerner with an ax followed him. Blood dripped from the weapon and the silver seemed to light up the dark room. The north man pressed the priest against the wall.

"Where do you hide your treasures?" He said aggressively while holding the ax on his throat.

“You stupid pagan! You will burn in hell! ” He just screamed and wanted to insult him again, but the blood was already spurting from his throat and speckling the ground with red paint. The lifeless body fell to the ground like a sack of flour and lay there like an empty shell.

"That's what I wanted to do," I said, without even thinking about what was going to happen next. The north man noticed me for the first time and if I hadn't said anything, then I would probably have remained hidden in my dark corner.

"That would have been a bit difficult for you" He pointed with his bloody ax at my hands. These were still chained to the iron.

He took a few steps towards me and I had to admit that my heart was racing with fear.

"They have a big chest with treasures down here in the crypt," I quickly gushed out.

He just grunted something unintelligible and then he came closer to me. I pressed myself against the wall and watched every step oh him.

"Why are you locked up here?" He said to himself rather than to me. "You must be special" he knelt next to me and I could smell the blood that was all over his clothes.

"The priest" and I nodded my head to the sad piece of meat that lay lifeless on the floor next to us. "Thought I was a witch just because I know how to treat sick people and I mix herbs"

"I understand. You can heal wounds. So you are a kind of a healer? ”He asked, tilting his head. I hardly recognized him, but he seemed to have light eyes.

"Yeah, I think i am something like that." I replied, trying to sit up, not wanting to show my fear.

"I have a friend who needs help with a stab wound, can you treat something like that?" He turned the ax in his hand.

I paused for a moment and wondered if I could help him, maybe he'll let me live and I can go? Or he would kill me afterwards, but what choice did I have? To remain chained here while the bodies of at least 20 priests and two dozen soldiers rotten in the sun above. No, I had to take the chance and assure him of my help, that was the only way to get out of here alive.

I nodded and held out my hands to him. "If you have a solution, then I'll be happy to help." He grinned and showed me his silver ax. Was he really going to use it to break the chains? Is he insane? That’s going wrong. Never and eve-

I heard a loud clink and already felt the chains slip from my wrists. He did cut the iron with one precise blow. I rubbed my hands and got on my legs. Getting up quickly made me dizzy and i staggered a little.

"Are you okay?" The man held my arm to support me.

I just nodded. “Yes, I just got up too quickly and my legs are a bit shaky, but otherwise I'm fine.

"Good," he muttered and let go of me. "If you take care of my friend, you're free to leave" I nodded in agreement.

We went to the door and climbed the stairs. The light of the sun hit me like a blow. My eyes ached from the brightness, but what else should I expect?

I haven't seen the sunlight for two days and now I was exposed to it ruthlessly. Little by little, my vision improved and I saw the appearance of my Savior for the first time. He was a little taller than me. He had blond hair that he had tied in a braid and the sides were shaved. His clothes were covered in blood and he had a few splatters on his face. His blue eyes fascinated me, they were deep blue and reminded me of the waves on the sea, wild and untamed. He seemed to be staring at me too and I looked away.

"Follow me" and pointed to the massive wooden door at the end of the room. It led into the front yard of the abbey and when we got outside I inhaled fresh air for the first time in a long time. But there was not only the smell of fresh flowers in the air, no, there was also iron, blood, to be precise. And then I noticed that a few dozen corpses were spread out in the courtyard. This man's men had done a neat job. We went out of the garden, down the hill to the river. The huts of the priests and sisters burned and the smoke rose far into the sky. The fire could be seen several kilometers away. I heard the men before I saw them. They stood together in a group. The treasures of the abbey, gold and silver, which could certainly be sold or used well, passed through their hands. A man was sitting on a bench not far from them, his hand on his lower stomach. That had to be my Savior's friend that I was supposed to help.

"Eivor! There you are! ”His call sounded pained and his features cramped, but he tried to smile. The blond rescuer responded to his call. So his name was Eivor.

"Dag, I brought help with me" and he pointed at me.

The man named Dag looked me suspiciously.

"She's a healer, she can look at your wound," said Eivor, kneeling next to Dag.

“It's nothing, believe me. It's just a scratch. It'll be all right soon. ”But he was still holding the wound and it was definitely not just a scratch. The blood was on his clothes and on his hands. The wound seemed to be deep.

"That looks bad to me," I said to him and also knelt next to him. "I have to look at it, otherwise it could get worse."

"Is she one of the nuns here?" He looked at Eivor and raised an eyebrow.

Eivor was about to answer when I said: "No, as he had already said, I am a healer and not a sister."

He growled like a bear. Eivor assured him that I just wanted to help him and Dag agreed. He raised his hand and immediately blood came out of the wound. It was deep, but it had been stabbed clean. I should be able to treat his wound with a couple of bandages, but we weren't in the best situation for wound care. Materials for treating the wound were probably burning in the houses around us.

"We have to get him out of here, there are no clean cloths or clean water to treat the wound with," I said while looking at Eivor.

Eivor looked around and decided I was right.

"We have to get Dag out of here, let's go home!" Eivor roared through the crowd and pointed to two men who helped Dag up and took him to the river shore.

I wasn't sure what to do. How far was their home from here? How would it go on for me? And would they kill me after that? I had to take care of this man because I owed something to Eivor, he had taken me out of the dark dungeon and saved my life.. But Eivor didn't seem like a man who killed innocent women, since he got me out of there, he had been quite neutral, if not friendly, to me. I decided to follow them. Eivor walked by my side and we arrived at a large longship. The men helped Dag in and he sat down. Eivor stepped into the water and I followed him. The water was freezing and I got goose bumps. I pulled myself awkwardly into the boat and sat down next to Dag. I tore off a piece of my dress and folded it up.

“Here take it, press it on the wound. It will stop the bleeding temporarily. ”I held out the folded piece of cloth. He still looked at me suspiciously, but carefully slid his hand away from his wound. I immediately pressed it onto the open area, took his hand and pushed it onto the fabric.

"The wound looks bad, but I can manage it" I smiled at him and tried to give him some courage.

He just mumbled a little thank you and turned away.

I looked around and saw Eivor standing on the stern of the ship. The men took their places and hit the river bank with the huge rounds. We drove downhill and the abbey got smaller and smaller. By the gods, what exciting minutes those were.

"Are you scared?" I heard Eivor ask and he pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Well, you've just robbed an entire monastery of its soldiers and the treasures too. I was helpless and unarmed, and even with a weapon I would certainly not have been of great help. Of course I'm scared. I wonder what will happen after i helped Dag. ”I looked at Dag, who was watching me with a curious look. I'd prefer to get out of this alive. ”I look at Eivor seriously.

"You really think that after I got you out of there and you helped my friend, i'm going to kill you?" He seemed amused. "I could kill you on the way to the river or leave you in the dungeon"

He was right about that. He was still smiling at me. Did he find the whole thing funny?

"What's your name anyway?" He asked.

"Ella, my name is Ella" I replied.

"Ella? You're not from England, are you? "

"No, neither are you," and I showed my sarcastic smile.

He laughed and agreed with me. I let my gaze wander over the water. The river was dark and the water was clear. The drive wasn't long and I saw a village approaching in the distance, but it wasn't really a village. It was more like a bunch of tents and run-down huts. The boat docked at the dock and the men began to heave the chest and boxes out of the ship. I climbed out of the boat and followed Eivor into the village. In the center was a large oak, the branches of which hung heavily. She looked just beautiful. Behind it you could have a look at a very large longhouse. It seemed well preserved. I suspect the northerners hadn't been here long. There were a lot of different people here. Men worked in the harbor, women chased their children around. We passed a house where a tall man was working on a sword.

"Ahh Eivor, back again? I hope you found something nice, ”he laughed.

“Gunnar! Yes, we found a lot, you are welcome to take a look at the longship. Dag is injured, we'll take him up to the longhouse. Ella ”he pointed to me“ will take a look at the wound ”

Gunnar’s gaze wandered from Eivor to me and a smile formed. He seemed like a warm man to me. “Welcome Ella! Nice to meet you! "

"Nice to meet you too" I replied with a smile.

Eivor and I said goodbye to Gunnar and went to the longhouse. As soon as we entered it, I noticed the long tables and the benches. At the end of the hall on an elevation stood a single chair. It was adorned with furs and appeared to belong to the leader. Where was he? Would he tolerate me here? If not, could Eivor prevent that? How high was his position here so that he could change the mind of the leader? Again I was torn from my thoughts. Dag sat down on a bench and Eivor called me over to him.

"What do you need for the wound?" He asked.

"I need a bowl of clean water and clean cloths, please," I knelt next to Dag and took the provisional wound pad from him. It was not bleeding as badly as before, but I should quickly make an envelope.

Eivor ordered one of the men to fetch the required utensils. He apologized and disappeared into the room behind the throne.

Dag was breathing hard, probably because of his pain. After a short time the man appeared with the requested materials and I started my work. I cleaned his wound and made a poultice that I put on him. “So that should be enough for now, but I would need a few more herbs to cleanse the wound and take some of the pain away from you. You shouldn't try so hard now. "

"Oh, I'm fine," said Dag, trying to get up, obviously in pain. But he slumped back on the bench. "Okay, maybe not"

He looks up at me and I raised an eyebrow.

"I told you"

"Yes, yes, I know," I heard him say grimly. "Thanks"

I looked down at him and nodded. "With pleasure"

I heard footsteps behind me and saw Eivor approaching us, accompanied by another Northman. He was tall, illegally tall. He was almost two heads taller than me, had rust-red hair that, like Eivor, wore in a long braid. There was a tattoo on his forehead, as well as on his shaved sides. He had a beard that was neatly trimmed. His eyes were a beautiful light blue-gray. They had something like bright rain clouds. I don't know how tosay it, but this man knew how to an appearance. I knew right away that this man was in charge here.

"Dag, you don't look really good," he patted Dag gently on the shoulder.

“I'm fine Sigurd, just a small stab wound. But thanks to Ella, that will soon be a thing of the past. He whispered and looked first at Sigurd and then at me.

Sigurd followed his gaze and now noticed me for the first time. His gaze made me shiver. A smile played on his lips. “Yes, Eivor mentioned you. Got you out of the abbey. I am Sigurd, the Jarl of Ravensthorpe, ”he said. "Thanks for helping Dag"

So he was actually the leader. The Jarl. I knew it.

“Eivor saved my life. I owed him something. And my name is Ella. ”I explained. "But I still have to treat the wound with herbs."

"Where do we get them from?" Eivor asked. I could hardly avert my gaze from Sigurd. He just looked impressively handsome.

“I have some in my hut. But I don't know whether it is still there. After the thing with the priest. ”I said, looking at Eivor.

“Where is your hut located? Is it far from here? ”He asked.

I told Eivor that my hut is near Grantebridge in Grantebridgescir, but that the Danes had been evicted there.

"I suppose my house was ransacked, but it would be worth a look." I look from Eivor to Sigurd and he clapped his hands.

"Well, off to Grantebridgescir!" He said to the group.

Eivor seemed confused and said: “Are you coming with us? Isn't it better if you stay here? "

Sigurd shook his head. "The more the better" and he looked at me with a grin. What was going on in his head right now? Eivor agreed, with the look from Sigurd to me and we made our way to the longship. We took the ship for a while and the crew sang a beautiful Nordic song. I didn't understand a word of what they were singing, but I thought it was very good. The landscape passed us. Green and Fresh. The sun warmed my face and I enjoyed the wind in my hair. Eivor and Sigurd were talking about something, but I couldn't hear what they were talking about. I watch them for a while until they both looked at me. I smiled and looked at the water, embarrassed to have been caught staring at them.

After what felt like an hour we arrived at the Scir and after a short time we were standing in front of my hut. If you could still call it a hut. The roof had burned down, the door kicked in, and the front yard trampled. It looked worse inside. Every chest and cupboard was cleared, items were scattered on the floor, and some of my notes were torn. I knelt next to a torn recipe and slowly picked it up. What kind of men rob a woman of all her possessions just because she helps people. This priest deserves what he got. I let my gaze wander around the room sadly. I didn't live here for long and I didn't build a real life here, but I had something and now that had been taken away from me. I tried to gather the remaining pages when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Eivor had knelt by me and was helping me collect the scraps of paper.

"I'm sorry about what happened here Ella," he said sincerely.

“It's okay, I wasn't really at home here. It's just a shame cause all of my recipes, but I can still use some of them. So it isn't that bad ”I assured him and gave him a grateful smile. He replied. It didn't seem as bad as I initially suspected. Where was Sigurd anyway? His presence makes me nervous and I didn't know why.

"Do you have what you need?" I heard Sigurd call from outside.

"We'll have it in a moment!" Replied Eivor and stood up to hand me the pages.

I folded it carefully and put it in the bag that i found in a corner of the room. Fortunately, it was still intact. I opened it and discovered dried herbs that I could still use for Dag’s wound. Unfortunately, the rest, including the one in the front yard, had been completely destroyed. Eivor had already gone outside and I looked around again. To say goodbye, I think, because I couldn't stay here. The Saxons would get me back and probably kill me right away. I looked one last time at the broken furniture and decided to go outside.

Eivor and Sigurd were talking when I stepped into the sunlight and they saw me, they both fell silent immediately.

"I have everything, we can go." I let them know, pulled the strap of my bag tighter around my shoulder and held it tight.

Both nodded. We were silent on the way to the ship, nobody said anything. Until Eivor broke the silence.

"Ella? Where will you go after you helped Dag? ”He asked.

That was a good question. Where should i go now? I had nothing left. No family, no friends and no home. I would probably have to look for work somewhere. so i don't have to sleep on the street.

"I dont know. I can't go back. The Saxons will look for me and then probably kill me. ”I said and my steps felt heavy.

"I see" Eivor stopped. “You know, Sigurd and I talked earlier. Our settlement is still young. We only got here 3 days ago and we could use a healer like you. You'd have a roof over your head and food in your stomach. In return you help the people in Ravensthorpe.

"What?" i looked surprised from him to Sigurd, who just nodded. I didn't know what to say. First he saved me and then he gave me a home. "I don't know what to say .."

Sigurd laughed and said, "How about yes?"

I had to smile and Eivor held out his hand. "Deal?"

I didn't think twice and accepted. Sigurd held out his hand to me and I took it too. When our hands touched, I could literally feel the sparks spray. My head was buzzing. It felt like I was in a different place. I saw golden fields of wheat, green meadows and I felt like i was at home. Then I was in a city, made by gods and a man held my hand. He smiled and then I was back on the river bank with Sigurd's hand in mine. I let go of him and looked at him. Did he just experience the same thing as me? His look said nothing, but something just happened between us. This is going to be interesting. I was sure.

