#my own OC gave me body envy help | 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.

141 notes · View notes

selfships-in-spanish · 4 years ago

Text

Okay I can finally post about this AU me and @spirit-in-the-library have been working on like two cackling and scheming gremlins ❤

Who is ready for an Arranged Marriage!AU? :D This is gonna be a wild ride.

This is an idea I originally had for Ona and Connor but it didn't quite fit in what I had in mind, so I left it until I could find how to make it work. Then Eva and Erwin came and it clicked together perfectly 👌So, me and my friend @spirit-in-the-library humbly present this AU!

We got Erwin, Eva, Freyja (her OC, a total badass and I love her) and Levi all suited up for this adventure. I'll put a read more!

Eva comes from the kingdom of Gottesreich, a heavily religious and conservative kingdom where its King is always looking to expand territory and gain power, as well as bring the true word of God to the less advanced territories (he's a fucking asshole). It's a patriarchal monotheistic religion culture and kingdom, and definitely has some Adam and Eve-style enforced gender dynamics ingrained into the culture.

This reflects heavily whenever she is in front of other men and also of high status; she never speaks, only if asked and even in such situations she's afraid to give her opinion, conditioned to not do that by her father. To their eyes, Eva is the perfect Princess, her strict governess and her own father made sure of that. She knows how to act, what to say, what not to say, how to elegantly walk and bow, even has diplomatic knowledge, since she travelled quite often with her brothers when they had to do their own diplomatic missions. She's the perfect asset to any Kingdom and her father knows it pretty well, she's valuable and he has to gain something big in return of trading her.

So, this leaves Eva who has practically no self-steem or sees her own value but to be a bargaining chip, and it's heartbreaking. When Erwin sees her and gets to know her a little bit better, he knows she has a curious and inquisitive mind too, her eyes shine with intelligence when she thinks no-one is looking. She has a lot to say on her mind but years of toxic parenthood and the Kingdom's twisted values makes her keep her mouth shut, head bowed down.

The cultural shock between Eva's culture and Erwin's tribe renders Eva speechless. Men and women are equal, women can do whatever they want, can be warriors, and also worship three benevolent Goddesses (Maria, Rose and Sina), deeply respect nature and try to maintain balance and harmony the best of their capabilities. Eva's mind is blown.

Erwin is the Chief of the proud Warriors of Eldia, often labelled as demons by their enemies who have faced them in battle. They are depicted as blood-thirsty horned devils who have no mercy, when this couldn't be farther from the truth. Erwin is proud of his people, so he's the perfect example of the true poise and demeanour of a proud warrior. Kind of following the canon, he's extremely intelligent and clever, respected by his warriors and people, and is always scheming huge and even intricate plans, making his famous big gambles (like making an alliance with Eva's brother's to help them overthrow their corrupt father and keep their sister safe under the pretence of a marriage ;D). People often think Eldia is only a tribe of savages, but they couldn't be more wrong about it. They want to be left in peace and do their thing without being bothered.

He makes a personal vow to bring Eva to her fullest self, angry at the way they wilted a beautiful flower from its full bloom. Erwin acknowledges her intelligence and vehemently wants to know her opinion on things, strategies and the village's concerns.

Still with the Eldians, Levi is Erwin's right hand man, the second in command, and is not afraid to speak his mind and call on Erwin's bullshit quite often. He's crass and harsh, but deeply cares for the tribe and its people. He is small compared to other Eldian males, but he compensates with a sturdy body and almost insane reflexes and agility. He's fast, precise and terrifying with a sword. He makes a perfect assassin if needed, but also a fearsome warrior that has nothing to envy the big bulls they have in their army as soldiers.

He is also in charge of training troops, and often barks at the brats (the 104th) to stop being idiots and train like Maria is on their asses.

And at last, Freyja! Gottesreich decided to expand territory and colonise and annex the neighbouring villages and small kingdoms, and one of them was Freyja's one. She survived and fled, ending up as a refugee at the tribe of warriors of Eldia where they gave her food and a roof, but not after Erwin pulling strings to keep her head on her shoulders; he recognised her value as a warrior herself after taking down several of his men, and it would be a pity to lose such an asset. Freyja is terrifyingly good when teamed up with Levi, although they bicker and bite at each other constantly.

But she won't forget the absolute massacre carried on her people because Eva's father deemed heretics those who wouldn't convert. So, she's quite bitter towards Eva, and refuses to be her bodyguard and teacher of Eldia's culture and language when she is appointed as such by Erwin. They start a very rocky path but they become inseparable at the end.

WHEW CONGRATS ON FINISHING READING ALL THIS! We got many things planned and I'm already writing things 👀

I hope you like it!

Enjoy! :D

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #erwin smith #commander erwin #erwin smith x oc #levi ackerman x oc #erwin smith x reader #aot #snk #aot oc #snk oc #aot ocs #arranged marriage au #queen of demons #art post

196 notes · View notes

buckysrighthanddoll · 4 years ago

Text

Envy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader, Bucky Barnes x Savannah (OC)

Warnings: envy, jealousy, angsty implications, sexual implications (nothing actually described), fluff of course :)

A/N: So I’m fully aware that I haven’t been active on my blogs recently, and I’m sorry for that. Since the beginning of quarantine, I’ve been in a very rough family situation and had to move houses as a result. This one-shot will (hopefully) be the start of a series on the seven deadly sins; please give feedback and let me know what y’all think!

You weren’t new to the team. It was now 2018 and you were part of the original Avengers--you had fought in the Battle of New York and against Ultron. People have come and gone and died and retired; it was rarer to find someone who stayed and it was even rarer to attach to someone who was on the team.

Bucky Barnes was that rare, rare exception.

When he came along, your thoughts raced a million miles a minute. He was the Winter Soldier, after all, and you didn’t know how his recovery process was going to come along. You met him when he was in Romania--you fought him for a brief moment before he realized that you and Steve weren’t the bad guys, actually.

It was Steve’s idea to have you stay in Wakanda with him as sort of a caretaker. You had close contact with the team, even though you and Tony weren’t on the best of terms after the Accords, but you were also a hut away from Bucky. It was here where you fell for each other. Seeing him in the fragile yet strong state, the intimate moments as you both stared up at the stars, the kindred walks through the woods, it all made you fall.

Luck would have it that he fell twice as hard. You were caring and compassionate and, most importantly, patient and understanding. Growth was not linear, and you knew that. Being there for Bucky sometimes meant leaving him to his own business, but it also sometimes meant holding him while he sobs after having another nightmare.

You and Bucky had been an official couple for two years and five days. There were definite ups and downs to the relationship--Bucky was the most sincere and thoughtful man you had ever loved, but when the two of you fought, it was like hell on Earth. It could last a few hours or even a few weeks (three weeks, six days, and twenty-one hours was the current record). But, despite having a couple of massive fallouts and many, many bickers over safety during missions, you were a strong couple.

Never in the last two years had you been insecure, until she showed up. Her name was Savannah, and she was stunning in every sense of the word. Shiny chestnut hair, striking grey eyes, the perfect face, an even better body, the laugh that lit up the whole room--for fuck’s sake, even her powers were beautiful with her. She could shoot fire and water from her hands, but she did it in the way that made her seem elegant and graceful and--ugh.

Besides that, everybody on the team adored her. Steve had a crush on her, and you were pretty sure Sam did, too. Hell, even Nat seemed interested in her. The world seemed to revolve around her, and she knew that. And, lately, it seems like James Buchanan Barnes was wrapped around her perfect finger.

The insecurity started when she first moved in. Savannah was a late riser in comparison to most of the team, but that didn’t stop her from being so damn beautiful. During team breakfast, she came in twenty minutes after everybody else had sat down in a loose t-shirt and the shortest pair of shorts to ever exist on earth, and her hair was pulled back messily into a bun. Even without makeup, she was stunning.