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

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Never say never - Chapter 13

Here's a new chapter of my main story (I forgot to go on posting lol)

Fandom: RPF- Richard Armitage

Characters : OC x RA

Rating : Mature

Warnings : RPF (and factually incorrect and very soppy)

°13° ~Victoria~

She had expected questions and intrusive crowding, but her friends and their friends, sat motionless around the table still. Victoria saw that they had unpacked every single book and movie she had bought and put them into piles, though she could not discern the logic governing the separate piles.

“Have a nice chat?” Liza asked after a moment of Victoria just standing in the door, wordless, chewing on her lower lip.

Victoria, in turn, gave an assenting grunt and handed Martin back his phone with a grateful smile.

“More information, please?” Angie demanded, crossing her legs, and putting her folded hands upon them like a school mistress ready to listen to the recitation of a particularly hopeless student. Victoria bristled.

She had to dig her heels into the floor to keep herself from turning around and fleeing the room. Adulthood somehow boiled down to the absence of the heavy, constraining hand at the back of her neck, and Victoria had a tendency to bolt every chance that she got. Afterwards, she always felt ashamed because she knew that she had not solved anything by just leaving a situation in which she felt uncomfortable, but she had not learned how to face her instincts and overcome them.

For her, it had always been a matter of being able to follow her reflexes or being forced to go against them.

It pained her to discover that her instincts were all wrong and, what was worse, not only did they neither soothe nor protect Victoria herself, no, they also usually ended up hurting someone else.

“We…we talked. I said he’s welcome to come here if he cares to. He said he’d help me set up any other furniture I might need.” She felt and sounded sheepish, Victoria knew, but she didn’t know how to make that very normal conversation sound like the outrageous exchange of dark confessions the others apparently expected.

“Oh, so I’ve been made redundant? And I had hoped you’d let me watch the movie with you.” Hiddleston winked at her.

Big breath, Victoria told herself, this was good, this was healthy, don’t run, stand your ground.

“You’re welcome here, little fairy-lord. You can come watch the movie with me.” She said in a tiny voice.

“Oh goodie good good, we have made piles of movies we want to watch along with you…on your fancy new TV…” Angie clapped her hands and, finally, Victoria understood the piles. “You naughty girl, you.” Liza laughed.

“Naughty?” Victoria blinked. She did not see why she would be naughty for watching movies. Had her father been right, and they corrupted the impeccable morals he had tried to instil in her? Were movies the devil’s dark corruption after all?

Martin had called it “porn”, she remembered, and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

“What are you talking about? Have I done something wrong?” Panic seeped into her voice now and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. She knew that Liza sometimes made crude jokes, but up to this point, she had never been the butt of these jokes.

“Liza!” Angie hissed, rushing to Victoria’s side to soothe her with shushing noises and tender caresses. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She said, but Victoria could hear that she was lying, as noted before, Angie was a terrible liar.

“Yeah, low blow, I’m sorry. So, what else does Armitage say?” Liza lifted her hands apologetically and leaned back in her chair, knowing that Victoria would most probably shrink back from her if she was to approach right now.

“He wanted to go over some comments in the script with me. We might meet up if he finds the time. I gave him my number.” Victoria narrated in an emotionless voice; her mind still occupied by the accusation of being a naughty girl.

Angie threw a look at her wife that was so earth-shatteringly severe that Liza didn’t even dare make a face at that. Unfortunately, Jenna had not picked up on it and so, still snacking on the pizza crust, she asked: “Really? You gave him your number? Cute.”

Victoria stared at her for a solid 2 minutes; her mouth was bone-dry, and her tongue seemed to be glued to her teeth. She barely heard the warning hiss Angie gave her employee. Her head was spinning; she was entering territories of supposition and innuendo she was painfully unfamiliar with, and it scared her.

“Cute?” She gasped, feeling the tears of helpless perplexity burn behind her eyes, ready to spill over. Victoria had never given this number to any man, because the last time she had given a man her private telephone number, she had had another number, she had lived in another city, she had led a very different life.

“It’s not like that. It’s professional.” She tried to defend herself weakly. It was true, she had met that man twice in her life, and both times, it had been with Liza in the context of that ludicrous side-job she had accepted to keep busy.

On the other hand, she was a single woman and, as far as she knew, he was a single man. She was a recent divorcee; he had never been married. He had slept with a thousand and one nameless women in his life…and she had only ever had one sexual partner and had never expected having to think about another one.

“Fuck.” She cursed. There were no Saints that came to mind to call upon in this situation. She should have trusted her gut feeling and pull out of this whole story while she was ahead; she should have left this first evening right away and never return to that damn room. She should have kept her door closed tightly.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry…I’m sure that he knows that it’s strictly professional.” Jenna tried to calm her, but her eyes were wide and worried now.

“OH! Will he? I’ve invited the man into my home, haven’t I? Like Delilah to Samson, oh Lord…” Victoria groaned, all of her compounded trauma harrowing her to the brink of tears once again. What would he think of her? Did he believe that she wanted to throw herself at him like a common prostitute? Did he expect that? Would he be violent if she refused?

If he thought that her intentions had been indecent, surely, he would not try to contact her in any way or form, would he?

“Like…Vic, do you intend to seduce him and cut his magic…hair?” Liza mocked, but when she saw the expression Victoria’s face, she fell silent instantly. She waved Hiddleston and Martin aside, feeling that they should not draw attention to themselves.

“Vic,” she pleaded, “look at me, girl. It’s okay, you’re safe. It was a dumb joke, nothing more.”

Liza knew that she had gone too far too fast; Victoria was in her living room while it was dark outside, together with 4 people who were attracted to women and yet, she had only made the connection once Armitage had been mentioned.

Devout and faithful, Victoria had only ever known the man she had married, in the biblical sense, and it had been overzealous of her to believe that she might take another lover so easily. There were too many things to unravel before.

“What have I done?” Victoria sobbed and the dam broke; hot tears broke their way out of her system, and she cried pitifully for a few minutes straight, shaking so much that her teeth clattered as if she was standing naked in the snow.

“Victoria? Is there anything I can do for you? You can talk to me.” Hiddleston offered and his calm demeanour managed to pacify her enough to shake her head slowly. “I have acted abominably. I…just can’t do anything right.” She croaked.

“That is not true. You’ve been frightened and overwhelmed at first, but you’ve been a kind hostess tonight. We had fun this afternoon, didn’t we? What is it that upsets you so?” Hiddleston took her hands and brushed his thumbs lightly across them in slow, gentle circles.

“What does that poor man think of me now? He will believe I am completely insane!” Victoria lamented, tears still running down her cheeks in regular intervals. “No, he won’t. He’s not a monster. We all can see that you’ve been through some things, but we’re here to make it better. And, as you said, it’s strictly professional. I’m sure he knows that.”

Hiddleston exchanged a look with Martin. Richard knew, but that didn’t prevent him from maybe hoping that one day, it wouldn’t be so. As far as one could make any assumptions based on Victoria’s erratic behaviour, she seemed half scared to death that it might turn into something that wasn’t all that professional anymore as well.

“You’ve had a stressful day, why don’t we leave you alone? I’m surprisingly free the next few days, so if you want me to, I can swing by tomorrow and while I go have my picture taken, you can choose some more furniture. And then, we finish the movie? What about that?” He coaxed her into calming down until a puffy face and a pathetic hiccup were all that remained of her passionate outburst. “Yes, I’d like that. We can go have cakes in the afternoon?” Victoria replied.

It was easy to like Hiddleston, and that discovery surprised and amazed her. He was kind and unobtrusive; he had a good sense of humour, and, most importantly, she was in no way attracted to him.

Oh, he was glorious, there was no denying that, but he reminded her too much of that friend she had dreamt up as a child – when she had lain in bed, lonely as can be – to be in any way titillating to her. He made her wish that she wasn’t an only child; he made her long for siblings, for someone to go to for advice and solace.

Never would she look at him like Jenna did: with big, longing cow-eyes that were starry with wordless adulation.

Vic’s mind slammed on the brakes again. Jenna did stare at that man like he had literally just fallen from the sky and, when Vic had proposed to go to the tearooms, her breath had stumbled for a second there.

Jenna had a crush on Liza’s friend.

Victoria was utterly baffled. Were things that easy in the normal world? Did people just meet someone handsome and kind, and then allowed their heart to leap into their eyes? Victoria could not fathom being that brazen and reckless.

“He’s right. Let’s retreat. I’m sorry, Vic.” Liza shooed the others out of the room. “Good night, dear Victoria. Thanks for the pizza. I hope we can be friends now.” Martin spoke gently as if to a sick child or to a fretful mare.

“Sorry for being such a mess. Yes, sure we can be friends. Thank you so much for the poppets.” She picked them up gingerly as she followed the others out of the room and turned off the lights in the living room.

“Not the kind of plastic dick people usually keep next to their bed.” Liza mumbled under her breath, which made Victoria skewer her with a scandalised, speechless look. “Sorry, it was too good to miss out on. You know, because…”

Victoria lifted her eyebrows in an expression of annoyed impatience; the joke went completely over her head.

“Richard is abbreviated Dick. You know…” Liza wagged her head from side to side to make very clear that she was only making a very tasteless joke and not attacking Victoria in any way. “Funny.” Victoria commented, her face so stern and forbidding that she would have given Armitage and Macfadyen a run for their money.

“They will not be kept next to my bed…once I get the proper décor for them.” Victoria then snarled. “Décor?” Martin was interested by that comment, his hand on the doorhandle already but his face turned to Victoria, eager to hear how she would proceed.

“I guess I’ll have to go to the pet shop to get a proper set-up where they’d feel at ease.” Victoria shrugged.

“They’re inanimate dolls.” Liza cried out, horrified at the idea that her friend would procure a cave and a hobbit-hole for two toys. “They’re the only friends I have now.” Victoria shot back with a dark smile.

“Ah, come on. I love you, girl. You know that I love you, don’t you? I’d never want to do you harm.” Liza smiled warmly, hugging Victoria to her chest, and breathing in her warm, clean smell. “Go to bed.” She breathed and left.

And so, Victoria went upstairs with her poppets, laying them gently on the pillow next to hers before getting ready for bed. She brushed her hair and her teeth, applied creams and serums, and put her clothes in the laundry basket…only to return to an empty bedroom. For all anybody cared, she could have gone to bed dirty and dishevelled; nobody would ever have known.

Shaking her head, she dispelled those thoughts forcefully. She had made progress today, she had opened her home to other people, and she had taken two different, hasty, and informal meals with them. She was not sure that her friends were aware of the fact that she had never lived alone before in her life and that those experiences were completely new to her, but she felt the excitement of having had acquaintances over.

A couch, she would buy a proper couch for her little sanctuary so more people could come and enjoy movies with her.

She was on the right track, she could feel it, and so she fell asleep, her poppets next to her, with a blissful smile.

~Richard~

He was an idiot. He had nothing to do the next few days, but he had made it sound as if he was terribly busy.

She had assumed that, and he had been too proud to clear the misunderstanding up, which made it only fair that now, the ball was in his court, and he would have to contact Victoria to plan a…meeting.

He would not call it a “date”, because first of all, it wasn’t a date, and second, he didn’t want to play into the hands of Martin and Elizabeth who had been aiming for that kind of thing apparently.

She had sounded breathless but not as hostile as before tonight. She had given him her number and he couldn’t stop fidgeting with the paper; by now, he had saved her number in his phone and on his laptop, just in case that he reduced the poor note to dust by handling it so much.

What would he say though? Should he give her a call or just text? He had said he’d text her, but he wanted to be on the phone with her again; it seemed that they were doing alright on the phone even though she frequently checked out of the conversation to talk to other people.

By now, the others were certainly gone…No, he would not call her again when he had nothing new to tell her. He wondered if she would have reached out if she had his number; women were usually better at that than men.

Sexist, cool, he was going insane at a rapid pace. Pictures of her, kneeling on the floor and praying to her various saints to protect her from whatever it was that haunted her so, rose inside his mind; he wondered if she slept in long, flowing, weirdly anachronistic nightgowns or if she went to bed in an old ratty sweatshirt. Both had their own appeal.

God, it was late, and his mind was wandering in all the wrong directions. He would not think of her in bed, he had no reason or right to do so, she had not given him any cause or encouragement to take that path down a very slippery slope, but he could not forget the small moans he had caught now and again.

Of course, they might have been groans of exasperation and impatience, but even so, there was something within him, deep beneath the parts of his mind he had any control over, that had responded ferociously to the breathless sound.

Maybe, he should just get it over with and send her one of those texts that only informed her of his number…

#fanfiction #richard armitage #never say never #rpf #longfic #romcom #friends to lovers #ao3 fanfic

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago

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CURSED: CHAPTER ONE

"He was a boy, She was a girl"

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Mack meets a new guy at school, Kai Parker

Warnings: swearing?

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Mackenzie pulled open the car door and climbed into the passenger seat, leaning over the middle console and planting a sweet kiss on Ben's lips. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

"Morning babe." He said happily.

"Morning." She smiled back.

Mack dropped her bag by her feet and sat back, pulling her seatbelt across her body and plugging it in. Ben revved the engine and began driving off in the direction of the school, arguably way to fast.

The whole way to school Ben hammered on about how annoying the freshmans would be and how he was so ready to be the quarterback this year. Mack nodded along and made sounds of agreement every now and then, but she really didn't care much for Ben's popular boy life. Mack was the quiet girl who got good grades and sat on her own at lunch. She only went to parties and attended football games so she would appear the 'perfect girlfriend' as Ben said.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Ben turned to her and cupped her face, pulling her in for a long kiss that was only really to give everyone else a show. And that made her stomach drop. They got out the car and instantly she felt Ben's arm wrap around her waist, pulling her into his side tightly.

As they wandered through the halls everyone waved and said hi to Ben, completely ignoring Mack. Ben received the wanting stares of girls and some claps on the back from some of the guys on the football team. As they reached her locker Mack stopped and unlocked it, shoving her books inside and grabbing her sketch book.

"I still don't know why you even bother with those, you're not good enough to get a scholarship." Ben said bitterly, motioning to her sketch book. Mack furrowed her brows and slammed her locker shut, charging off to her first period class. She heard Ben call after her but ignored him, knowing it'd come back to bite her later.

The head splitting noise of the clock ticking filled her ears, the screeching of chair legs against the scratchy floor and the constant first-day-back chatter of her classmates slowly driving Mack insane. She'd been in the room for less than five minutes and she was already ready to self combust just to get out of this hell-hole. The graphite gilded across the page as she drew, sketching god knows what and doodling all over her sketch book pages. Someone coughed obnoxiously above her and Mack instantly looked up, coming face to face with a super hot boy she'd never seen before.

"Is this seat taken?" He spoke with a hint of cockiness, gesturing to the empty seat beside Mack. She shook her head and watched as he made his way round and pulled out the chair, dumping his bag next to the table leg and plopping down into his seat, leaning back and crossing his ankles. He looked over to Mack and her head snapped back down, her attention back on her sketches.

The teacher walked in and Mack quickly placed her textbook over her sketches, hiding them and pretending to pay attention. In actual fact, she already knew what the teacher was talking about, the droning sound of his voice like a white noise.

About half way through the lesson Mack felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked to where it came from only to see the boy from before studying her intently.

"So what's the deal with you? I don't think I've heard you mutter a single word since I've seen you." He asked, slightly confused. Mack shook her head and looked down at the desk before looking back up again, her sight instantly catching the boy's captivating blue-grey eyes.

"Who are you? I've never seen you before." She asked shyly, speaking more than she'd like to. The boy grinned widely before offering his hand for her to shake.

"Kai, Kai Parker. And I just moved here last weekend. My twin sister is also in our grade." Mack nodded and kept sketching, hoping he'd leave her alone now. But he didn't. "So how long have you lived here? What's your name?" He continued. Mack sighed.

"All my life, and I'm Mack Grace." She said almost too quietly. The sound of his voice made Mack rest her head in her hands and try to tune him out, but nothing worked.

"Mack? As in Mackenzie? That's an awful long name. Do you go by a nickname? Mack - no, too many people call you that, I bet it's what you tell everyone to call you. Oh, oh what about Kenzie? Actually, no. Too long. Ohhhh I know! I'll call you Kenz. There we go, short, sweet and catchy. Nice to meet you Kenz." Kai babbled on, not realising Mack had completely ignored him.

She'd just met the guy and she already hated him. Mack felt awful but he was just so annoying. Hot, but annoying. The rest of the lesson continued like that, Kai chatting incessantly in Mack's ear as she tried to get the work done so she could go back to her sketching and ignoring him.

"Those are soooo good." Kai basically whispered as he leant over Mack's shoulder with wide eyes, entranced as her pencil moved over the page. She snapped the book shut to stop him from looking and he turned away, muttering an offended, "O-kay." And whistling while rolling his eyes. He was staring at just the page she'd done that lesson, which was now almost completely covered in sketches of people in their class, from all the angles Mack could see them from her seat. She rolled her eyes and kept drawing, letting her long hair fall as a curtain to hide herself from him.

The sound of the bell was like music to her ears and Mack instantly stood, scooping her books into her arms and charging out the class and down the hall. With her eyes kept trained down, Mack didn't realise someone was in front of her until she collided with them. They both fell to the ground and Mack's sketches were littered all over the floor, pieces of loose paper floating down around them. She scrabbled to her knees and crawled around aimlessly, picking up the pages and stuffing them back into her book. She went to grab the last page but the other girl got there first, Mack's eyes drifting up to meet hers.

"S-Sorry." Mack said shyly, taking the page from the mystery girl and slowly standing up. The other girl joined her, giving Mack a warm smile.

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault. I'm Jo." She said reassuringly, offering her hand to Mack, who hesitantly took it before shaking.

"I'm Mack." Jo smiled at her and let Mack's hand go, stepping back slightly and speaking up again.

"Do you know where Mrs Price's class room is? I'm totally lost and totally new here." Jo admitted bashfully, looking at Mack with pleading eyes. Mack nodded and motioned for Jo to follow her before they both walked down the hall, side-by-side.

"You don't talk much." Jo observed - not in a rude way though - as they approached the door to the classroom. Mack nodded and opened the door, letting Jo walk in first. She thanked Mack before heading inside and picking two seats at the back for her and Mack.

"I was never really listened to, so I stopped talking." Mack said simply, sitting down and folding her arms over the desk. Jo nodded slowly and turned her attention to the front of the class, where Mrs Price was introducing herself to the class.

As the lesson went on Mack felt as if she could sleep, she hated American History. It was so dull and useless, not to mention Mack could probably correct Mrs Price in every 'fact' she told. Finally they were set some work and a sheet landed on her desk. Mack picked it up and examined it, just a boring old worksheet. Mack turned to Jo, hoping to find out more about her.

"So you said you were new?" Mack began. Jo made a noise of confirmation before elaborating.

"We only moved here last weekend, family of 10. I have a twin brother and a bunch of younger siblings." Mack nodded and furrowed her brows in thought.

"A twin?" She pushed.

"Yeah, he's a good brother but is extremely annoying." Jo chuckled. That's when it clicked.

"By any chance is your twin Kai?" Mack asked, suddenly realising the resemblance between the two. Jo nodded and wrote something down.

"You've met him?" Jo said while writing.

"Yeah, I sat next to him in first period. Does he ever shut up?" Mack said with a laugh at the memory of Kai chatting in her ear for the whole hour. Jo laughed too.

"Sometimes. If he's eating or-" Jo cut herself off quickly before she said too much. Mack tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Or what?" She asked.

"Oh, um, or if he's listening to m-music." Jo answered quickly. Mack nodded uncertainly and begun her worksheet too.

Mack slowly wandered out to the car park from her last period lesson, really not wanting to spend the whole ride with Ben, but knowing she had no other way home. She walked up to Ben's car and saw him leaning against the car door, arms folded over his chest.

"Hey babe." He smirked, pulling her into a kiss. Ugh, Mack hated the name 'babe' but decided to say nothing. She smiled and said hi back quietly before opening her car door and plopping down on the seat, leaving her bag on the floor at her feet. She began humming a tune, tapping her nails lightly against the armrest as she did so. Mack looked over at Ben as she felt him sit down, shutting his door with a thud and putting the keys in the ignition. She turned her attention to her window, watching as couples walked by holding hands and friends gossiped about their first day back after winter break.

"Please stop humming, it's almost as bad as listening to you talk about fucking art scholarships." Ben snapped, huffing frustratedly and pulling out the parking space. Mack stopped and frowned, looking out the window again and ignoring whatever shitty music he put on.

Her mind drifted as they drove home, thinking about her day. Meeting Jo might've been the best thing to happen to her, seeing as she was a potential best friend. Mack and Jo really clicked, they just kind of understood each other. After their second period had ended, Mack had asked Jo to sit with her at lunch and she agreed.

The other person she thought about was Kai. God, Kai. She new he was annoying, a typical grade-A asshole and extremely attractive. She knew she should stay away, and that she shouldn't think about a guy as attractive as him when she had a boyfriend, but she didn't care. He was probably the most talkative person she'd ever met and also the most annoying, but Mack felt drawn to him, strangely.

"Mack, Mack!" Ben repeated, waving his hand in front of her face. Mack snapped out her thoughts and looked over at Ben, who didn't look too happy. "We're here." Is all he said, gesturing to Mack's small house behind him. She fake smiled and thanked him for the ride, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before grabbing her bag and getting out the car.

"Hey Dad." Mack Shouted as she walked through the door, dropping her bag on a chair and walking into the small kitchen and reaching for a glass from the cupboard. She filled it with water and gulped it all down, setting the glass down on the counter before sitting at the small dining table and opening her bag.

"Hey Wolfy." Mack's Dad smiled, ruffling her hair as he walked past. "How was school?" He asked.

"Good I guess, I think I made a new friend." Mack said happily, pulling out her textbooks and starting her math homework.

"Good good." Her dad said, sitting down on the plush old armchair that was fading from age. He picked up his book and put on his glasses, opening it up and peering over the top at Mack. "Your sister has the night shift tonight and I'm meeting Tony for a meeting about the company at eight, so you have the house to yourself tonight." He said before redirecting his eyes to his book.

Mack's dad helped run a company with his best friend Tony, but it wasn't very big. They struggled with money so her sister wasn't in college, so she already worked at a local business and often took on an extra night shifts to help with money. Mack worked a weekend job, but spent lots of her time on her school work and drawing. She was insanely smart, getting straight A's in every subject with almost no effort, but she'd never get a scholarship off of that alone. The only thing she had a shot at was an art scholarship, otherwise she wouldn't get to go to college at all.

Mack looked up at the sound of the phone and so did her dad, but before she could answer it he got there first. He listened for a moment before holding out the phone for Mack to take.

"It's Ben." He said before walking off.

"Hey are you doing anything tonight?" Ben asked. Mack chewed her lip, contemplating her answer before deciding he'd be able to tell if she lied.

"No, Kim is taking the night shift and my dad is going out at eight." She said, still not sure if she should've just said she was busy.

"Perfect. I'll come over for eight thirty?" Ben said.

Mack gulped. This would be the first time she was home alone with Ben and for some reason the thought scared her rather than excited her.

"See you at eight thirty."

#smut #elena gilbert #image #images #stefan salvatore #the vampire diaries #chris wood #damon salvatore #kol mikaelson #tvd #kai parker image #kai parker x reader #kai parker smut #kaiparker #kai Parker #kai Parker fanfic #tvd fanfic

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khaotic-kitsunes · 4 years ago

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Cancellation

I just wanna straight up apologise for whatever the fuck this is because I have NEVER written for this man in my life, the only reason I have the urge to at the moment is because of a tik tok series done by an amazing user called thisnerdcosplays

BUT, people always say things get better with practice, so here’s to that long ass road because how dare people make me thirst for this man.

To clarify the content is usually about their hilarious OC but the Vlad King interactions have me fucking dying. So yeah.

AND YES. I did have to make a new cover image for Vlad King...I don’t like it, at all but fuck it, I’ll update this one and the rest too at some point when it isn’t 2:30am hahahaha

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

You stared at the bouquet of luscious red tulips as you placed them in a conveniently empty vase, still unsure as to why you had nearly trodden on them when you went to collect your mail. There had been no knock on your door, if there had been then you could have found out who was leaving you flowers every few days; the only clue you had that the flowers were truly meant for you, was the little white note attached to them with your name written out in a strangely bright red ink.

“Wonder if I should call Nemuri…tell her that I’ve got more flowers?” You mumbled out the question to yourself quietly, flipping over the note that came with the flowers; all the other notes had your name and nothing else. However, this time the note had more writing messily scribbled out on the back; an address, accompanied by a phone number. Two things that you should throw away.

Before you could think on your decision too much, your phone began to sound off with an almost hideous tune that Nemuri had insisted you set for her number; so that you would recognise her calls and not ignore them. A deviously successful tactic on her part, given that you hated to let the tune drag on for longer than you had to.

“You know, I was just thinking about calling you” You didn’t bother greeting her as you answered the phone, running your fingertips over the note before setting it down to instead admire the brilliance of the tulips you had been gifted with.

“Oh, so I was right. You did get more flowers today! What are they?”

You rolled your eyes at her remark, surprised that you hadn’t been expecting her call; Nemuri always said you needed a love life. It should have been obvious to you that she would cling onto any new hope that might show up; which is exactly what Nemuri called your flower dilemma.

“Don’t make me hang up on you, especially when I have something to tell you” Your warning seemed to sink in fairly quickly, given the quickly uttered apology, the only prompt you needed from the eager woman on the other side of the phone call. Her interest in your love life would be worrying if it weren’t for the fact that she had heard your drunken ramblings about being interested in such things.

“Okay, so the notes are usually blank right? Except for my name? Well this time…there’s an address and a phone number” You pulled your phone away from your ear, wincing slightly when your friend’s screech of excitement came through the line, nearly deafening you.

“So, what are you going to do? You’re going to call right?”

You pursed your lips, looking back towards the tulips hesitantly, fingers tapping against the soft petals to distract yourself from the decision you knew you would have to make eventually; to accept the clear invitation at finding out who your mystery admirer was, or to throw the note away and go about your life as if it had never happened.

“I…don’t know” The words felt foreign to your tongue, an answer you most certainly weren’t satisfied with and yet, it was the only one you had for the moment. It was something that needed more thought than you had been able to give.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’? (Name), you’ve been going insane trying to work out who’s been sending you these flowers and this is your opportunity!”

“Well, yeah, I know that Nemuri. But what if it’s just some trick and…and I get kidnapped or something?” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment when Nemuri’s laughter filled your ears, having gained a little too much entertainment from the suggestion that someone would want to kidnap you. It was almost insulting, except that even you had to admit how farfetched it sounded.

“Listen, (Name), I’m not saying just rock up to the address. All I’m telling you to do, is give the number a call…see where it goes from there? You never know, could be a fun night involved for you!”

You let out a noise of protest, quickly withdrawing your hand from the beautiful flowers, despite the fact that your teasing friend couldn’t see you; thrown by the boldness of her joke considering the circumstances.

“Nemuri, that isn’t funny!” You wished that your voice hadn’t sounded so high-pitched while you scolded the still giggling woman, entirely unimpressed with how the phone call had gone and debating if it would be worth her complaints later if you were to hang up on her now.

“Oh, alright. Listen, I have to go, I only called to see if you got any flowers from your secret admirer. Try not to chicken out (Name)!”

~ ~ ~

“Um…hi? I’m looking for someone named…Sekijiro?” You stared up at the man that had moved to stop you walking into the building further, his deep frown somehow making you even more nervous than you already were; which, at this point, was what you thought to be an impossibility.

“Name?” You opened your mouth to answer the terrifying man’s one-word question, closing it when someone else rushed over to the two of you and with a few whispered words exchanged; you found yourself following after the person that had interrupted what felt like an interrogation.

“Sorry about that miss…(Name), was it? The boss was a little busy so not everyone was given the memo to be expecting your visit today” The explanation was almost as rushed as your pace, stopping only when you reached a large door with a sign that clearly stated not to disturb whoever was in there.

“Ah, it’s fine. Really. Should you be knocking on that door? It says…not to disturb…?” You went quiet when you were flashed a reassuring smile, though any relief the smile offered you went right out the window when the door was opened; a giant of a man greeting the both of you with a stern and particularly unimpressed look on his face.

“Miss (Name) is here, I thought I’d show her to your office before leaving for the day” With an explanation shorter than the one you had been given, the person that guided you to the room was gone; leaving you alone with the giant that now stood to the side, an arm extended in a motion for you to enter the strangely cosy looking office.

“So…you’re Sekijiro?” You spoke softly, hesitant as you wandered into the room, taking particular note of the quiet click that you assumed signalled the lock on the door; meaning that you were effectively trapped alone with a man you didn’t officially know.