She sat right next to Bucky with a plate half-full of food--part of her diet plan to stay in shape, you think she said (you looked at your now empty plate and couldn’t help but feel that perhaps you should also watch what you’re eating). She struck a conversation with him, and they held it for the entire meal. Rolling your eyes and making eye contact with Sam, you stood up and took your plate to the kitchen before getting down to the gym.

“New girl got your panties in a twist?” Sam asked a few minutes later. You tore your attention away from the punching bag and faced him, a scoff leaving your lips.

“Guess so.”

“You ain’t gotta be jealous,” He said, taking your hands. He takes a glove off of one of them. “Bucky loves you more than he loves his damn cereal in the morning.”

That earned a laugh from you.

You took off the other glove, and he motioned to the mat in a silent request to spar. You both worked out, and he took you down a couple of times before you were able to get the upper hand on him.

“That’s my baby,” Bucky sang as he entered the room. Your head turned toward him, looking like a Greek god in a tight shirt and workout shorts. Your eyes also caught Savannah walking in with him, but you tried your best to ignore her. “Wilson has nothing on you, sweetheart,” He adds as he comes to the edge of the mat.

“I took her down three times before you waltzed your metal ass in here,” Sam scoffed. You laughed and got up, going to the edge of the mat where your boyfriend was. He puts his hands on your hips and you reach for the back of his neck to pull him into a chaste kiss.

“You wanna go?” He asked you, nudging his head toward the mat. “I was gonna train Savannah, but I really want to lay some moves on you,” He smiles, wiggling his brows slightly.

“Oh my god, you are such a perv,” You joked, backing up to the center of the mat. “Come on, baby, show me what you got.”

It was a light spar, especially in comparison to how you normally fought each other. It was full of laughs and teasing moments, like right now. He had you pinned down, his hands wrapped around your wrists and his knees on either side of you. You glanced between his lips and eyes, and you caught him leaning in, but at the last second you flipped him over and pinned him down. He gave you a shocked look, but you just smiled up at him.

Of course, he didn’t let you win. He flipped you back over, but this time so that your face was planted against the mat. He holds your wrists behind your back and straddles your thighs, making you laugh. “Well, this reminds me of something,” You remarked.

“Dude, gross,” Sam said. Bucky got off of you and offered you a hand up, which you gladly took. “Okay, we gotta get this girl started. How about you fight (Y/N) first, Savannah?” Sam suggested. She nods her head and smiles cockily, stepping onto the mat. “No powers this time,” He tosses in.

The two of you go in circles for a moment, waiting to see who’s going to strike first. She looked confident, but you were a trained fighter in S.H.I.E.L.D., top of the recruits, and nearly beating out every single agent of experience. She had nothing on your physical fighting skills.

“You gonna fight me or are you just gonna stand there?” She taunted.

“Taunting gets you nowhere, dollface,” You smirked. You continued in another half-circle before she lunges. It was an easy dodge, just a simple side-step and kick, and she was thrown off balance. Her arms fly out to the sides to catch her balance, so you grabbed one and used it as leverage to flip her over you. Once she was on the ground, you straddled her and pretended to snap her neck, which indicated the end of the first spar. “Don’t ever let your emotions get the best of you in a fight,” You told her, getting up.

This continues for a couple more rounds, each time she gets her ass handed to her, but she does get better. Sam left by the time you both stopped fighting.

“Can’t I fight Bucky? Most of our opponents are male,” She asks, smirking slightly. It was abundantly obvious that she had a distaste for you, but it was completely reciprocated, so you weren’t bothered.

You and Bucky switch places, and she’s not doing well at all, even when Bucky goes easy on her. You could tell that she was faking being bad at fighting; she made it clear every time Bucky pinned her or straddled her and she gave him ‘the look’.

“Okay, let’s be done. I’ll get Steve to train you,” Bucky says, stepping off the mat. He gives you a side hug and a kiss to the cheek, eliciting a smile. “Do you wanna shower with me?” He asks. “We’re both pretty sweaty.”

You nod your head, choosing to ignore the death stare that Savannah was giving you.

_____

After that, you catch her trying to go after Bucky a little more. She started waking up at the same time as him and drinking coffee with him in the kitchen, she asked Tony to be placed on missions with him, she made it a point to not include you in conversations with him.

The worst part was that Bucky didn’t stop her.

It wasn’t like he was adoring the attention that he was getting from the both of you, but he most certainly wasn’t hating it, either. It almost felt like he was falling for her--you knew the signs, after all.

His laugh was a little more bubbly, his voice was a little deeper, and the body language conveyed that he was into the conversations they were having. It made your blood boil, and she knew it.

Eventually, you decided that you weren’t going to try to stop them from doing what they wanted. If he wanted to be with her, then so be it. All you had ever wanted for Bucky was for him to be happy--maybe you just didn’t make him happy anymore.

You compared yourself to her so much that any thought about you was straight negativity. You thought that you weren’t as pretty as her, and that your smile wasn’t as bright, and that she had a curvier body than yours, and that she was always so interesting and bubbly. You believed you were so boring by contrast--no powers, no unique features that you could see.

Just bland, boring, you.

“(Y/N), you good?” Steve asked, knocking on your door one day. Bucky was in the living room with Savannah and the rest of the team having a movie night, and she was sitting so unbearably close to him that you became nauseous and told him that you were just going to go to sleep.

Steve came into the room and sat on the bed beside you, making you look at him. “I’m fine,” You lied. You knew it was a lie. He knew it was a lie.

“It’s Savannah, isn’t it?” He asked.

You sighed and closed your laptop before looking back up at him. “Do you think he wants to be with her?” You asked sincerely.

“No,” Steve answers. “I think he’s happy to have a new friend, but he loves you more than he loves--”

“If you say ‘cereal in the morning’ I will chemically castrate you,” You threatened. He laughs and shakes his head.

“You know how he talks about his service days a lot? Any chance he gets, he’s talking about the good ‘ole days when he was actually charming and young?”

“Yeah, he talks about it for hours on end.”

“When he became the Winter Soldier, he didn’t feel human anymore. He thought with every fiber of his body that he was a monster and sub-human. He didn’t think he deserved to live because of all the things HYDRA made him do. But when you became official, and even to this day, he talks about you the way he talks about his service days--with pride and love. He told me that nobody can make him feel as loved and as human as you do,” Steve explains.

“But that doesn’t mean that other people can’t make him feel the same way. He’s an easy person to fall for--I’m not the only one who’s willing to sacrifice anything for him. What if she makes him happier than I do? Or what if he realizes that she’s so interesting and perfect and I’m just me.”

“Do you really think that?” Bucky’s voice asks. You snap your head up to the doorway in shock, where Bucky stood with a sweater. Steve awkwardly stands up and leaves the room, patting his best friend on the back on the way out. Bucky closes the door behind him and kneels next to you on the bed. “Sweetheart, do you really think that I’m into her?”

“It seems kind of obvious, Buck,” you sigh. “I get it. Everybody else sees that she’s beautiful and has an amazing personality. She’s amazing, and if you want her, go for her.”

“No,” Bucky says. His voice is full of emotion, stern and unwavering yet somehow soft. “(Y/N), I love you. You’re the one who has seen me at my best and my worst. You’re the one who makes me smile when I’m sad, who brings me back to reality when I’m having flashbacks and nightmares, the one who wipes my tears. You’re the one I want to marry someday and buy a house with and start a family with--whether that’s fur children, actual children, or just us, it doesn’t matter.”

“Bucky--”

“Steve was right. You make me feel human. Why are you jealous of her?”

You sighed heavily and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. “You smile so much with her, and you’re always together, and--”

“She makes me uncomfortable,” Bucky interjects. He gives a small laugh before he continues. “She’s clingy and too touchy and doesn’t know when I want to be left alone and in the moments I don’t want to be alone, she thinks that I want to be around her when I actually just want to be around you. She talks about nothing except herself and her family, and won’t let me talk about any issues I’m having. She tried to get me to kiss her tonight, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting that shit slide.”

“She did?” You asked. Bucky nodded in confirmation, which made you livid. You stood up and tried to get past him, but he wouldn’t let you. “I’m gonna beat her ass,” You sneered.

“No, baby, I’ve got it covered. I got up and grabbed your favorite sweater of mine from my room, threw it in the drier so it’s warm, and I fully intend on holding you and making sure you know that I love you. I already texted everybody in the team and asked them to never put her on missions with me or let her try to even talk to me.”

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious, sweetheart,” Bucky smiles. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and over your head, handing you his sweater to put on. It’s warm and it smells like him and holy shit you’re so in love. “Nothing comes between me and my baby.”

“God, you are so cheesy,” You laughed.

Bucky stands up and gets into bed with you, pulling the comforter over the both of you and pulling you into him. “You don’t have to be jealous, (Y/N/N). It’s always gonna be us.”

“Do you think I’m boring?”

“Absolutely not,” He answers. “I think that you are a perfect combination of wild and tame. You know when to have fun and laugh, but you also know how to be serious when need be. And the way you can break a man’s neck between your thighs? That’s the hottest thing I have ever witnessed.”

You bust out laughing but hold him even closer. “I love you, baby. Can we get some sleep?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” He says. He asks FRIDAY to turn off the lights and lock the door, and then he kisses your forehead before you both drift off to sleep.

_____

The next day, you actually feel rested, even though you woke up at 0430 with him (a rare occurrence nowadays). He asks if you want to go on a run with him, to which you say okay. It takes all of ten minutes for the both of you to get dressed and brush your hair and teeth.

You go out to the kitchen to grab waters for you and Bucky. Usually, nobody else is up at this hour besides Steve (who was in his room getting ready for his run as well), but today, Savannah was there as well.

“You running with us, too?” She asked, turning around with a pep in her step. Her hair bounced in its ponytail, and she looks absolutely perfect in her leggings and sports bra. You felt like you weren’t nearly as pretty in your t-shirt and sweats.

“Yeah,” You replied, trying to keep a friendly voice as you searched for the bottles you, Steve, and Bucky typically use. You find them and fill them.

“He said last week that I could join him whenever I wanted. Hope that’s okay?” She says. It’s almost like she’s testing to make sure you weren’t the jealous girlfriend.

“I don’t care,” You shrugged. “Hell, I wish the entire team would go on morning jogs.”

“Listen, I don’t want to ruin your relationship--you guys are really cute together--but I think you should know that he kissed me last night.”

You shrugged your shoulders and leaned against the counter. “If you were really concerned about not ruining my relationship, you wouldn’t try to lay the moves on him as if you’re Michael Jackson. You’re aware he’s got a girl, but that doesn’t seem to matter to you,” You responded. Your voice was shockingly calm despite how envious of her you were.

“But--”

“But nothing,” You interjected. “Not only that, but I’m not concerned about you ruining our relationship. We trust each other and we’re open about our communication. You’re not a concern to us,” You added.

“Damn straight, sweetheart,” Bucky said as he and Steve walked into the kitchen. He plants a kiss on my cheek and grabs the water bottle from me, leaning next to me on the counter. “I told you last night that I wasn’t interested. Trying to get a rise out of (Y/N) won’t work because she’s one of the most rational and open people I know.”

Savannah got so upset that steam started rolling off of her, literally. Seemed there were some downsides to being enhanced, you assumed.

“Listen, we’re sure you’ll do great on missions,” Steve said, grabbing his bottle from you. “But I don’t appreciate people who try to get between Bucky and (Y/N). Keep that in mind,” He says sternly.

Envy is one of the seven deadly sins. It’s defined as a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else’s possessions, quality, or luck. You most certainly felt that stupid feeling more than you cared to admit, but that was okay. Communication and being open could fix a vast majority of problems that arise. You were lucky, luckier than Savannah could ever be because you had a partner that was not afraid to talk to you about his problems; even better, he wasn’t scared to listen to your problems.

Bucky was rare, but the love you shared with him was one-of-a-kind.

213 notes · View notes

lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.20}

*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: 4.7k

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

______________________________

It was a week before Christmas break, on a snowy Friday evening, when Robin and Snape found themselves sitting at one of the tables in the lab yet again, waiting patiently while their newest project simmered quietly in a small cauldron in front of them. Eventually the draught would turn in colour, going from a dull yellowish brown to a brilliant ruby red, but until then there was nothing to do but chat while they had their usual evening coffee.

After the firewhisky endeavour in late October, most of November and December had gone by remarkably unspectacularly, and while they had spent some more evenings in Snape's room throughout that time, mainly because of the music that had stayed in his room in form of Robin's old record player, Robin hadn't ever dared to even consider staying over again. Not that she wouldn't have wanted to –gods, she would give about anything even just to sleep in that cloud of a bed again– but she was rather certain that she couldn't spend another night in his space without doing something stupid. Especially when he was starting to become less opposed to this innocent physical closeness, to her touch and to touching her in return, she was better off sparing herself the temptation of crossing lines she shouldn't even come close to. They had already gotten so far, and she couldn't jeopardize that for a ridiculous spurt of nightly braveness. So it was their normal routine of staying up until ungodly hours to work and talk and simply enjoy each other's company that brightened her days no matter what.

"Your hair smells like pineapple again." Snape remarked in a dramatic sigh, which effectively drew Robin out of her head again.

"Yeah, well, I forgot my shampoo and had to steal from Cas once more." She shrugged with a humoured huff, then took a long sip of her cooled down coffee and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you honestly detest pineapple that much?"

"Yes. They smell too sweet for how acidic they are."

"But I know for a fact that you like lemons, and those are even more acidic."

"I do like lemons, yes."

"Funny."

"For someone who cannot tell lemons and limes apart it certainly must be, yes."

Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but the smile on her lips gave away her true sentiments. He honestly would never let her live that down… and it had been years! That man had a memory better than a photo album or an audio recorder, and she found herself stuck between pride, envy and admiration. The middle would do.

"Next time I'll use Jorien's coconut body wash too, so that you get stuck with me smelling like a freaking piña colada, if you'd prefer that." She teased him right back with a small smirk, but then couldn't help laughing at his horrified expression. "Don't worry, I for my part have no intention of smelling like a fruity cocktail. Would be the cherry on top of everything, eh?"

"Funny." Now it was Snape who rolled his eyes, using his flattest and most indifferent tone, and Robin had to laugh even more. Especially when he finally couldn't help the smirk on his lips any longer either.

"Speaking of drinks, isn't-..." Robin was cut off by a loud knock, which made both her and Snape frown at each other simultaneously, then at the door. It was past one o'clock in the morning; who the hell would dare bothering them at this time?! With every intention to find an answer to that question, it was Robin who jumped off her chair and skipped to the door this time around, with Snape just a few steps behind her.

When she opened up, she was greeted by the kind and absolutely unsurprised face of none other than Professor McGonagall. Robin's eyebrows rose for a second, but she didn't forget her manners over her surprise. "Good evening, Professor. Is everything alright?"

"Good evening indeed, Miss Mitchell. Severus…" McGonagall gave both of them a nod and a smile, looking from one to the other as Snape came to stand so close behind Robin that she could feel his warmth on her back, as well as the gentle brush of his robes whenever he took a breath. It took quite a bit of effort on her part to keep focusing on McGonagall as she spoke on, clearly addressing Snape now. "I'm afraid I have news you won't like to hear."

"What happened?" Snape's voice was the perfect disdainful indifference once more, and Robin had no doubt that his expression was made to match.

"Pomona received an urgent owl an hour ago and henceforth has personal matters to attend to all weekend, which means she will not be able to see to the mandatory dancing instructions of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students tomorrow morning, and seeing as Filius isn't an option, by his own choice may I add, you're going to have to attend to half of the students, Severus." McGonagall stated in one long breath, with a pointed expression that left no room for arguments. Behind Robin's back, Snape held his breath for a second, which she only could tell by the lacking brush of fabric against her jumper.