“I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up…alone no less” He moved past you as he spoke, his voice surprisingly soothing to the nerves that currently wreaked havoc on your body and mind; exactly as he had sounded on the phone. The entire reason you had agreed to meet in the first place, unfortunately, it wasn’t until now that you realised you had forgotten to send Nemuri a message about your location.

“I said I would come see you” You blinked in surprise when he turned back towards you, offering you a glass of what appeared to be water; another in his other hand, though that one he was already drinking from.

“I have bottled water in here as well, if you’d prefer that instead” He nodded his head towards the small mini-fridge that you had failed to notice, the silent implications of being unable to trust him at this stage running around in your mind as you took the glass from him; probably not your best move of the day. Yet certainly not your worst.

“Thank you” You sipped at the water quietly, eager to distract yourself from the awkward silence that settled over the both of you; there didn’t seem to be a great deal to speak about with a man that terrified you to the point where you could barely think clearly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to keep you hear for our first meeting…but something has come up and I can’t leave for a few hours. I can have one of my men drive you home if you want to try this again another time?” You peeked over at Sekijiro curiously, tilting your head to the side while he watched you silently, waiting for your answer to a question he seemed to be reluctant to ask; the awkward consideration surprisingly sweet.

“I don’t mind spending some time here for a little while…but, what do you mean? One of your men? What sort of place is this? The guy from earlier called you boss too…” You were hesitant to ask, nothing about the building screamed official legal business to you; which meant that it was probably a case of questions better left unasked.

“The easiest way to explain it would be to say that this is my main place of business. I’m the leader of this gang.”

You stared at him for a moment, your mouth falling open while your brain struggled to process the new information; trying desperately to work out how you had gotten yourself into such a mess.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home? You can stay if you want…but given the look on your face…” He trailed off, motioning to your shocked expression and causing you to shake your head quickly, forcing every ounce of surprise off of your features; even though he had just called himself a mafia boss, the man hadn’t technically harmed you despite clearly having the means to. You might as well stay, see where things went.

“No, no…it’s…I’m sorry, this is a bit surprising…but I would like to stay. Given that I’m free to leave, if I get the urge to?” He nodded slowly to your awkwardly asked question, motioning towards a comfortable looking couch before moving to sit at the solid looking desk in the room; one that looked fun to occupy, if you hadn’t just met the man.

“As I said, I can have one of my men take you home any time you’d like. The same applies for if you need anything, all you need to do is ask and I’ll arrange it.” His words had you nodding in agreement, happy that things seemed to be going well so far, despite the unexpected developments that had already taken place.

“…I would like a proper date, another time I mean. Since this isn’t exactly the romantic night out you offered over the phone” You gave a small, nervous smile with your attempt at a joke, getting yourself comfortable on the couch that he had motioned to; nearly missing the slight grin that tugged at his lips.

“Of course, I would love to take you out properly next time, (Name).”

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crimsonheart01 · 5 years ago

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Set the Pace (Coco x OC/Reader)

A/N: Needed an escape today. Have some cute and sexy Coco all rolled into one. This has everything? Romance, fluff, angst, smut. Word Count: 10,612 Playlist: Body High - Alicia Moffat Warning: Fluffy smut. Is this a thing? I feel like it’s a thing! Swearing but that’s probably a given in all my works! Oh, and a small moment of being rough with a hangaround.

She pulled up into the desolate driveway. She chuckled to herself, nothing ever changed with him. There was junk all around the place and a pristine Harley sitting amoung it all. The only thing he ever took care of. She grinned, recalling the baby-faced man when he started prospecting.

She killed the engine, grabbed her duffel and hopped out of her car. She skipped up the steps and up onto her tiptoes to rummage in the eavestrough. Her fingers connected with the cool metal of the spare key and she pulled it out, using it to let herself inside.

As she kicked the door closed behind her, she was met with the overwhelming bachelor mustiness and scoffed. He needed to open a window, or several. She laughed and called out into the house, “You got any food in this place? The long drive through the night has me famished.”

There was no answer, but she picked up the sounds of water running and figured he was in the shower. She dropped the spare key onto the counter, followed by her bag. She spotted the kutte hanging folded over the back of the couch. He was definitely home. He never went anywhere with out the leather. She turned into the kitchen and immediately went for the snack cupboard. The one where she knew he kept the goods.

~(MMC)~

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, quickly drying off. He grabbed his jeans, pulling them up over his boxers and when he went to grab his vest, he heard the noises coming from out in the main area. He narrowed his eyes, flipping his hair back and out of his face. He dropped his vest back down, draping it over the sink and stepped towards the door.

He opened it slightly, ensuring that the latch didn’t make a sound as he opened it. He pressed his ear to the opening and listened intently. He knew that Angel wasn’t home. He was at the yard this morning. On duty. It couldn’t be EZ, he didn’t have a key and Gilly was over at Vicky’s. Which begged the question as to who was currently inside? He swore internally to himself for letting his guard down and leaving his kutte in the living room. That’s where his piece was sitting.

He adjusted his pants, slipping around the ajar door, and padded out into the hall. He lined his back against the wall and peered around it, surveying the living room and kitchen. He spotted someone in the kitchen, crouched down and took his chance. He darted out into the living room and reached into his kutte. Grabbing his gun, he cocked it and flicked off the safety. He straightened out and stepped through into the kitchen.

He noted the duffel bag sitting on the floor and the spare key on the counter. He looked down to see where the intruder was reaching into the back of one cupboard. He trained his hands and kept his stance steady. Waiting for her to pop back up. He narrowed his eyes, half a dozen thoughts crossing his mind, mainly why Angel never mentioned another woman.

He watched as she rocked back on her heels, a box of cereal in her hand and opened it with her back to him.

~(MMC)~

She stood up and poured a handful of Cheerios into her mouth. She spun around and went to put her hand behind her, an aide to help her sit on the counter when she was startled by the person standing there but more so the fact that she was being held at gunpoint. She shrieked and clutched at the box. The packaging crinkling under her grip.

“Who the fuck are you?” She yelled, her voice jumping up an octave in fear.

She kept her eyes trained on him. Noting that he definitely wasn’t Angel. Who’s house they were currently in. She had no idea who this man was. She figured if anyone was going to be in this house it would’ve been one of the Reyes brothers. Not this random.

He didn’t offer any kind of expression change at her question, nor at her scream and that irked her. He didn’t even flinch. All he did was stand his ground and glare at her. Her heart pumped erratically, suddenly terrified. Had she entered the wrong house? No, that was insane. The spare key was in the same place it always had been. Ever since he bought the damn place. All the furniture was the same. There was nothing different about his house

She took a deep breath, irritated at the hitched sound it made. She licked her lips and swallowed. She slowly let go of her grip on the box, flinching as it crinkled loudly in the silence between them.

“You’re not Angel.” She said. Point blank.

This did illicit a response. He shook his head, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She exhaled. That was something. At least they both knew Angel. That helped. Maybe.

“He knows I’m here.” She started, “Or well, that I’m coming.”

She waited for a response, but none came. Her panic and terror was starting to hit a high and she needed whoever this man was to lower the gun. She needed him to understand that she was ok to be here. Without him shooting her first. Or at all, preferably. She made deliberate and slow movements, trying to keep her rationale in place as she addressed him.

She lowered the box, placing it on the counter behind her. She held her hands back up in surrender and then pointed to her back pocket, “I’m going to reach for my phone.” She talked him through her movements. He remained a statue as she dipped her hand into her back pocket to produce her phone. She unlocked it, opened her recent messages with Angel and held it out to him.

“Check the number with yours. It’s Angel.”

~(MMC)~

He took the offered phone but kept the gun trained on her. He opened up the contact information, reading the number a few times. Nodding, it was Angel’s. He skimmed through the messages between them and noted that Angel knew she was coming. Offered up the house to her for as long as she needed it. He flipped the phone around and handed it back to her. Then lowered the gun.

He tucked the gun into the back of his pants and gave her a half-hearted shrug by way of an apology. He didn’t know what to say her specifically. He had virtually no idea who she was. Only that Angel knew her. In some capacity. He briefly wondered if he’d been fucking another woman. Maybe Adelita wasn’t the only one he was getting around with. That wasn’t something he needed to think about. It wasn’t his business, as long as whoever his brother fucked wasn’t about to ruin the club, he was free to do what he wanted.

His eyes were caught by her movement as she pocketed her phone and he followed the curve of her hips all the way up her torso and then to her face. He hadn’t meant to check her out, but he couldn’t deny that she was hot. He’d been staring at her for a while. Since he first stepped into the kitchen. He was bound to notice her looks. When his gaze met hers, she was staring at him with her eyebrows raised. She’d obviously noticed his perusal. She tilted her head to the side, minutely and arched one eyebrow.

He winced internally, waiting for her attack. He found he wasn’t that great with women when they weren’t hangarounds. The club women were easy to deal with. They didn’t care about his lack of conversational skills. They only cared about the patch, and his status. They were there to provide him with a service, hoping he’d slip up and either gain another baby mama, or take one on as his vieja. Which, neither was going to happen. He’d learned his lesson from the 3 kids he already had and wasn’t interested in taking on a hangaround in an official capacity.

Instead of a confrontation, he watched her grab the abandoned cereal box, grab another handful for herself and then offer it out to him. She held her closed fist above her mouth and gave him a weird half smile. He realized he scared her but she was trying to work through that and be friendly.

“Want some?” She asked.

~(MMC)~

She’d been sleeping on Angel’s couch for more than a week now. Her neck was killing her but it was better than the backseat of her car. She flipped over onto her front, burying her head into her pillow. Groaning as she rolled a few kinks out. Her biggest problem though was the fact that she’d been dreaming about the Mayan she met on her first day back. Coco. She couldn’t shake the way he checked her out. Nor the silent exterior. There was something about him. Something that called out to her.

“Prima?” Angel called out from his bedroom, pulling her from her thoughts.

He walked through to the living room and leaning over the couch to grin down at her. He reached out and ruffled her hair while she grumbled, slapping his hand away. He let out a laugh but pulled his hand back and crossed both his arms over the head of the couch. She rolled over onto her back and peered up at him, her eyes still tired.

“Why are you up this early?” She questioned.

He shrugged, “Club business.”

She scoffed and swatted at him with a roll of her eyes. She knew he was lying. He was on yard duty today. Nothing about that had to do with the club.

“EZ said he wants to see you.” He mentioned, “Y’know, before you skip town again.”

Angel widened his eyes at that comment, giving her that knowing look. She shook her head, an amused smile on her mouth.

“I’m not skipping anything.” She said, “Maybe you should tell him to call me himself. He has my number. When did you turn into the messenger for baby brother Ezekiel?”

Angel rolled his eyes at her, “He hasn’t seen you, or talked to you, since he got out. Give him a break. He probably feels like you’re pissed at him.”

She closed her eyes in subtle annoyance. These two were the worst. The biggest babies.

“I’m not mad at anyone. He should’ve told me though. Whether or not if he knew you did.” She opened her eyes and met Angel’s gaze, “I don’t wanna be here longer than necessary. I’m just here to clear out that house and sell it. Nothing more.”

Angel feigned hurt but she knew he understood. Santo held nothing for her. No family, no friends, no prospects. Well, aside from him and EZ that was. They’d always be her oldest and dearest friends. The original trio. Angel stood back up and slipped on his kutte, rounding to the front of the couch and purposely draped himself over her to give her a hug.

“Angel!” She laughed; her voice muffled by his shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter. Giving her one of those annoyingly, comforting, big brother like hugs. She enjoyed it. Something she hadn’t felt in too long. She hadn’t bothered to make deep friendships with anyone out her way. She had all she needed in Angel, and EZ too. Now that he was out. She sighed and wiggled around until she could return the embrace and he sat up, pulling her with him.

“We missed you.” He murmured.

She smiled into his shoulder, “I know. I’m only up in San Jose. Take a road trip up my way some time.”

He chuckled and let go of her, standing back up, “Listen, there’s a party tonight. You should come.”

She screwed her face up at that. Club parties weren’t really her thing. She’d been ditched by Angel one too many times at them. There wasn’t much for her to do there. Aside from EZ and Angel, she didn’t know any of the other MC members. He seemed to sense her hesitation, looking down at her with understanding eyes. He gave her his little half smile. The one that he used in lieu of puppy dog eyes. She sighed and started to shake her head.

He held up a hand to stop her, “C’mon. EZ’s prospecting. He has to be on his toes all night, so he’ll be around for extra company.”

She groaned, throwing herself back down and tugging her flimsy sheet up around her shoulders. She glared up at Angel before flipping over, fixing her pillow dramatically and snuggled back into her makeshift bed. She closed her eyes but smirked as she did.

“Fine.” She agreed, “I’ll come, but mark my words Reyes, if you ditch me again, you’ll regret it.”

She peeked up at him out of one eye, in time to catch the wide smile. “Gracias prima! You still remember where the yard is?” When she nodded, he grinned at her, “Good, see you around 9?”

He turned and was heading out the door, knowing that she’d be there. She planned to get her fill of the boys before heading back home. She missed them. It’d been too long since she’d actually see them. Video chats and texts weren’t the same. Having their presence around was a different feeling altogether. It occasionally made her think about moving back but that was a pipe dream.

She checked the time on her phone and groaned. There was no way she’d get back to sleep now. She rolled off the couch and immediately went to the bathroom to turn the shower on. As she got ready for the day, the small thought that she’d be able to see Coco again kept popping up. One more person she’d sort of know at the Mayans party.

~(MMC)~

He’d kept himself scarce during the last week. Staying away from Angel’s and keeping to being at the yard. He didn’t have a read on the girl staying there nor how she knew Angel. It was best for him to keep his distance. Besides, they hadn’t exchanged much besides names before he was hightailing out of Angel’s place. He was good at sweet talking, he wasn’t good at normal conversation. At least not with women. Especially ones where he was trying to trying to figure out if they were sleeping together or not. He felt guilty for thinking about her, not knowing whether her and Angel were a thing.

He eventually asked Angel about her. Got a general overview. Old friend from the block. Neighbours. They grew up together on the same street. She left after high school and settled down somewhere up north. It explained why Angel never mentioned her before. He wasn’t in the practice of announcing all the private conversations he had on a daily basis. He learned that she was here to sell her parents old place. The house across from where Felipe still lived.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he was relieved when he discovered that there was nothing going on between Angel and her. The way Angel spoke about her was if she was his sister, or another family member. He still hadn’t figured out her deal with EZ, but he hoped it was the same. Considering boy scout was still hung up on Mrs. Galindo, he figured there was nothing there either. He sipped his beer, not that he’d ever act on any of these initial inklings he was having. He didn’t even know where to start.