"Certainly." He finally drawled, dutiful as much as disdainful. It wasn't hard to guess his thoughts on the matter, especially after he had successfully avoided giving this dance class for the past years. "I shall instruct the Slytherins myself, and whichever half of Pomona's students you wish to… impose on me."

"The Ravenclaws should be a better fit for you, I believe." The transfiguration professor was quick to reply. "Would you mind having the time between breakfast and lunch, in the great hall? I myself would prefer the timeframe from lunch until dinner."

"I am not partial to any time."

"It's settled then. You'll teach the Slytherins and Ravenclaws after breakfast." McGonagall smiled almost mischievously, or at least in a decent amount of amusement. "I believe a standard waltz shouldn't be a problem to you, after demonstrating it quite so nicely with Miss Mitchell at last year's ball."

Snape didn't reply, but Robin could feel him glaring at McGonagall over her shoulder. Honestly, she couldn't even blame him for being annoyed by the turn of events. This was probably the last thing he had expected to be doing on this Saturday, especially since they had previously made different plans. Looks like those would have to wait yet again.

"Anyway, I don't want to hold you two up any longer than necessary." McGonagall finally spoke on when nobody replied to her previous statement. "What is it you are doing at this time of night anyway?"

"Working." Both Robin and Snape replied in unison, in the same evading neutrality, and the woman in front of them couldn't help smiling in sincere amusement at their mannerisms.

"I see." She said, and tried to glance past Snape into the lab, only to give up after a half-hearted attempt. "I was merely being curious; I unfortunately have to conduct most of my experiments alone these days."

"If you find yourself looking for an assistant, I can only recommend you to ask Jorien Blakeley. She would be delighted, and I know for a fact that she has a remarkably strong interest in transfiguration." Robin couldn't help the blurb of words from escaping, but she also didn't quite regret it. "And as far as I'm aware, she has been getting fairly high grades as well."

McGonagall looked surprised at the suggestion, then she frowned to herself for a moment and finally smiled at Robin again as she went to reply. "Miss Blakeley really does have a talent for the subject, however I wasn't aware that she would take interest in furthering her knowledge beyond the classroom topics. Nor that she would enjoy having to spend more time with me than necessary."

"Believe me, she does. Very much so even. But she admires you too much to bother you with questions she believes to be too insignificant. Actually, she believes herself to be too insignificant. I try to tutor her as much as possible, but I am by far not the most proficient in the subject, nor can I teach her as much as she would want to learn."

"I certainly will consider speaking to the girl about assisting me then. Thank you, Miss Mitchell." McGonagall said in prevailing mild amusement, but definitely also appreciation, and then gave both Snape and Robin another nod. "Anyway, goodnight for now. I will see you both tomorrow."

As the professor left, Robin closed the door once again and let out a long breath while she followed Snape back to their stools. Perhaps McGonagall would ask Jorien for her assistance indeed, and that might just take some work off Robin's hands if the girl would get her answers from someone more adept in the subject.

"Funny." Snape said after a moment, as he gave Robin a teasing smirk. "You never admired me enough to spare me from your questions."

Robin gave him an immediate glare, but then also a smirk in return. "No, I admired you enough to know that you were the only one who could keep up with my questions in the first place."

"You've always been by far brighter than anyone around you." His smirk widened, and Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly to act over the warmth spreading in her chest and on her cheeks. "Logically, nobody but me could handle you even if you came with instructions."

"Hey!" She couldn't help laughing again at last, and nudged him in the shoulder before she slumped down in her seat. "I don't even know if that last part was supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

"That would be for you to decide."

Indeed, Robin decided on taking it as a compliment. If he thought that his intellect had somewhat found a match in her, she honestly could only feel flattered, brilliant as he was. Besides, he had long stopped insulting her for anything more than a tease in the first place… so a compliment it was. And honestly, Robin absolutely didn't mind that he was the only one who was able to handle her, and she even wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment. But the thought of handling things brought her on to a different topic of thought in an instant, and she frowned to herself for a second.

"I guess our plans for tomorrow are cancelled now, aren't they?" She stated more than asked, and the amusement faded off her face as it vanished from his as well. "I mean, we'll never make it all the way around the black lake between lunch and dinner, especially not in this snow. It'll be too dark to see our own feet even before we have walked half the distance if we start in the afternoon."

"Unfortunately." He sighed, then his face set in a scowl. "Teaching fifty fourth years how to dance certainly is the last thing I expected to do tomorrow."

For a second Robin had to snort at the confirmation of her previous assumption, in almost the same words even, but it was a bitter amusement and it confused Snape more than it cheered either of them up, so her face set back into a grim expression before long . "Too bad Sprout had urgent matters to attend to right on this weekend, out of an entire year to choose from."

"I was starting to believe I had once and for all gotten out of giving dancing lessons… The previous years I wasn't even asked to."

"I luckily only had to suffer through it once, during fifth year. Remember that? I danced with this redhead and everyone made a big deal out of it."

"How could I forget?" Snape huffed, rolling his eyes. "Minerva kept going on and on afterwards about how neat it would be to… encourage that non-existent connection she however believed to see between you and the Weasley boy."

Robin was the one rolling her eyes now, with an indignant scoff to accompany the expression. "Honestly, even back then I was far closer to you than to that boy, or to anyone at all really. You knew that, I even told you about it!"

"That you did." He confirmed, then lost some of the annoyance as he let out a quiet sigh. "I believe it isn't of relevance anymore, Minerva has long since come to her senses as has everyone else who attempted to conspire on the issue. But other than that, I would still like to hear more about your dancing lesson."

"Ah, yes…" Robin said, as the realization hit her that he probably hadn't received any such lessons during his time as a student nor gotten to witness the ones given in the previous years. "Well, uh, it wasn't spectacular actually. In the beginning there was a quick explanation about the whys and hows of dancing, and then McGonagall forced some seventh year boy to demonstrate the dance with her. After that we just had to pick a partner and practiced for like… two hours perhaps. A bit longer maybe. That's it."

"I assume Minerva corrected your errors while you practiced?"

"I'm not too bad at dancing, so she didn't concern herself much with me, but others' mistakes she did correct relentlessly from what I could tell."

"Good. I can do that."

"I think it'll actually be easier for you than it was for her." Robin shrugged at her own thought. "You shouldn't have the problem of people slacking off and fooling around. They're far too scared of you to cause any mayhem or refuse your orders. Easy."

The corner of his lips quirked up for a second, but then set back into a grim line. "I wouldn't call forcing some dunderhead to demonstrate the dance with me particularly 'easy'. Students are far less repelled by Minerva, which makes the entire endeavour less of a sickening prospect for her in return."

Either it was his self-deprecating words or the thought of him dancing with someone else that made Robin feel sour in an instant, but either way she had to swallow the lump in her throat down quite forcefully before she replied. "I… You… uh, I understand how dreadful it must seem to you to dance with someone. But I'm sure whoever you choose will be less repelled by it than you are, if that helps anything."

"I have no intention to force anyone to dance with me at all."

"Yes, no, but… I mean, since it's the fourth years we're speaking of anyway, I'm sure you could ask Jorien. She's quite indifferent to most people; she wouldn't care if she was dancing with you or with someone else. And if I ask her to do it, she will. Especially after I just advertised her to McGonagall."

"Actually, I was going to ask you." He said, surprisingly straightforward and direct in his approach of the topic. "For the favour of helping me with the entire lesson. It would be to the best advantage of everyone if the demonstration was nothing short of perfect, and an additional pair of eyes will certainly be beneficial for the students' practice afterwards as well."

A weight lifted off Robin's heart in an instant, and she had to smile at his through and through logical and desperately appropriate reasons for asking her assistance. "Of course I will help you. Anytime, with anything. You know that. And having someone to explain the female part will probably be good too."

"Likely. To be honest however, while those are all perfectly good reasons to ask you to do this with me, they aren't truly my measure. I rather know your presence is going to make the entire ordeal a lot more bearable, as it always does. And in the end, I would simply hate to dance with anyone but you, no matter the circumstances." He added after a moment, again in a shocking easy sincerity that almost had Robin's heart leaping out of her chest.

Her smile broadened until it was allconsuming in its radiance, like all those times when she failed to suppress the stupid hope that lived in every shadow of her mind these days. No. He would hate dancing with anyone else because Robin was the only person he found bearable to touch. Not because of any other reason. Who wouldn't choose a friend over a stranger? Her smile fell, her heart sank, and she couldn't help the hurt from showing in her eyes at least.

"You really should stop that, you know…" She finally said in a sad chuckle that was heartbreaking even to her own ears.

"What?" Snape asked in return, and his expression fell in accordance with Robin's. He looked almost taken aback, confused at least, about whatever he had obviously done wrong this time and Robin felt even worse for speaking up at all. She didn't dare to answer. So he asked again. "Stop what?"

"Forcing this ridiculous hope onto me." She said before she knew, with a sad smile and a gaze that dug souldeep into his. "Every time you say things like that, it forces a little more hope to seep through the cracks in my walls, and I need you to stop. I don't want to hope, I can't bear it… Hope is dangerous. It's torturing me."

Her words seemed to confuse him even more, and while he frowned deeply at her, the subtle hurt in his own eyes was undeniable. He wanted to understand what he had done wrong… she knew. But he hadn't done anything wrong at all, nothing but being who he was. And being who he was, he wouldn't let go that easily. "Hope for what, Robin? You have to be a bit more precise if I am to understand. And I would very much like to."

The sight, the thought almost broke Robin entirely, while his blissful oblivion almost made her laugh in return. Oh, how stupid could she be? For the first time he had done absolutely everything right by being completely honest, by trying to talk about an issue, and here she was, doing absolutely everything wrong in return. It wasn't his fault that she loved him too much, and it wasn't his fault that she couldn't handle her own stupid emotions.

"Nevermind." She sighed finally, tearing her eyes away from his to look down at her empty coffee mug on the table. "I'm just being stupid because my brain is too tired to function. You know me… I talk nonsense sometimes when I'm exhausted. If it wasn't for the stupid potion that just refuses to change colour, I'd be going straight to bed."

"Actually, it changed colour twenty minutes ago and I put a stasis on it to continue the work tomorrow afternoon."

Robin groaned in frustration and closed her eyes before hiding her face in her hands. "See! I didn't even notice! Great friend you have in me… and an even worse colleague. I'm such a failure…"

For a moment it was silent in the lab, and while Robin just hoped that she hadn't entirely screwed things up, she could practically hear his mind working at light speed. Gods, he had only said he quite liked to dance with her… and she'd gone on to make a scene of it. Great. So much for being better.

"To tell you the truth, I haven't the remotest idea what to do in a moment like this. What to say or do that would make things better for you and not worse. But I assume… perhaps this is the kind of situation where an embrace might prove helpful?" He finally spoke up, reluctantly and more than a little uncertain about his assessment of the situation, but without a hint of discomfort or doubt about the underlying offer he was making. Robin's hands dropped from her face in an instant, and before she knew, her eyes were filling with tears of adoration and exhaustion and overwhelm. His brows furrowed in return, his face a careful layer of neutrality.

Robin wanted to reply, wanted to say how damn right he was in that assumption, wanted to assure him that she wasn't being so bloody emotional because of anything he had done wrong, but because of all the things he was doing right. But all she could do was to nod, and then push herself off her stool to cross the space between them. Snape for his part stayed perched on the edge of his seat when Robin wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he pulled her flush against him when his arms circled her waist in return. They were almost the same height like this, or at least closer to it, which allowed Robin to hide her face in the soft fabric in the crook of his neck when her tears finally started spilling over. She didn't even know why exactly she was being so bloody stupid right now, so ridiculous and pathetic and weird… Her almost-slip of emotions hadn't backlashed. Her secret was still safe. Their experimental potion was intact and waiting to be continued. She would get to dance with him tomorrow, and help him with a class. She even was wrapped up in the most comforting hug ever at the moment, if that alone wasn't enough reason to be happy! Everything was bloody perfect. And yet, when he ever so subtly started playing with the tips of her hair that cascaded down her back, a strangled sob escaped her lips and he stopped in an instant.

"No, please…" She sniffed before she could think better of it. His hands in her hair had felt so nice… a hint of a sign that he enjoyed their closeness as well. "Please keep doing that."

It took a few seconds before he complied, but once he did, Robin sighed under her breath, and she was almost sure that she felt him smile against her shoulder in return. True or not, the idea sufficed to send a shiver down her spine, and finally she found herself able to relax. The tension left her body like a burn washed away by the sweet relief of a cooling water, and while she sunk deeper into the warm comfort of another perfect embrace, her spiralling emotions became subject to her will once more. It really was alright… they were alright.

"I'm really looking forward to dancing with you tomorrow." Robin finally said, in a calm tone and with a calm mind once again. He deserved to know that much at least, and it was a perfectly appropriate thing to say. "The circumstances… nah, but as long as we're suffering through it together, it will be alright."

"I take it then that an embrace really does make you feel better. I shall have to remember." He replied in amusement, and while that did make Robin smile, she also wasn't fooled over the astonishment he tried to hide behind it. Indeed, it was rather sad to think that he wouldn't know how comforting the embrace of a beloved person could be. Or perhaps he simply doubted that his embrace would have this effect on her. Either way, Robin made a mental note to make him understand and believe both in the nearer future.

"You shall indeed, I do feel a lot better. Always, with you." She sighed softly and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her now that she could focus on it at last. "Still am beyond tired though."

"Perhaps you should go to bed. Tomorrow certainly will be exhausting enough with all the dunderheads stumbling through the room and tripping over their own two feet."

"We should totally play bullshit bingo with the idiotic things they might say or do…" Robin chuckled to herself and absentmindedly traced the seams of his robes she could reach with her fingertips. "That might just make the entire ordeal more amusing. For us, at least."

"How… temptingly unprofessional." He drawled in return, and the deep tone of his voice being so delightfully juxtaposed by his words made Robin snicker even more. "We most definitely should play indeed."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you." She yawned, and somehow it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her legs from giving out beneath her, now that her entire body was relaxing and being held up by his. "And I would have to say that I love it."

Her words made Snape chuckle, which was a sound so exquisite in its low rumbling depths that it sent new waves of shivers all over Robin's body, which left goosebumps in their wake in return. Bloody hell, he most definitely could feel the effects he had on her now… But at least he was kind or indifferent enough not to comment on it. She could always blame it on being cold or tired or something of that sort, should the necessity arise.

"You certainly have the strongest influence on me, and I daresay you are the only one I allow myself to be affected by in the first place."

"Well, if I'm the only one, being the strongest is hardly an accomplishment. And I would be the strongest and the weakest at the same time, you know…"

"Will you just take a compliment when I accidentally give you one for once, you insufferable little creature?"

"I can try." Robin grinned at his half humoured and half feignedly annoyed tone. "Even though I technically wouldn't call 'insufferable little creature' a compliment."

"But I would." Snape returned, and his smirk didn't need to be seen to make its way straight to Robin's heart, making it soar. "You are indeed quite tiny, as well as considerably different from any average humanness, and you most definitely are insufferable."

"Thanks…" She snorted, then stifled another yawn and wondered for a moment what would happen if she just fell asleep right in this spot; she was hardly supporting her own weight anymore anyway. Chances were high he'd wake her right back up or she'd cause him trouble if he tried not to, which wouldn't be much of a gain in either direction, and thus she banned the idea into the back of her mind.

"It seems like that was quite a weak attempt at humour on my end, going by your response. My apologies."

"No, I'm sorry, it really was funny! I'm just too tired to appreciate it properly."

"I still stand by my suggestion that you should go to bed. Teaching is more exhausting than one would assume, especially if it involves watching fifty students at once."

"You're right… I know."