He reclined in the metal chair, a beer in hand and was laughing at something dumb Gilly had said to one of the hangarounds. He shook his head. The party was in full swing and he was glad for the chance to relax with his brothers. After the constant back and forth, he was grateful for this time. He felt a body come up to him and without much ado, he allowed the hangaround to settle herself in his lap. He didn’t pay her too much mind, but that wasn’t any different than any other day. He picked up a light conversation with Gilly, laughing with him when his eyes zeroed in on a new car pulling up.

His hackles raised, always prepared for the worst and he shooed the hangaround off him. He sat forward, keeping a whether eye on the newcomer, his free hand reaching into his kutte. He was dumbfounded when he watched her appear from behind the front door of the car. He lowered his hand back into his lap but continued leaning forward to watch her.

He watched as she scanned the compound, a small smile growing in her face. It lit her features, whether she noticed it or not. It was the smallest change, but it made the biggest difference. She slammed her car door shut and then leaned against the hood for a moment. She was looking for someone. It didn’t take long for her to find Angel and Coco watched as she pushed off the car and called out to him.

He heard the distinct word she used. Primo. It settled the sudden lick of jealousy he felt and clamped down on. He shouldn’t be relieved by the term. It shouldn’t mean anything to him. He had no claim. She barely even knew his name. He settled back in his chair when she reached Angel, gulping down the acid growing in his throat as Angel’s arm slid over her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. Coco looked away, staring at the fire pit in front of him and downing half his beer in one go.

~(MMC)~

She sat on the steps, a bottle hanging between her fingers and watched the party go on around her. She smiled. She hadn’t felt this at ease in a while. She didn’t have these types of social interactions where she lived now. She had a few acquaintances she’d meet up for drinks with, but it wasn’t the same kind of camaraderie she felt here. It wasn’t all bad though. She had a core group. She wasn’t lonely. She just hadn’t taken the time to get as involved in new friendships.

She’d spent the majority of her night at Angel’s side. He kept good on his promise not to ditch her. That was until one of the club women made it known she wanted his attention. Leaving him to his fun, she found herself sitting on the steps of the clubhouse. She’d been introduced to everyone, officially as the Reyes’ brother’s cousin. It wasn’t wholly wrong. Chosen family and all that.

It didn’t take long for her to feel eyes on her though. Throughout the night she caught small glimpses of the quiet Mayan. Coco. The one she ran into at Angel’s. She still shivered at how cold he was until he figured out she wasn’t a threat, but it bode well for his character. In a strange sort of way. She didn’t fault him for the incident. He was protecting himself and potentially his brothers. She didn’t like that he held a gun up to her, but she understood his initial response.

Each time she glanced over at him; he was alone. No hangarounds draped all over him. Only conversation between him and his brothers. Or at least she assumed. She caught his mouth moving occasionally and the responses from the Mayans around him made her think they were speaking. She was never close enough to hear though. She never let her eyes rest long on him. Not wanting to draw his attention away from whatever he was focused on. However, he made her curious. Curious about him. Who he was.

She was pulled from her thoughts as EZ’s boots scuffed the step next to her leg. He dropped down to sit next to her, tilting a cold beer in her direction. She chugged down the dregs of her current bottle before taking the new one from him. He chuckled at her, grabbing her discarded bottle and setting the empty behind them.

She looked over at him, “Sooooo, prospect?”

He grinned, breaking into comfortable laughter and knocked her shoulder with his. She never thought she’d see the day that the studious Ezekiel Reyes would be prospecting for a motorcycle club. It never seemed to be his deal. Much more Angel’s lane. Not in a bad way. They were extreme opposites of one another, but perfectly so. It was one of her favourite things about the Reyes brothers. Their differences but how they complimented each other’s personalities. Angel always getting in trouble and EZ always managing to use his book smarts to get them both out of it.

“Not going to lie, I think I’m coming around to the whole leather aesthetic.” She smirked, “Between you and your brother, I’m getting it from all sides.”

EZ shrugged, and inclined his head in one direction subtly, “You might even be getting it from that angle too.”

She followed his incline and her eyes flicked over multiple people until her gaze met another one. His dark eyes were trained on her. That intense, hyper focus. All for her. She tilted her head to the side, meeting his stare head on. This was the first time they’d caught each other looking. She thought back on the one prior meeting they had. He hadn’t said much to her that day. A lot of nods, shrugs and half spoken words. It intrigued her. In an odd way. Made her wonder what it would take to make him talkative. Right now, however, he didn’t have a small gesture. He just stared. A subdued heat in his gaze. She wondered for what. For her? No. That was a wild thought.

“Is he always that quiet?” She asked EZ, still watching Coco.

His gaze never wavered from her and she felt a shiver forming. She licked the front of her teeth before taking another sip of her beer. She recalled the way he looked when she first met him. Shirtless. Covered in tattoos. His hair sopping wet but the slight wave forming near the ends. She wouldn’t lie to herself. He was good-looking. No, it was more than that. She was attracted to him. She found him hotter than most of the men she’d dated in the past. She chuckled internally to herself at that realization. She watched his mouth move, as he spoke with someone. She didn’t bother to try and see who, because if he was going to keep up this staring contest, she was game.

His tongue darted out along his lower lip before he brought the cigarette up to his mouth. He continued to speak around it. She watched each one of the muscles in his face contract and release as he spoke. She could almost hear his words from here. It was mesmerizing. Everything about him subtle. Striking, and calculated. Dangerous. Every move he made had a detailed thought process. She could tell by the way he carried himself. She admired the outline of his jaw. The crooked nature of his nose adding to his appeal. She liked him. She didn’t know him, at all. But she still liked him. Especially that hyper focus thing he had going. It made her feel seen. Read. In a strange sort of way.

EZ nodded in response to her and she caught the movement from the corner of her eye, “Yeah. He’s a bit odd around new people. Women especially.”

She laughed, turning briefly to shake her head at EZ, “That’s not exactly something a girl wants to hear.”

“He interested in you, or at least thinks you’re hot. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t care enough to pay any mind to you. He’ll never start the conversation though.” EZ said, “Go over there, get him to talk. Don’t even bother playing dumb. I’ve seen you watching as much as he’s been with you.”

She pushed EZ lightly, letting out a huff of disbelief, “Are you wingmaning him? You know he held me at gunpoint the first time we met?”

EZ burst into laughter, “Yeah, that sounds like Coco.” He took a moment to cool off before breathing in and continuing, “Like I said. He has a hard time warming up to new people.”

She shook her head. A wide grin on her mouth and laughing. She turned her hands out and sighed, “Great, that really gives me something to start with.”

EZ smirked at her sarcasm but raised his shoulders as if to say ‘why not?’. She rolled her eyes at him but placed her hand on his shoulder and used it as a support to hoist herself back up. She took the cold beer he had yet to open from him and walked down the steps. She spun around and stuck her tongue out at EZ as he winked at her.

She walked over to the table where Coco was sitting and dropped down into the empty seat across from him. She popped off the cap and slid the bottle across the table to sit in front of him. She looked around at the others at the table, but they all seemed otherwise occupied, so she directed all her attention on him.

“I figured you could use a refill.” She smiled at him.

~(MMC)~

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, she gravitated into his personal space. She was sitting next him, her body leaned beside his. It wasn’t in a flirtatious way. She was barely even touching him. Not like how the hangarounds approached him. It was relaxed. They were both watching the argument across the compound unfold. It wouldn’t be a Mayans party without someone getting into the ring. She was adding tiny little quips. Outlandish and hilarious one-liners.

He couldn’t help it. He was smiling. A genuine one. Not just the smirk. He watched her profile as she spoke. His eyes tracking the way her hands moved with every sentence. She was expressive in the way she spoke. Everything had emotion, passion. It was intense and he enjoyed that. What he liked the most was the way she wasn’t trying to impress him. All she was interested in doing was spending time with him. Being there. Being present. He honestly couldn’t remember when the last time anyone tried to befriend him for him. Aside from his hermanos.

She gave him the space he felt comfortable with. She never pushed anything out of him. She was patient and when he couldn’t find the words, she kept the conversation flowing. His chest rumbled with quiet laughter at her latest remark and she turned her head, hearing the sound. She stared at him; her eyes wide at his reaction. When she took in his smile and laid back posture she grinned widely at him. She gave him a wink before going back to the scene before them, continuing with her commentary.

He took a chance. He figured they were on the same page. Nevertheless, his heart still beat wildly in his chest. This wasn’t one of Vicky’s girls, or the hangarounds. She could easily turn him down. It was a terrifying reality. One he knew he wouldn’t handle well. The rejection. Either way, he swallowed and tried anyways. Propping his elbows on the table behind him, he inched one arm across the top of it and lined it behind her back. He glanced out of the corner of his eye, and she still hadn’t noticed.

He took in a silent but deep breath. Taking his time. Smoothing his arm across her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. She startled as he did it, flicking her eyes to his hand resting on her arm and then back up to him. He let his mouth curl into a grin, and she bit down on her lower lip. She shook her head, amused at his coy expression. She shifted her shoulders, lining her back into his front, getting comfortable.

He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, “Knew you’d warm up to me eventually.”

She threw her head back into his shoulder, laughing loudly. Both of them knowing it was exactly the opposite. He saw the affection in her expression as she turned towards him. She found him funny. She was sincerely laughing. His arm tightened around her, her excited energy lifting him up. He pulled her in tighter, his lips grazing her temple as he laughed with her.

~(MMC)~

With the help of the Reyes brothers and their lovely friends, the MC, they had her old house gutted, the important bits packed into a moving trailer and sold. She left after that. Making her way back up to San Jose to pack away the keepsakes. She kept up her regular contact with the brothers, adding one more to the rotation.

Her and Coco talked nearly every day. Even if it was just a quick ‘how you doing?’ and nothing more. She had no idea when it happened. It sort of just came to be. On its own. Neither of them planned for it. Nor did either of them push for something to happen. From exchanging numbers after that one club party. Texting led to calling and calling led to video chats. Which led to all-nighters. She hung on his every message, or call. Expecting them daily now.

After a couple of months, it became clear to both of them, that they hadn’t told Angel or EZ that they were talking to each other. Neither of them could agree why they did it. Only that they kept quiet because the other one still hadn’t mentioned anything. It was maybe the very first argument they had. Maybe even the only one.

Coco hated confrontation and she respected that. Whenever they got heated, which was often, they agreed to say goodbye before they got mad at one another. They always promised to come back to it when they’d cooled off. It worked pretty well. Gave Coco the time to think through what he was trying to convey and it gave her the time to calm down. Reevaluate what she was actually angry about and focus on explaining her point of view.

It was hard to define what their relationship was. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t really anything. Only two people in constant contact. She felt something for him, however she wasn’t sure it was real or not. They only ever spoke over the phone, aside from the one night in Santo Padre. That was the last time she saw him in person. The last time she felt his touch. She tried to reign in her own feelings. Not wanting to scare him away. She enjoyed their friendship, even if that’s all it stayed at.

They’d been talking to each other for a little over a year when he surprised her. She pulled into her driveway after work and spotted the Harley immediately. At first, she thought it was Angel, or even EZ, but when she looked up at her front porch, there he was. Sitting on the top step. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he watched her park. Her heart raced at his sudden appearance and she tackled him, much to his surprise.

She couldn’t explain the reaction, or well she could but wasn’t willing to admit it out loud. Not to him. They were friends. She wasn’t going to ruin that by dumping her feelings all over and making things messy. He laughed, her body pressing him down into her porch as she clung to him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed back. He forgot what it felt like to have her in his arms. Suddenly she was popping up, both her hands anchored on his biceps.

“Is everything ok?” Her brow was furrowed in concern as she asked.

He smiled at the worry and nodded his head to reassure her, “Everything’s fine, linda.”

She let out a sigh of relief and dragged him up and into her house. She whirled through the kitchen, getting them something to drink and pushing him down to sit on her couch. She began regaling him with the mundane ins and outs of her day. He sat through the whole tirade. Leaning against the back of her couch, one arm spread along the top as he smiled over at her. His legs were extended out in front of him, and she looked at him sitting there. In her living room. Like he belonged there.

Her heart palpitated at that thought. That he belonged with her. She hid the shiver that ran down her spine and laughed at the way he waved his hand as if to tell her she could continue with her monologue. She rolled her eyes playfully and swatted at him. Pretending to be annoyed by his coy gesture. She picked up on her speech, telling him everything. Her entire being filled with giddiness. She was gushing. Excited and happy that he was here. She missed him. It was like she was trying to make up for all the details she left out on their phone calls. She continued to talk, waving her hands around as she did.

At some point, when she’d gone off on a mini rant about something that irritated her, he stood up. She was pacing back and forth in front of the couch and when she turned back to continue in the other direction, he stopped her. He was staring down at her, his eyes dark and raw. She gulped; her own feelings being reflected back at her through his gaze. He framed his outstretched hand against the right side of her cheek and face. She shuddered obviously as he bowed his head towards hers. Her teeth pulling her bottom lip between them. He stared at the indentation her teeth were making in her lip and darted his gaze up to hers, looking for her approval. She gave him an encouraging smile and he dove in.

It was tentative at first. Both of them scared of the result. This was a moment where they could ruin everything. Her nerve endings exploded as his mouth caught hers. She reciprocated slowly, at first. Before pushing hard, tilting her head and giving him opened mouth kisses. Their tongues meeting and teasing each other. Her hands slid up his torso, fisting the fabric of his t-shirt as their embrace heated. She threw all caution to the wind. She wanted him. He wanted her. She broke away from him, grabbed the hem of her shirt and ripped it over her head.

“Fuck.” He swore, as she stood in front of him in her bra.

She had no idea how long he was here for. She knew the drive was long. She’d done it herself. If he was only here for tonight, then she wasn’t going to waste any time. She wasn’t going to let her self-doubt get in her way. He was here. For her. Alone. He seemed to be on the same course of thought because he was suddenly dragging her forward into him. His lips capturing her again, in another intense kiss.

Her hands dipped under the kutte, dropping it away from his shoulders and he caught it. Folding it half, he tossed it behind him, letting it hang over the arm rest of her sofa. He followed her lead, tugging his shirt off and tossing it down. The rush between them, heightening both their highs. They made quick work of the remainder of their clothes. Lips and teeth meeting several body parts as they tossed another garment away.