That seemed to be the cue for both of them to ever-reluctantly let go of each other in the same silent agreement as always, and for Robin to sigh softly in disappointment at the loss of his delectable warmth and comfort in return. Yet, she didn't let any of it seep into her expression as she went to pick up her backpack from the other table and only turned back to Snape when she halted at the door before letting herself out.

"I really am looking forward to tomorrow." She said once again even though she'd told him already, but she couldn't help it. The excitement was there and it was strong, and he deserved to know. "I miss dancing with you."

He gave her one of his rare smiles in return, a genuine one that wasn't teasing or humoured but simply content and perhaps just a little excited as well. "This time I would like to ask you to dance though, if you will let me."

"Well, then you simply will have to be faster than me, won't you?" Robin smirked at him, wiggling her eyebrows for a second, and then had to laugh at her own ridiculous silliness. It really was too late for her own good. "Goodnight, Severus."

"Until tomorrow." He replied, and when Robin stepped out into the hallway with a huge smile lingering on her face, she couldn't help but think that perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that their plans for tomorrow had been changed. Maybe she would have to thank Sprout for being absent at some point.

______________________________

Tags:

@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles @istrugglewithphilosophy @meghan-maria @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @darkestacademiaaa @nizem8 @girilimoni

General Tags:

@wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @lemonmochitea

53 notes · View notes

spacetimewraithwrites-archive · 4 years ago

Text

OC Kiss Week Day 2: Blanket

WIP: To Annex the Kid/The Invention of Fire Pairing: Works x Russell (with a cameo by one of Works’ aliases) Timeline: TIoF CW: More yearning! Yay! Rating: T Words: 1,653

***

Cady shivered and pulled her blanket tighter around her small shoulders, teeth chattering against the frigid cold seeping mercilessly through the doors of the coach. Works turned to her in alarm at the sound.

“My goodness,” he exclaimed, squeezing her to his side on the seat. He rubbed her arms to force warmth into her wiry frame. “Why didn’t you tell me you were this cold?”

Sitting across from this display and facing the rear of the coach, Russell watched Works take a spare blanket from his satchel and tuck it under Cady’s chin, wrapping it tight across her chest and essentially swaddling her within thick wool, and after a few moments the chattering stopped.

“Sorry, Mr. Works,” Cady said. “Guess I didn’t think much of it.”

“Nonsense.” Works peered through the window as best as he could through the endless snow and fog hiding London from view. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times not to feel that you’re being an inconvenience by asking for ordinary things such as an extra blanket.” He swung around and affected a humorously severe face, brows drawn too tight together and mouth tugged down in an exaggerated frown. “Can you imagine the inconvenience if you’d expired?”

Cady belly-laughed and Russell shook his head, bewildered.

"I do not understand why y’all think the things you think is so funny is so funny sometimes," he muttered, though he let out a quiet snort anyway if for no other reason than because he enjoyed when they interacted with such familiarity.

Still laughing, Cady buried her face in her blanket. “It’s not my fault!”

"There isn’t a lot to envy in the way of having a macabre sense of humor,” Works said. He looked at Russell with an expression of false surprise. “Some say it’s a sign of low intelligence or maturity, you know.”

“Low intelligence, no.” Russell��s face split into an playful grin. “Maturity? That might be up for discussion.”

Works pretended to be affronted and placed a firm hand on the top of Cady’s head. “This is a child!”

Russell opened his mouth to respond when the coach came to a rolling stop. One glance outside told him they’d arrived at the house rented out to them by Dr. Keller, and an overwhelming yawn burst forth from him in anticipation of stretching out on the most comfortable bed he’d ever experienced.

And stretch out he did some minutes later, with a steaming cup of tea brewed by the housekeeper, reclined on a sofa in the well-lit drawing room and another five or six blankets piled onto his lap. He wasn’t sure how he got to that point or why begging Mrs. Gabb to leave him be just this once always resulted in a cup of tea that went to waste.

“Y’ever been dragged along the dirt behind a galloping horse for thirty seconds?” he asked.

Works, freshly changed into a gemstone-hued dressing gown, stifled the sounds of Cady enjoying a lively song with Mrs. Gabb in the kitchen as he pushed the doors closed. “...I can’t say I have.”

“Well, it feels kinda like this.” Russell deposited the teacup along with its saucer onto the table in front of him.

A pause settled over the floor and Works slid his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to speak to you about that, actually.” He hesitated. “About you being here, with me—”

“Works,” Russell interjected, holding up a hand to stop him, “we already talked about it enough.”

Works spared a cautionary look over his shoulder at the doors, where the jovial noise continued from further into the house. The chances of being interrupted were low, yet he dropped his voice anyway. “I still need you to know how much it means to me that you’d come so far from home, into such foreign waters for the sole purpose—”

“Works....”

“—For the sole purpose of letting me pursue a silly whim.” Works’ eyes followed Russell as he got to his feet, leaving the blanket pile behind. “I can see how uncomfortable you are here.”

“First of all, if you call this...this....”

“Symposium.”

“If you call this symposium a silly whim again, you’re gonna have to answer to me. Also, I would let you drag me along the dirt into the deepest depths of the ocean, McCoy.”

The silence that followed surprised them both. Not even Mrs. Gabb’s distant and boisterous laughter could stop the furious blush from cropping up on Russell’s face as he realized he’d taken Works’ shoulder in hand, fingers digging into the muscle meeting his neck, and they stood impeccably close to one another.

“I get seasick,” Works murmured.

“I am all too familiar with the concept.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said to me up in that balloon.” Works made eye contact and held it for ages. “I fear I’ve underplayed what hearing those words from you has done to me emotionally.”

Russell swallowed. “Yeah...I actually think this might be the first time you’ve looked me in the eye since we left home.” He, too, glanced to the doors. “You’re lookin’ a little like you wanna make somethin’ right, however.”

Magnetically, Works bowed toward Russell, pressing a purposeful kiss to the hollow of his cheek. The flutter of his nervous breath against Russell’s skin sprouted a shiver.

“Works,” he said with finality. Concession.

Taking that cue, Works met his lips, gathering the fabric of the waistcoat Russell hated wearing into tight fists and backing him into the wall with aggression so suppressed it almost snapped like a dry and brittle branch across Russell’s shoulders. Works kissed him like he needed to taste him or accept death, and Russell felt a rumble of courage in his stomach he hadn’t felt in quite a few years that allowed him to hold Works in place by the back of the neck and reciprocate enthusiastically.

Russell had the belt of the dressing gown open and his arms around Works’ waist so quickly the chill of the air hadn’t set in yet. Works inhaled sharp, shuddering under the pressure of large palms splayed flat against the curve of his backside, caught between his trousers and the softness of the robe.

Works tangled his fingers within Russell’s previously kempt hair, and the crash of a dish breaking in the kitchen followed by an undistressed yelp fueled Russell into pushing Works in the direction of the door to his own bedroom on the other side of the drawing room, to get out of open space, to sate the clawing hunger in privacy.

Russell’s famished mouth found its way to Works’ jawline, hands preoccupied by the buttons of his shirt, completely in a haze that he wouldn’t have given an ounce of recognition had it not been for Works suddenly gripping the door frame to stop them with immediacy.

“Russell...” Works hissed. He took hold of Russell’s chin. “Russ, darling....”

Russell gazed up at him with glossy eyes. “Yeah.”

“Not like this.” Works touched his forehead to Russell’s, nails so far into the wall that he tore a bit of the paper, breath coming out in forceful gusts. “I would never forgive myself.”

Russell kissed him again, slow, heart humming into his bones, parts of him aching low and urgent, and though he agreed with Works in the end, he couldn’t help but feel a sting of frustration at the tables being turned for once.

Footsteps in the hall forced them apart, and Works helped flatten Russell’s hair while simultaneously re-tying the dressing gown. He was still in the process of securing the knot in the belt when the drawing room doors opened.

“Sirs,” Mrs. Gabb sang upon entering the room. “Nothing to worry about! I’ve made a right mess is all."

“Everything alright?” Works asked, and only Russell picked up on the strained way he talked.