He was running hot kisses down her neck when he started backing up, bringing her with him. He dropped onto the couch, pulling her down and adjusting her over his lap. They both groaned at the contact. She rolled her hips, causing more friction and more urgency to their situation. He dropped his head back against the headrest, staring up at the ceiling as she ground against him. One less layer and they’d be one.

He palmed her thigh with one hand, smoothing it up to the line of her underwear on her hip. He tugged them down without warning and she shivered. They both smiled at the reaction. She hopped off him, kicking her underwear away and yanking his boxers off. She grabbed the back of the couch next to his head and straddled his lap.

She kept herself propped up, so their laps hadn’t connected yet. He growled up at her as she thread her fingers through his hair, pulling his head farther back. She loomed over him, both their smiles reflecting in each other’s expressions. She smoothed a hand over one side of his hair and knew in that moment she was screwed. This was her turning point and she didn’t care. She’d always want him. She tipped her head down and kissed him soundly.

One of his hands dropped away from her hip, to between her thighs. He swiped one finger through her folds, and she shuddered with anticipation. He circled around himself, lining up against her core and with a firm gaze between them, he waited. Without taking her eyes off him, she leaned back and sank down onto him.

They both let out breaths of constricted arousal. His came out as a deep groan while hers was a hitched gasp. Her hands splayed out over his shoulders. She used him to keep her steady and lifted to drop down onto him hard. His hips snapped up into hers as a reaction and they both cried out at the deep angle. They set a strong pace between them. She worked up a sweat as she flicked her hips into each one of his thrusts. Both of them working hard to get the other off.

She panted, looking down at him. His eyes were glued to the area where their bodies were connected. His fingers digging into her hips. She threw her head back, rolling deeper. A sigh of pleasure escaping from her. She felt herself reaching the edge. He noticed it as well and immediately lifted her off him. She moaned at the loss of contact and he let out a quiet huff of a laugh.

With his hands firmly repositioned onto her back, he tipped her backwards and down into the couch cushions. He hovered above her, admiring the mussed look of her hair. The flush on her cheeks. He drank in every inch of her face, committing everything to memory. He didn’t want to forget any of this.

“I got you.” He said, before kissing her hard.

He slipped back into her. Hiking one of her legs up over his waist and pushing the other one up to bend into her chest. He tilted her hips sideways, fitting between her perfectly. She cried out at the change in angle. He smirked. Proud of himself. For being the one to have her feeling this way. For being the one to illicit this type of response. He resumed a steady pace. Both of their bodies moving together. Each of them chasing their own releases.

The muscles in her abdomen tightened at the coming feeling. She dropped her head back, closing her eyes. Her release reaching its breaking point. She was about to boil over when one of his hands caught her chin and pulled her down to look at him. She was breathing erratically, unable to control it.

“Mírame, princesa.” He murmured, “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

“Coco,” She whined.

He lost his rhythm at the sound of her voice. He stilled momentarily before he gathered himself back and slammed into her. Several more times, harder than he had been before. Her body arched up into his while he slipped one hand to her lower back to balance her. She grabbed for him. Keeping her eyes on his. Her orgasm moments away. He felt her body tensing and he hit it harder. Wanting her to let go.

He reached his peak before her, cursing at the feeling and himself. He dropped a hand down into the junction between her thighs and circled that sensitive spot. She bucked up into his touch, crying out and rocking harder along him. He twitched with a satisfied groan. The feeling of her body coming apart while he was still buried deep in her sending him. He let go of her gaze, dropping his head to lay on her chest, working her nub until she was chanting out his name and spilling over.

He turned his cheek to press an open mouth kiss to her collarbone before they collapsed down into a heap on her couch. She wrapped her arms around him, cuddling him closer to her. He fit himself comfortably between the back of her couch and her side. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and felt his smile. They stayed there, connected and sated. Each of them breathing deeply, evening out their breaths. She could hold him like this forever. She never expected this in a million years, but damn was she glad it happened.

~(MMC)~

He was sitting around the bar with the rest of the club. They were winding down from another long day of meetings and dealings. He was reclining back in his seat, drinking a beer and smirking along with the conversation. He was constantly fading in and out of the conversation. He wondered if they needed him back home after tonight, or if he could make another detour up north for a night.

At the thought of her, he pulled out his phone and opened up their ongoing messages. He noticed she hadn’t said anything for a while, and it worried him slightly. Even when they were both busy, they both made an effort to at least check in. He was the last one to send a message and for fear of coming on too strong, he shut off the screen. He didn’t want to text again. He always worried about ruining the dynamic they built. Especially after that weekend two months ago.

He smirked at the reminder. Remembering how many times he had her. They’d stayed up the entire night. Learning everything they could about each other’s bodies. When the sun finally came up over the horizon, they succumbed to their exhaustion and curled up in her bed. He kept her close to him the entire time they slept. He didn’t have a lot of time with her, but he was determined to make it worth it.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the same hangaround crawling back into his lap. He glared at her as she did it. He’d told her multiple times throughout the night that he wasn’t interested. He considered just leaving her alone. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything with her. She could sit there all she wanted. She wasn’t getting anything out of him. He glanced around the table and noted that there were several empty laps. She had no business continuing to try and get into his.

He grabbed the woman by the back of her neck and put his lips to ear, “Find someone else to hang off of.”

His voice came out in a growl and in a show of defiance, she turned and straddled his lap. His hand fell down and brushed against her hip. He dropped his beer down on to the table and gripped both her hips, attempting to lift her off him when he heard a voice he wasn’t expecting.

~(MMC)~

She sped well over the speed limit. Her destination in sight. The map on her propped-up tablet, showing her the directions. She chuckled to herself at the lengths she’d gone to try and surprise him. When Angel accidentally let it slip that they were going to be in Vegas this weekend, it wasn’t hard to figure out where they were going to be. There were three possible casinos that were under Tribal law.

She’d already checked the first two. Inside and out, and no MC’s. Now she was speeding down the side roads to the other end of the strip. Third time’s the charm and all that. She pulled into the general parking lot and killed the engine. She did a quick glance around before grabbing her bag out of her backseat. She shifted the front seat all the way back and ripped her track pants off, switching them for a pair of ripped jeans. She adjusted her shirt and then did a quick touch up of her makeup. She grabbed her wallet and keys and stepped out of the car.

She stopped at the doors. This was definitely the right place. She could see the line of pristine chromed out Harley’s off to the left. If he could surprise her, it was only fair that she return the gesture. She pushed through the doors and scanned the main area. She spotted the bar and knew that that’s where he’d be. With a wide smile, she walked over to the area, stepping through the threshold and spotting the dozen Mayans kuttes. She moved towards the table but halted in her advance at what she saw.

Several emotions ran through her at the sight of him with his hands all over another woman. The one that stuck the most was how dumb she’d been. Had she really expected him to not take up with someone else. Whatever they had between them was clearly a long-distance thing. Long distance translated into not having a warm body next to him when he wanted it. She wasn’t there when he wanted something more than conversation. How had she managed to delude herself into believing he wasn’t exactly like the rest of them.

She never worried about Angel and his way with women. They’d never been anything more than friends. She never had to worry about him doing her wrong. There were no expectations between them. However, with Coco it was different. This was the first time she actually got caught up with a member. Giving her heart away to him. Whether he knew it or not.

“Coco?” Her voice rang out.

Surprising herself. She hadn’t meant to say anything. She was planning her escape. Ready to run and never speak to him again. All without him ever knowing about her shame. When he heard her say his name, he looked up. The shock at seeing her was clear in his expression. He tilted his head, unsure as to why she had an expression of hurt across her face when the woman in his lap shifted. She watched as the realization hit him. How bad it looked. He shoved the woman away from him and stood immediately.

Everyone at the table followed the sudden movement from him. Angel and EZ spotted her and were the ones to put together what was really happening. Her glare said everything. She spun around on her heel and fled the casino. Coco pushed away from the table and went after her. Angel and EZ not far behind him. The three of them exiting the glass doors together, to find her standing on the edge of the parking lot. Her hands wrapped around her torso. None of them moved. Each afraid to approach her for different reasons.

He watched her, standing there and holding herself together. He could see the shake in her shoulders, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her. Reassure that he had her. But he knew she wouldn’t accept it. Not now. He stayed behind her, unsure of how to handle the situation.

How did he explain that what she saw was nothing? Literally nothing. He barely even noticed the other woman there. The hangarounds were like that. All the time. He never paid them any mind. He didn’t care about them for the most part. Not when he had her. However, this wasn’t their normal, come back to it when they’re cooled off argument. They never discussed the real ramifications of their relationship. He never gave her a proper heads up. He never ran through the potentials, the rules. He’d been too wrapped up in everything else.

She didn’t plan to stick around. She wasn’t going to be embarrassed by anyone else noticing her. If he couldn’t explain himself, then she wouldn’t stay to be humiliated even more. She’d been naïve. Believing that things were different for them. She began to walk away when Angel shoved him aside, an irritated glare in his direction before chasing after one of his oldest friends.

EZ came to stand beside him, as they watched Angel stop her and gather her into a hug. They could both see that she was crying. A lump grew in his throat. He was the problem. He was always going to be the problem. Shit. She was better off without him. He heard EZ’s inhale but was grateful the prospect kept silent on the scene unfolding.

“I fucked up boy scout.” He muttered, before turning around and retreating back into the casino.

~(MMC)~

She sat on Angel’s front porch. She didn’t know why she was here. Or well, yes, she did but she figured it was too late. She made her bed. She muted his number. Ignoring him. She didn’t have it in her to delete it completely, but she knew the messages were still there. Sitting at the bottom of her inbox. She acted rashly. She could’ve given him the chance to explain. Maybe it wasn’t what she assumed. She wasn’t sure how it could’ve been any different than what she witnessed with her own eyes, but she held out hope. It didn’t help that he never tried. He never reached out to her. She checked.

The sound of a Harley roaring down the street had her heart doing double time. It’d been so long since she heard one. She knew it wasn’t Coco, but she had a glimmer of hope that maybe it was. The driver didn’t notice her, or at least didn’t indicate that they did as they pulled into the driveway. She knew it was Angel as he pulled to a stop and unbuckled his helmet.

He killed the engine and hung his helmet off the sideview mirror. He sighed as he looked over at her. He leaned back and crossed his arms. She knew he was mad at her, but she also knew he’d never turn her away. He pushed up off the bike and trudged over to her. Standing above her for a long moment while she peered up at him. With a final sigh, he turned.

“You alright?” He asked, sitting down next to her and lighting a cigarette.

She shrugged, “Not really.”

He let out a bitter scoff, “You two are a disaster.”

She creased her eyebrows together at the comment. He’d been here all of a minute, and she hadn’t even mentioned Coco.

He shook his head, “He’s been miserable since you two broke up, or whatever it is that happened.” He kicked his shoe against the bottom step, “Thanks for telling me, by the way. Were you planning to let anyone know? Or were going to keep sneaking around?”

She felt the anger exuding from Angel, and he had a right to it. In the months following Vegas, he never asked her about them. She knew he wanted too but he was smart enough to know that she was hurting too much. She also knew why he was mad at her. She’d never kept secrets from him. Neither had he with her. They knew everything about each other. She sighed. She knew his feelings were hurt. She felt bad but she also wouldn’t change anything about the time she had with Coco.

“I didn’t know how to explain it.” She muttered, “He was never really my boyfriend.”

“That’s a lie.” Angel scoffed, “Whether you two labelled it or not, it’s pretty clear what you meant to each other. I got it out of him later. He told me – showed me – how often you two talked.” He said the last word with quotations.

She threw her hands up in defeat, “I’m sorry Angel but how did you expect me to tell you something like that? Oh, hey, by the way. I’ve been messaging your boy for some time now. We call and talk to each other daily but he’s not my boyfriend? Would that have worked?”

He shook his head at her, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.”

They fell into a stressed silence. Both of them irritated at each other. She didn’t come to fight. Not with her best friend. The man she considered a brother. She inched across the step towards him and wrapped her hands around him.

“I’m sorry,” She said, “I don’t want to argue with you. I should’ve told you, but I was scared. Now that it’s over, there’s nothing to be scared about.”

Angel opened his arms and wrapped her up into him, “It’s not over. Not by a longshot. You haven’t been subjected to the hot mess that he’s been since you left Vegas that night. It’s been months and he’s still hung up on you.”

She chuckled, “I doubt that.”

“I mean it, prima.” Angel pulled back and looked down at her with a sincere expression, “He’s fucking miserable without you.”

She cowered away from Angel. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She caught him with a woman crawling all over him. How was he going to justify that? She had a vague understanding of the club and the way it worked when it came to the hangarounds, but that didn’t mean she was ok with the fact that he was getting on like that. She never would be and she figured that was a deal breaker. There was no changing that nature of the club.

“He fucked up. He knows it.” Angel murmured as he watched her thoughts cross her face, “At least hear him out. Then figure out where you two sit with this.” He looked down at the screen of his phone, noting the time. “He’s still on schedule at the yard. For another couple of hours.”

They looked at each other for a long moment when Angel smirked. He knew she wanted too but she felt torn. She came to see Angel, not Coco. She wanted her best friend. Someone who understood her and still loved her. He shook his head and pulled her into a one-armed hug. Letting her know that he got it. They had a slim chance at fixing this. He was okay with her ditching him this time.

“Go.” He urged her, “At least talk it out.”

~(MMC)~

He was sitting on top of the table, his feet shoulder width apart on the bench below him. He was slouched over, smoking and staring off into the distance. The sun was extra hot today and it was irritating him. Really bringing his mood to a horrible peak. Most of the boys had left him alone, sensing his growing temper.

He popped the smoke into his mouth, bowed his head and took off the snapback. He smoothed his hair down, tucking it back under the hat and out of his face. He ran his other hand down his face before grabbing the cigarette again and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

He tried his best not to think about her. He even went so far as to mute her number in his phone. On the off chance that she reached out to him. After a month of no contact, her name dropped from the top of messages to the bottom and stayed there. When he had a bad moment, he’d go back and reread some of their conversations. It helped, sometimes. Other times it made him even worse.

He’d been livid. The more he thought about it afterwards. Mad that she showed up out of the blue. However, that was short lived when he recognized the in-kind gesture. She was returning his surprise to him. It came from a good place. She only wanted to see him again. He wished she’d given him some kind of heads up though. It would’ve made things go a lot smoother.

He could still remember the way Angel rounded on him after she left Vegas. Him and EZ had retreated back to the casino, while Angel took her up to his room and let her sleep through the night. She left early the next morning. Meanwhile he drank himself into a stupor and wasn’t sure how he even made it back to his room in the first place. When Angel found him, he was beyond pissed. Eventually Coco explained it all to him. What was really going on. Apparently, she refused to even talk to Angel. Keeping mum until she finally fell asleep. Angel warned him to stay away from her. Lose her number even. He agreed with his brother. This was on him.