“Oh, yes. I dropped a teacup. Shattered it to pieces.”

Russell exchanged a look with Works. “Tragic.”

“I’ve sent the young Miss to freshen up for supper while I clean up.”

Works coughed a bit. “Allow me to help, Mrs. Gabb—”

“No, no, Mr. Robinson, I won’t have it at all. You’re guests to this house! What would Dr. Keller say?”

“Let ‘im help,” Russell grunted. “He won’t leave you alone if you don’t.”

Mrs. Gabb’s rosy cheeks pinched out as she grinned. “Well, alright. I’ve got a broom this way....”

The remainder of the evening went on much like nothing had transpired, other than Russell occasionally catching Works in the act of watching him as if he had a particularly puzzling riddle marked on his forehead from across the dinner table. The intensity of his clear blue stare gave him goosebumps.

A knock on Russell’s door much later, after he’d assumed everyone else had retired for the night, startled him. He looked up from his lettering book and tensed up. “...Whozit?”

“It’s me,” Works said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Russell tossed the book onto the bed and pulled the door open just enough to see Works silhouetted by the hall light, bottom lip between his teeth and worry lines aging him somewhat.

They stood unspeaking for a moment.

Works took a calming breath. “I love you.”

Russell nodded. He’d heard it before, but it still made his entire body warm. Insecurity prevented him from repeating what he’d said in the balloon. “I know.”

“I didn’t want you to think...I apologize if I gave you the impression that I wasn’t....”

“Gimme a kiss g’night, McCoy.”

Works leaned in to press a chaste kiss, the softest kiss to his lips. Russell let it course into his veins.

“Good night,” Works whispered.

Russell found it a little easy to fall asleep that night. If he’d known it could’ve ended up being the last time he’d ever kiss Works McCoy, however...he sure would’ve changed his mind about a lot of things.

#ockiss21 #TIoF

19 notes · View notes

prayerith · 3 years ago

Text

a flaw in the code

Kaiba runs his Twitter more or less automatically, including a function to mass-block people who interact with Tweets he has blocked. Unfortunately, this sometimes means that he blocks people he doesn’t mean to block. When he gets confronted over this, how will he respond?

my introduction to canon x oc (the oc being kazuko kubota, the child of me and @duelistkingdom ) and it’s from kaiba’s pov (feat unrequited rivalship), because of course it is. enjoy! read on ao3 here

“Kaiba.”

Kaiba’s spine stiffened at the familiar voice. He clutched his books to his chest, their reassuring weight giving him the courage to spin on his heel. As he expected, Yugi Mutou was behind him. Or, not Yugi, but the other Yugi. He was wearing the uniform jacket properly, unlike his tendency during Battle City, but he was no less imposing.

Kaiba swallowed, hoping his voice came out naturally. “Yugi. What’s this about?”

“My partner was discouraged this morning. When I asked him why, he pulled up his phone instead of actually talking to me. So, I will do the same to you: care to explain this?” With all the flair he usually saved for revealing a Spell card, the other Yugi flipped his phone towards Kaiba. Kaiba had to squint—he wouldn’t be caught dead in his reading glasses at school—but when he finally made out the text, he frowned.

“So you’re blocked by somebody on Twitter? Please, Yugi, this isn’t something to get worked up about. It’s not like it’s a personal attack.” He ignored the voice in his head reminding him that he had written a program for his own Twitter that would block anyone who associated with certain tweets. Tweets that featured Yugi boasting about his beautiful, talented, clever girlfriend in particular.

“Just somebody, huh?” The other Yugi fixed Kaiba with a stern look. It should have seemed out of place on Yugi’s round, friendly face, but Kaiba couldn’t help but feel suddenly small. “Try again.”

Kaiba sighed, but took Yugi’s phone in his own hand, finding the appropriate position where he could read the text with the least amount of eye strain. And— “What is this?”

The other Yugi was right; he wasn’t blocked by just any random loser on Twitter. The screen was on Kaiba’s own Twitter page. Instead of the Kaiba Land promos and Duel Disk news he had most recently retweeted, however, the screen was gray, apart from a block of tiny letters. “You are blocked by this user,” the website proclaimed, though as Kaiba met the other Yugi’s piercing eyes again, it felt more like an accusation than a simple statement of fact.

“I’d think you would know,” the other Yugi replied, voice startlingly cool.

To his horror, Kaiba found himself at a loss for words. “I don’t—I mean—” He cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a couple deep breaths. As he did so, he searched his memory, but he couldn’t recall hitting the block button on Yugi. At least, not of his own volition.

“Use your words, Kaiba.”

Kaiba growled, but forced his eyes back open. “I didn’t block you.” At the other Yugi’s raised eyebrow, he rushed on, words running into one another in his haste to get them out. “At least, not on purpose. In fact, my account is more or less completely run automatically, using programs that I wrote specifically for that purpose. Some of these scripts do involve blocking users, so it’s possible that your account got caught in some filter accidentally.”

The other Yugi frowned, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers against his elbows. “So what you’re saying is, your computer programs blocked my partner by mistake?”

“Exactly.” Kaiba couldn’t help but feel a jolt of envy at how quickly the other Yugi picked things up. “It was a quirk of the system, nothing more. Tell Yugi that he can stop moping about it.” He felt ridiculous asking someone who, for all intents and purposes, was Yugi to pass along a message to Yugi. Ever since Battle City, though, he’d found himself a bit more amenable to the ridiculous, implausible things that happened around Yugi Mutou.

The other Yugi, for his part, perked up substantially at the mention of his own name. “I can do better than that!” A genuine grin spread over his features, drawing Kaiba’s attention to his plush lips, the dimple on his left cheek. “I can bring him out so you can tell him yourself!”

He continued speaking, but aside from a few mentions of the word “partner,” Kaiba was no longer listening. Ice had shot down his spine, while paradoxically, heat bloomed in his cheeks and sweat formed on his hands. “That won’t be necessary,” he snapped, interrupting the other Yugi’s joyful monologue. “Just tell him what I said. Goodbye.”

With that, he turned on his heel and fled the hallway, books still clutched close to his chest. He could feel his heart hammering in his ears, even as he turned into the men’s room and locked the door behind him. The wooden door was cool against his back as he sunk to a sitting position against it, letting his school supplies fall from his arms.

God damn it. Kaiba exhaled sharply, dragging his hands down his face, before pulling out his phone and opening Twitter. A rare occurrence, as of late; there wasn’t much that he needed to keep up with online, and he rarely wanted to check the inane tweets his contemporaries made. When his profile opened, he navigated to the “Blocked Users” page. There was quite a bit to scroll through, but eventually, he was face-to-face with Yugi’s smiling profile picture.

Almost immediately, he turned his phone off, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his crossed arms. He really did block Yugi. Prevented from interaction with one of the only people he actually wanted to interact with by his own programs.

He allowed himself a moment of despair, before pulling himself back together, unlocking his phone once more. Even so, he still flinched at the reappearance of Yugi’s picture. Keep it together, Seto. You’re just seeing what triggered the block. Think about it like a programming error.

One of the benefits of Kaiba’s auto-block program (nicknamed “Crush Tweet Virus” by Mokuba) was that if Kaiba blocked a tweet, not only did it block the person who made it, it also hid the profiles of anyone who interacted with it. What’s more, it allowed him to see the blocked tweet a given user had liked or retweeted. This was a nominally useful feature. In Yugi’s case, however, the reason for the block made Kaiba’s blood run cold. God. Anything but that tweet.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he tried to blink it out of existence, the proof was there. Kaiba opened the blocked tweet in question, and his stomach immediately turned over. He didn’t have a name for the emotions burning in his gut. All he knew was that the image of Yugi pressing a kiss to Kazuko Kubota’s outstretched hand, the caption declaring “These two are couple goals,” threatened to overwhelm him with discomfort. He had blocked it for a reason.