Now it was months later, and he was still wallowing. He wanted to apologize; he just didn’t know how. Even if she hadn’t already deleted his number, him sending any kind of message, or even calling, wouldn’t fix the hurt he caused.

At this point it didn’t matter that he had been trying to get the hangaround away from him. She’d still been able to weasel her way into the position in the first place and that was on him. He was used to it. It was how things worked around here. He hadn’t thought to explain that to her though. He hadn’t realized she didn’t fully grasp the club life. He could’ve made that easier on her. He could’ve tried to clarify it.

He shook his head and tossed his finished cigarette down into the dirt, snuffing it out. No matter now. He hopped off the table, the dirt kicking up around him. He turned back, making his way back farther into the yard to pick up where he’d left off.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been banging the metal bar but at some point, he became aware of someone calling his name. He glanced up to see Chucky trying to get his attention. He dropped the mallet in his hand and pulled off his gloves. He walked over, towards the office and raised an eyebrow at the man.

“There’s someone in there, said she was looking for you.” Chucky smiled.

Coco furrowed his brows. What she could be looking for him. He panicked, thinking it might be one of his baby mamas, but caught the movement in the window and recognized that silhouette. She was looking down at something and hadn’t noticed him yet. He gulped, his breath coming up short and glanced over a Chucky. Chucky gave him a happy shrug and held out a hand in the direction of the room.

Coco licked his lips and took slow steps towards the building. He paused at the entrance, taking a moment to watch her. He felt a strong emotion rise within him, but found it terrifying. He had no way to express it, not now. He knew for damn sure this wasn’t a moment to speak on it either. With an inhale, he moved forward.

“Hey.” He said, shutting the door behind him.

Her head snapped up as he spoke. Her eyes were wide, as if she was surprised, he came to see her. They stared at each other for a moment before he had to tear his eyes away. He couldn’t handle what he might find there. He avoided her direct eye contact, looking off to the side. She shifted on her feet, nervous at being here with him.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek before addressing him, “Angel said you’d be here.”

He nodded. That made sense. From the corner of his eye, he watched her wring her hands together. She was nervous. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be the reason she felt that way. He watched her, his eyes tracking every subtle shift she made. She wasn’t only nervous; she was agitated as well. That had his back raise. His temper already on the cusp of being igniting. Now with her here, throwing everything off axis.

“I – “ She stuttered and it caught his attention.

He snapped his head up fully to meet her eyes again. There were tears welling in the corners and she was fidgeting. He took a step towards her, inadvertently. She noticed the movement and unconsciously leaned in his direction. When she realized what she’d done she let out a scoff at her reaction. It pulled on her heart and she could form the proper words now.

Finding her resolve she tried again, on an exhale she spoke, “I don’t want this to be over.”

He stopped. His entire world freezing with her statement. He’d been expecting a fight. He was riled up. Prepared to start yelling. He was breathing heavily, staring at her. He couldn’t tell what her expression contained. There were too many emotions passing across her features. All he could tell was that she was being honest. Whether or not she was happy with her statement, he didn’t know. He licked his lips, creasing his eyebrows together. He didn’t want her to feel trapped. Trapped in the downward spiral he’d pulled so many other women into.

“Yeah?” He finally spoke.

It was a dumb question and he knew it. She wiped away at her tears and nodded. He was relieved she didn’t feel to call him out on his horrible response. He didn’t want it to be over either. He took another step towards her, waiting and judging her reaction. She didn’t flinch away from him. Giving him more confidence in himself with her. They weren’t shattered, only broken. They had the tools to mend things back. This time with the truth. He nodded, knowing exactly where he stood. It was her. He wanted her. He always had. Since the day she randomly showed up at Angel’s.

“I don’t want it to be over either.” He mumbled.

A sob bubbled up from the back of her throat as he let his stance known. He was quick to close the distance between them and pull her into his arms. He sighed as she leaned into him willingly. Her arms constricting around his middle. Strong and stable. She buried her face into his chest. Inhaling, memorizing his scent. Committing it to memory. The comfort she brought him, settling back in, like an old friend. A puzzle piece, fitting perfectly into his emotional make up. He felt her shift, turning her head to rest her cheek above his heart.

“I think I’m in love with you.” She whispered into the fabric of his uniform.

He tightened his arms in response, resting a hand on the back of her head and kissing her crown. He smiled. That emotion from earlier resurging and now he knew how to properly explain it. He could place it. For the real feeling that it was. It wasn’t the perfect declaration of affections, but it was start. It would help them get through the storms. Weather it out together.

He pressed his nose against her temple, murmuring into here ear, “I think I am too.”

#coco cruz x reader #coco cruz imagines #coco cruz imagine #johnny coco cruz #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc imagines #angel reyes #best friend!angel reyes #johnny coco cruz imagines #johnny coco cruz imagine

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darth-mendax · 4 years ago

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Mendax and the Wolffe: One-shot Fic

A/N: Yes, I made this a while ago, yes it’s dirty, and yes I did it for my enjoyment. I am sorry for making this.

WARNING: It’s a dirty fic, man. You know what you gotta watch for. Stay safe bois. Also, the clones are being nasty lil boys, especially Wolffe being feral

Word Count: 5k-ish

Pairing: Darth Mendax x Commander Wolffe, OC x Wolffe

Ahsoka, Maul and his new, previously Jedi love Eli, weren’t resting on the random forest planet when evening was approaching. Eli had decided to try and save a few new clones from the wrath of this new Empire born from Sidious. Cody was their first target, and were going to supposedly deliver him to Kenobi. I felt it wasn’t wise to bring Maul on that adventure, but Eli argued against my opinion. Wherever Eli went, Maul followed. Now, I was stuck sitting near a growing campfire and surrounded by a couple clones and their downed ships acting more as shelter. I’d only learned their names when we first got here a few days ago.

The clones were relatively easy to tell apart, thank the Maker. The only blonde there was Rex, formerly Captain of the 501st. He had a blonde buzzcut, a clean shave but stubble was close to growing in, and his legs looked like they could kick her head clean off.

Next was a brash clone of the 501st named Fives, easy to pick out from the tattoo of the number five on his temple. He had short hair like Rex, only he had black hair, as well and a goatee like beard. He’d been injured badly, but he was healing relatively fast.

Jesse was next, almost like a child of the 501st group (based on personality). He was playfully flirty to me at times, but overall, was like sunshine after rain. He had a large tattoo of the previous Galactic Republic on his bald head, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Like Fives, he was injured badly but was healing.

Gregor, one of the few who survived relatively unscathed and a republic commando, was a bit shorter than his brothers. He had longer black hair that was neatly styled, and stubble growing in like Jesse. Rumor had it that his hair was much longer once. He was built like a boulder though, with large shoulders and seeming a bit thicker in build than his other brothers. His gentle nature contrasted his look greatly.

Kix was probably the most average looking of all the clones, and their medic. Once in cryo after some mystery mission, got rescued by pirates a good while ago, now helping the injured that survived the Order. He had a short sort of haircut with black hair, and friendly brown eyes like the rest of his brothers. Only, his eyes seemed to be able to comfort anyone and managed to speak in the calmest voices possible.

Echo had a messy sort of story, and his appearance made that possible. His skin was slightly lighter than the deep tan of his brothers, and he had darkened eye sockets, like he was constantly sick (though he was perfectly healthy). Multiple scars could be seen on his head in a particular pattern, and black hair was coming in like the crew cuts of Rex and Fives. He had a handprint on his armor, which made him stand out. He was also practically stuck by Fives’ side at all times, including around the campfire.

The last one was Wolffe, the one clone I knew before the mess Order 66 had caused. He was very different from his brothers. He had a pink scar going over right eye, and in the eye socket was a white cybernetic eye (it made him almost seem like he was blind on that side). He had short black hair like many of his brothers there, but it looked most similar to Kix. He was probably the tallest, even if it was by little over an inch. He had a stubble shadow, like Jesse and Gregor. Like the wolves on Lothal, he was built to fight and it showed. His biceps were certainly the second largest, outranked by Gregor, and thighs able to crush skulls (if he wanted). Without his top half of armor on and relaxing in his blacks, there was the clear outline of abs on his waist. I wasn’t sure I picked that detail up. He nearly killed me when I first arrived with Maul, Eli, and Ahsoka. My eyes remained focused on the fire in front of me, memories flooding my brain.

It was done, the Order initiated and finished in only what seemed like an hour. My clothes were dirtied by dust and almost ratty. Maul was in his usual sith robe attire, minus the usual cloak that hid away his features. We were sitting at a small table in what was like a casual living room. Eli and Ahsoka were whispering to each other nearby, wiping away a few stray tears. This Order had killed many of their friends, and clones alike. Families were shattered and Sidious was to blame, me and Maul knew that for sure. Ahsoka nodded to Eli, and then walked up to the bridge of the ship. Eli fixed her neutral colored Jedi robes and turned to Maul.

“Lucky for us, our ship is arriving at the safety rendezvous soon. I’d be wary of a few clones, they may think you’re against them so. . . don’t act too aggressive.” Maul leaned on the heel of his hand and gave an expression similar to someone raising an eyebrow. “Eli my dear, I’m constantly fueled by anger, driven by spite and revenge for years. Being aggressive is my personality.” I didn’t care to speak or include themselves in conversation. I simply hid in the hood of my Sith robe and remained silent. Eli turned to me, “Hey Mendax, there’s one guy who you’ll know once we arrive. Though I’m not sure he’d be the most happy to see you. Not the biggest fan of Sith still.”

“Don’t humor me. I’m not looking to make friends.”

Eli scoffed, then rolled their eyes. “Alright, fine, sit and brood. But you better not say anything that will make you end up with blaster holes.” I chuckled, then looked Eli in the eye, “If that were to happen, I’d consider it a mercy.” The Jedi turned away and went to join Ahsoka Tano on the bridge. Maul sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re still hurting, I can sense it. . .”

“I just don’t understand. . . It feels cruel to live. To live in such darkness as overpowering as this. All the death he brought, to us, to the Jedi-”

“I know that’s not the real reason you’re upset, Mendax. . . Savage would want you to live on. He loved you, so dearly.” I was silent, then leaned on Maul’s shoulder. Maul slowly placed a gloved hand on my head. He wasn’t one to regularly give comforting touch, but this. . . this was nice.

“Things will change now, and we’ll move past Sidious’ plans.”

When we were introduced, almost all the clones had aimed their guns at us. Wolffe seemed a bit hesitant to aim at me though, instead aiming at Maul. A few good sassy remarks were thrown, but we all agreed no more killing was needed. Wolffe still kept a close eye on me as days went on, however.

Jesse’s laughter tore me from my thoughts and into his conversation. All of the clones seemed happy, or amused. I glared at them and asked, “What’s so funny, boys?”

“Oh, nothing Mendax. We’re comparing body count and the comments made about us.” Body count? Was this a sick count of all the enemies killed? Fives made an impression of what sounded like a moan, then said, “Oh Fives, you know just how to please me!”

“No way! There’s no way you can please a woman with as rough as a hand like yours!” Nope, definitely not an enemy body count.

My face felt a little hot once I’d realized. I guess I should’ve known that soldiers like clones had needs. They weren’t Jedi so sexual acts were more. . . allowed? Wolffe was the only one who wasn’t talking about who fucked the best or how many men or women they spent a night of pleasure with. Feeling a little bothered plus warmed by the fire, I removed the cloak from around my body.

Fives was the first to try and get Wolffe to join in. “Hey, Wolffe! What’s your body count, hmm? I bet it’s a high one, what with the ‘rugged charm’ I’ve heard some women say about you.”

Wolffe grunted, taking a drink from a small cup he held in one of his hands. Fives went on, “Grunting is not usually an acceptable answer to a question, Wolffe.”

“It is now,” Wolffe replied, eyes landing on me as I sat across from him by the firepit. His gaze seemed to soften, and then he went back to staring at the contents in his cup. Fives decided not to push further, but rather turn to me. “And what about you, Mendax? Did the great Sith lord ever get any love?~”

“As much as I admire the Sith and their passions, we never really see many who use passion in a sense that they fight for someone. Most use passion more as ambition, seeking power and their way.”

“I asked if you had a boyfriend once, not your philosophies,” Fives said, rolling his eyes. I scoffed, and glared at him, “No, does that satisfy your curiosity? I had no one. All I had was Maul to oversee my progress and Savage to. . . to make me feel less lonely.”

“Define less lonely. . .”

Jesse shoved Fives, “Shut up. She’s obviously never had a boyfriend.” Wolffe turned his gaze to me again; I couldn’t tell what emotion was behind his eyes. A few of the brothers muttered to each other, then turned to Wolffe. He caught on to the staring and sneered, “What?”

“So are you going to tell her, or. . .?” Wolffe gave a low growl at Kix. He practically barked at him, “Know your place, soldier. And stop your insane claims.” Kix held his arms up in surrender, and smiled, “Just saying, Commander.” Rex rolled his eyes, then lightly shook his head. Clearly, the captain was getting just as annoyed as Wolffe was at his men. I couldn’t really blame him. Darkness was swallowing the forest around us; Rex added more logs to keep the fire burning.

“So, what’s the sleeping situation, boys? Since the generals and Maul are gone?” Gregor had asked, his meek voice coming through with the brief silence. Echo wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “I already figured it out for you.” He pointed at one of the ships, the largest one of them all. “That one will hold me, Fives, and Rex,” he said. Echo then pointed to the smaller ship next to it, saying, “That one there will be for you, Jesse, and Kix.” The smallest ship there was a simple cruiser, but good enough for a few people to live on, and it was the one Echo pointed to next. “That ship there is where Wolffe and Mendax will be,” he concluded. Rex started to snicker to himself, and tried to cover it with one of his gloved hands. “Something funny, Captain?” Wolffe asked. Rex replied, “No no, it’s nothing. Just laughing at the arrangements.”

“And why is that?”

“You’ll have a ship alone with Mendax. And I don’t want to ruin the moment for the two virgins.”

Wolffe growled loudly at Rex’s comment, clenching the cup tightly in his hand. His voice lowered dangerously low, “How about you shut it, Captain? I’m sure you men would hate to see their leader suddenly get a black eye and busted lip.” Rex squinted at Wolffe, “You think your strength could save you there? You believe that you can take on the Captain of the 501st in a fist fight?”

“Oh, I know it would. My squadron regularly fights in the dirt, so what makes you think this will end with you winning against me.” The two brothers got up and stood in front of each other, Wolffe glaring slightly down at Rex and teeth bared. Rex seemed relatively calm, but a sneer was forming on his features. “How about you prove it, Commander?” Rex challenged. Wolffe stiffened and clenched his fists tight. The two of them raised their fits, ready to fight then and there. Hearing enough banter, I got up and decided to stop the impending fight.

“SILENCE! If you keep bickering, I’ll give you all a good reason to shut up!” The flames of the fire flared, and burned bright for a few moments. Silence followed my shout, besides the cracking of the firewood.

All the clones looked at me in shock, Jesse’s, Kix’s and Fives’ faces all slowly turned to smiles as they looked at Wolffe. He was staring at me, eyes wide and blinking as if he was processing what had happened. I could only imagine that my eyes changed, a little side effect of being Sith. If I was angry enough, they looked just like Maul’s. Rex sat down next to his men, “Sorry Sir.” I huffed, calming down and rubbing the back of my neck. Wolffe made a rumbly noise in the back of his throat, before stomping off. Gregor called out to him, “Where are you going, Wolffe?!”

“To relax! And hit the refresher!” The rest of the clones made attempts to bring Wolffe back, but it was in vain. He’d already entered the ship, and disappeared from view. I sat back down by the fire, hearing the clones burst into some sort of shanty, and had their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was touching, to see them still act like family even after everything. It was almost like Order 66 didn’t happen. But it did.

The moons of the planet were well in the sky, and it’d been nearly an hour since Wolffe went into the ship he and I would supposedly share. The fire was dying, as was the nightly commotion. There was less energy, less blood flowing through the clones’ veins. Growing restless of being quiet while the clones talked amongst themselves, I got up and put my cloak on. I mumbled, “Heading in for the night. . .” before trudging over to the shared ship. I stretched my limbs and back, beginning my walk towards the beds. There were at least five rooms, each one with a decently sized space and bed. Making my way down the hall, I passed by the way leading to the refresher. I paused, hearing that it was still on. “Wolffe must like long hot showers,” I thought to myself. I was about to walk on, when I heard quiet grunting, then what sounded like mumbling.

“Mendax-” I heard, barely heard over the water running in the refresher. A few curses followed, and I felt a bit of panic. Did he hurt himself? Did he know I was here? I slowly walked through the small locker room, seeing Wolffe’s armor and blacks resting on a bench. Moving past them, I peeked into the refresher room.

It was a line of refreshers in glass stalls on the opposite wall from the entrance. The floor was tile, leading into the locker room. Only one of the refreshers had their door closed, somewhat clouded up with steam. The amount of steam in the room made the air humid, and I was sure that my hair was starting to puff up with it. There was a towel on a hook nearby said refresher. Moving closer, but out of view, my face heated up as I looked at what was in front of me.

Wolffe was still in the refresher, but certainly not injured. His eyes were screwed shut, brow furrowed and biting his bottom lip. He was naked of course, water washing over him and moving down his body. Leaning against one of the tile walls of the refresher, one of his arms rested against the wall he leaned against, and his other was in front of him. He had hair on his chest, leading down to a nice trimmed happy trail leading down to his cock, where his hand was a bit. . . busy. He groaned again, his hand wrapped around his cock and moving faster. Wolffe’s head leaned back against the tile, his mouth slightly open now as a soft moan past his lips. He was close, very close.

“Fuck- Mendax~, I want you so bad~. . . Make me feel so good.” Wolffe’s voice was lower by an octave or two, rumbling and lustful.

I’d be lying if that didn’t cause some sort of feeling between my legs. He was so vulnerable, and definitely not bad to look at. We had had our differences before and were becoming something of friends, but this? It was a little unexpected.

Scrambling to get away, I made the mistake of kicking his helmet. It made a clatter that echoed through the whole of the locker room. Ashamed that I’d be caught. I hid behind the small wall of lockers in the middle of the changing room. The noise of the refresher being on stopped, and there was silence. Very tense silence. I heard the sound of bare feet walking on the tile, moving to where Wolffe’s armor was. They stopped, and the silence returned. He was behind the lockers, where I was hiding. Suddenly the footsteps sounded like they moved away and out to the hallway. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Slowly, I moved around closer to the refresher room and towards the edge of the locker wall. I peeked around, and looked for Wolffe. He wasn’t there, but his armor was still on the bench. That was odd. . . I turned back and collided with something solid and damp.

I pulled away and found myself staring into a pair of eyes, one an amber like brown, and the other a pale cybernetic white. I froze, and felt immensely flustered. Wolffe had a towel wrapped low around his hips, the happy trail disappearing under the soft white cloth. A few droplets were still moving down Wolffe’s body, and he felt very warm, even just by being so close to him. His cheeks were reddened, and a blank expression on his face. I gulped, swallowing down my nervousness and composing myself.

“What are you doing in here?” Wolffe asked, his voice low and rumbly like he was in the refresher. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, “Was wondering why you were taking so long in the refresher.” Wolffe didn’t seem to buy my reasoning. He leaned down, trapping me with his hands on either side of my head.

“Really? And you didn’t hear anything?” I shook my head, not bearing to look Wolffe in the eyes. “Liar,” he growled out. He knew, of course he knew. One of his hands grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him.

“Look at me in the eye.” My eyes moved back to lock on Wolffe’s. His human eye was blown with lust, brown being swallowed by inky, hungry black. I found myself looking at his lips, and the feeling between my legs returned. Wolffe tilted my chin up, “I’ll be honest with you. When you said you’d give us a reason to shut up, my mind went to. .. less than innocent ideas. And I couldn’t sit with them all when you were right there and looking so . . . delicious.” I let out an exhale through my nose, and dared to ask, “Like what? Hmm?”

Wolffe let out a guttural growl, and the hand holding my chin moved down to my neck. He gave a light squeeze as his lips moved to whisper in my ear. “I want you to shut me up and kiss me until I forget my fucking name. . . I want to swallow all of your moans into my mouth, know the taste of your lips. I want to feel your tongue, and maybe stop your snark for once.” My thighs were twitching with his words; he didn’t even stutter. My hands found their way on his back, and I raked my nails down the muscle. “Would you like that? Would you like to have me?” he asked. I quietly replied, “I’ve never wanted anything more than that right now. . . but I don’t know what to do. . .”

“Then I’ll show you. . .” Wolffe’s hands found their way to my thighs and he picked me up with ease. He carried me down into the hallway and opened one of the doors leading to a bedroom. I was carried right to the bed, and the door closed behind him. It was doubtful that anyone would come barging in, so there was not much reason to lock it. He was already trying to take off my robes as he carried me, rushed kisses being pressed to my jawline. Wolffe was desperate, and the desire coursing through him was infectious.

His lips crashed against mine once my back hit the bed, and my legs were wrapped around his hips. They were softer than I anticipated, and much more intoxicating than I believed kisses should be. I felt drunk, limp as Wolffe pushed his tongue into my mouth and hands explored under my now messy robes. He made quick work of the top half of my clothing, almost ripped them in the process. Wolffe’s lips moved down to my neck; my head moved to the side so he had better access. A rumbling noise went through his chest like a building growl and he bit down into the flesh of my neck. He bit hard enough that I whined at the pinching pain. My feeble attempts of squirming were stopped by the weight of Wolffe moving on top of me: one of his thighs between mine, and hands pinning my wrists down. The gesture of biting and leaving dark bruises on my neck was repeated until my neck and collarbones were littered with the marks like a night sky, varying in size and color. Taking his time and kissing back up to my mouth, Wolffe gave me a tender, sweet kiss.

When he pulled away, I felt cold and my lips felt like they were buzzing. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, in honesty. . .” Wolffe muttered, eyes looking over my face and his handiwork. His hands cradled my face lightly, like a feather caressing my skin. The innocence and purity of the gesture was lost when his thumb brushed over my lips and lightly tugged my bottom lip down. I opened my mouth and he pushed his thumb in, groaning as it was coated in my saliva. “Such a pretty little mouth,” he mumbled.

Wolffe pulled his hand away, then moved to pull off my pants. He started breathing heavily once he had a glance at the mess between my legs. “Fuck, you’re soaking,” was what he said. Without another word, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and knelt between my legs. Moving them so they rested on his shoulders, Wolffe began to mark up my thighs just like my neck. The feeling between my legs was starting to become unbearable, and I was aching to be touched. “You know, you could stop teasing and get to the point,” I grumbled. Wolffe responded by a smack on my thigh, looking up at me. The scene in front of me was sinful, and I thought it was all a dream since it seemed too good to be true.

“You want me to get to the point?” I nodded.

“Then I won’t stop til you’re begging,” he replied before moving his head down.

The feeling was heavenly, Wolffe’s tongue working through my folds and up to my clit. My hands found their way into his thick hair, tugging on his short black locks. He groaned at the action, then focused on working my clit. My body was twitching, and my back began to arch off of the bed. “Fuck- Oh Maker- Wolffe~!” were just a few of the words that spilled from my mouth out of pleasure. I tried to push him even closer, digging my heels into his muscular back and my thighs squeezing his head. It was almost embarrassingly fast how close I got in a matter of seconds, and my orgasm came with little warning. The pleasure was white hot, I felt like I was floating and my moans filled the room. Wolffe worked through it, and even a moment after I’d come down from the blissful high. My legs were twitching, and in the pale dim lights that were on in the room, I saw Wolffe look up at me with a smug look and my wetness on his chin. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and hummed, “My assumption was correct, you do taste delicious.” I sighed and flopped back against the bed to catch my breath.

“Maker above, that was nice. . .” Wolffe chuckled at my comment.

“It’ll get better.”

“Hm?” I looked down to see Wolffe taking off his towel and his cock ready for attention. He was big, as far as I could tell. Moving himself closer, Wolffe held onto my legs and I felt him nudge my core. “I’ll go slow, ok?” His voice was quiet and gentle again. I pulled him down into a quick kiss, and gave a soft smile. “I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Wolffe gave a short nod and held onto my waist. He pushed himself in slowly, and his jaw clenched tightly as he did. A struggling groan came from his mouth, and was joined by a weak moan of mine. Once fully in, he was panting and practically laying on top of me. Wolffe was cursing under his breath, resting his forehead against mine. “This feels- mm fuck- way better than I imagined. . . Fuck me, you’re killing me over here,” he managed to rasp out. As if I wasn’t aroused enough, his praise pushed me even further.

I held his face in my hands, watching as he looked at me with a half-lidded, dazed gaze. “You can move now,” I said. He didn’t move at first, and I was about to tell him again until he interrupted me.

With a voice lowering a good few octaves, he asked, “You want me to move, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes.” My impatience was getting to me.

Wolffe gave a grin, “Then beg.”

I could only assume I made a somewhat amusing shocked expression, because Wolffe chuckled. “You heard me, beg for me to move,” he said. I didn’t want to, at first. After all, I was a Sith and he was just a clone. I could’ve overpowered him and take control easily, yet I didn’t. My desire was getting the best of me, and I could barely move from underneath him. So I begged for Wolffe.

“Please- Please move, I need you.”

“Please who? What do you call me, sweetheart?” This was near torture at this point, but I went along.

“Please Sir. . . Please move~.” He smiled again, and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

“There’s my good girl~.”

Wolffe moved slowly, but Maker did it feel great. The slow drag of him against my walls was enough to make me start digging my nails into his shoulders. He wasn’t patient though; soon he was sitting up and setting a brutal pace. I was moaning, loud enough to probably end up being heard from the hallway. Wolffe’s brow was furrowed, but the smug grin on his face told me that he was enjoying having power over me. “Moaning like a bitch for me, and I’m the only one who can do that, right?~ Only I can make you moan and desperately beg~.” I tried to growl at him, to try and show that I didn’t like the degradation. My body betrayed me, and I could only moan and try to move in response instead. He was growling and panting, keeping his pace and his gaze staying on me. “Look at you, covered in my marks and bites. Kriffing beautiful and all mine to look at~. All fucking mine~.” Given that biting seemed to be the way he showed his affection, it was no surprise that it came with possessiveness as well. When one of his hands came down to rub my clit, I was already close again.

“Maker- Wolffe, Sir- I’m so fucking close-”

“You close? You wanna make a mess all over my cock? You wanna beg for me to make you finish?”

All of the pride and dignity I had was long gone by then, and of course I begged. Of course I said, “Yes, please! Please, Sir!” I was glad he was so merciful. He replied, “Now, you can finish.” And I did, shaking and grabbing at the sheets. I heard myself almost yelling, and I’m pretty sure I screamed out Wolffe’s name too. Wolffe’s pace stuttered, and began to get sloppy. Not a few moments later, he finished as well, spilling himself inside of me and throwing his head back in bliss. He made what sounded like a groan, or maybe he was biting back a moan. Either way, we were both very satisfied by the end.

In a dazed and half awake state, we managed to fix ourselves under the sheets and get comfortable. I found myself clinging to Wolffe’s side, resting my head on his chest as his arm was wrapped around me. His thumb traced small circles into my back. A realization came to me that night; I’d fallen for him. Badly. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then, but I knew I would when the time was right. With fatigue pulling at my eyelids, I curled up next to Wolffe and slept soundly for the first time in a good while.

Bonus:

The clones were heading to their ships for the night, but they made a decision to just crowd the ship farthest away from Mendax and Wolffe. In a crowded and simple room with bunks, the clones whispered to each other. “I told you it would happen, now pay up!” Fives whisper-yelled to Echo. Echo begrudgingly handed him a few credits, and huffed. Jesse was also passing credits in the dimness. Rex sat up slightly and rubbed his eyes, “Men, what are you doing?” Fives gave a half-hearted laugh, “I’m surprised you slept through it. Wolffe and Mendax just did the deed. I made a bet that they would do it tonight, so now the boys owe me. Well, except you and Gregor.” Fives looked over to Gregor, who was busy hiding his head under his pillow. “I think he’s scarred for life,” Jesse added. Kix interrupted, “Yeah yeah, you won. Now can we sleep?” “They should be done now,” Fives replied. Rex rolled his eyes and went back to sleep.

“Go to bed, boys.”

“. . . Yes Sir.”

There was a brief silence, and a moment of peace.

“. . . Should we tell them we heard?”

“No way, Jesse. They’d kill us.”

“. . . What if we told Maul and Eli when they get back, Fives?”

“They’d kill them, well, Maul would.”

Another silence.

“. . . Who do you think started it?”

“GO TO BED, BOYS!”

“Sorry, Rex. . .”

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