In fact, there was a theme to the posts he had blocked. They all contained some reference to Yugi Mutou, Kazuko Kubota, and/or the fact that they were currently in a relationship. As much as he wanted to lie to himself, he knew what irked him so much about the reminder that Yugi was dating somebody. It was the fact that he wanted to be the person whose hand Yugi was kissing—the reminder that Yugi clearly didn’t have the same feelings toward Kaiba.

His face was burning. If only he could take his uniform jacket off, splash water on his face, anything to calm him down without ruining his composed appearance. Instead, he navigated back to his “Blocked Users” page, once again making eye contact with Yugi’s smiling headshot. If his fingers trembled at all as he hit the “unblock” button, Kaiba certainly wouldn’t admit to it. He would have to reprogram “Crush Tweet Virus” to exempt Yugi entirely, as he would almost certainly interact with other tweets about his girlfriend. Girlfriend—the word made Kaiba’s stomach do another unpleasant flip.

He thought he was done with the whole endeavor. In fact, he was almost at peace, comfortably eating his lunch on the roof a few days later. Part of that had to do with the fact that he hadn’t interacted with Yugi in all that time, but nobody needed to know that. Unfortunately, things couldn’t be so easy for him.

“Hey, Kaiba! They told me I could find you up here.”

Kaiba nearly spit out his mouthful of rice. Surely, his ears were playing tricks on him. Kubota went to Rintama, she wouldn’t have time to make it onto the roof of Domino High during her lunch break. Yet, as he craned his neck up from his lunch, his stomach dropped. Those baby-pink hair buns could belong to nobody else.

He jumped to his feet, uncomfortable with looking up at the much-shorter duelist, then cleared his throat. “Kubota. What are you doing here?”

Kubota just grinned at him, though it looked more like a hostile baring of teeth to Kaiba. “I was in the neighborhood. Figured I’d drop by and thank you for unblocking Yugi.”

“You knew about that?” Kaiba said, keeping his gaze fiercely locked with her lavender eyes.

“Of course! Yugi and I don’t keep things from each other,” she responded, sounding hurt. “He was really upset when he realized you blocked him, so finding out that it was a mistake made him feel way better. So, uh, thanks.”

Why was she thanking him? He and Kubota didn’t speak much, but when they did, she was usually admonishing him. The lashing she gave him at Duelist Kingdom flashed through his mind; he suppressed a shudder. Yet, analyzing her body language, he didn’t think she was being sarcastic.

She cleared her throat, then, and gestured towards him. Right, she had said, “Thank you.” What was the right response to give? He settled on a curt, “You’re welcome,” and a brief jerk of his head, an abridged bow. Yet, she didn’t turn to leave. Instead, she glanced up and down his form, hands on her hips. One side of her face twitched—a suppressed smile?

“So, the stowaway tells me your Twitter account is basically automated,” she said casually, slipping one of the straps of her bright red bag off so that it hung from one shoulder instead of both.

“Stowaway?”

“Right, you don’t hang out with us much. That’s what I call the other Yugi.”

Kaiba flushed with embarrassment at the memory of the prior conversation. “I see. Yes, he’s right. That is how Yugi got blocked.”

Kubota leaned in, one eyebrow raised. “So, what program blocked Yugi? ‘Cause Stowaway tells me that he didn’t think you were lying about it being an accident, but I haven’t heard of anything that blocks people so liberally.”

“What do you mean?” Kaiba asked, frowning. “One person getting blocked by my program doesn’t mean that I’ve blocked everybody.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kubota wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead focused on her own phone. She scrolled for a moment, fingers moving in time with the rhythm she chewed her gum, before turning her screen towards him with a cry of triumph. “This thread says otherwise.”

Again, Kaiba was forced to squint at someone else’s phone screen, and almost immediately, he regretted ever signing up for Twitter in the first place. The first tweet was from Mai Kujaku, reading, “Lmao, guess I pissed him off somehow!” It was accompanied by a familiar screenshot: Kaiba’s own profile, with the text “You have been blocked by this user.”

The next tweet was from Kubota herself, remarking, “Lol, I’ve been blocked since Duelist Kingdom.” After that, the replies were full of Yugi’s friends, all posting similar screenshots and complaining about (Mazaki) or rejoicing (Jonouchi) being blocked by Seto Kaiba.

Damn him for forgetting that Kubota was an excellent strategist in her own right; he shouldn’t have let his guard down around her. He would never admit he had been thrown off, though. Instead, he straightened his posture, using the extra inch of height to sneer down at Kubota. “So my program kept the dweeb patrol from interacting with me. Seems like it’s working as intended.”

“But you didn’t want it to keep Yugi out, right?” Kubota said, a confident gleam in her eye that he recognized from when she dueled. She was right, of course, but he kept his mouth shut rather than admit it. “Whatever your program does, it obviously has a chain effect, since I haven’t interacted with any of your tweets. Maybe it doesn’t involve your tweets at all? I can puzzle this out all day, Kaiba.”

“Fine! If I tell you, will you stop talking?” Kaiba growled, frowning all the harder when Kubota grinned in response.

“Sure.” Her voice was as bouncy as the curls escaping her buns. Kaiba hated it.

Kaiba paused, trying to collect his thoughts. All the while, Kubota rocked on her heels, humming a melody he didn’t recognize. Finally, he happened on a good starting point.

“I thought I was aromantic.”

To his dismay, Kubota appeared to choke on air, coughing hard before breaking into disbelieving laughter. He crossed his arms, glaring at her, until she finally collected herself enough to say, “I’m sorry, I just— That is not what I expected you to say.” At Kaiba’s silence, she sighed, putting her hands up in a placating gesture. “Fine, I’ll be quiet. I guess you’re not aromantic?”

Kaiba thought about saying something in response to her air-quotes, but thought better of it. “I thought that I was above all of that. I didn’t have time for romance anyway—I still don’t. But then, you and Yugi got together, and it made me feel...ill.” Kubota’s face twisted, but he didn’t address it. “At first, I thought I was having romantic feelings towards you—”

“What?” Kubota’s horrified cry was a bit much, in Kaiba’s opinion, but he felt the same way.

“Calm down, that wasn’t the case.” He narrowed his eyes at Kubota’s exaggerated exhale, but continued. “After some thought, it became clear that… I was experiencing romantic attraction, but not towards you.” The other words on his tongue died once that horrifying revelation was out, and he snapped his mouth shut, letting his confession linger in the air.

Kubota’s brow was furrowed, however. Why was she confused? Kaiba had told her everything she needed to know! He was about to accuse her of taunting him when she gasped, eyes widening. “Are you… Coming out to me?”

Kaiba’s already-pale face became even whiter. “No?”

“Yes, you are! You’re coming out to me! And you started your coming out speech by telling me my boyfriend was your gay realization?” With every step, she advanced on him, until she was close enough that when she pointed her finger for emphasis, it brushed his chest.

“That’s—a blunt description, Kubota.”

She just shook her head. “I mean, it’s fine, I’m bi, but it’s a weird way to tell somebody you’re gay. And this relates to Twitter...how?”

Kaiba scoffed. “I could be bisexual.” When Kubota’s brow raised, a familiar irritation began coursing through him. Better than embarrassment. “I could! You don’t know that I’m—that I don’t like girls.”

Kubota scoffed right back, undaunted by his bristling. “Whatever you want to tell yourself. I just want to know what this has to do with blocking Yugi on Twitter.”

“It has everything to do with that,” Kaiba said, but his mouth dried up as he realized exactly why Yugi and the rest of his friends were blocked. He cleared his throat, then balled his fists and looked away from Kubota. The words felt like venom in his throat; the only way to alleviate the burning they caused was to spit them out. “I set up a program to block anybody who liked certain posts. Posts that talked about yours and Yugi’s relationship.”

A raised eyebrow. “Just talked about? That’s kind of a broad net, even for you, Kaiba.”

“Fine. They were posts which included photographic or video evidence of you being a couple. Usually with highly supportive comments. Those were the kinds of things I blocked, and the virus associated with it blocked anyone who interacted with a post I blocked using this system.”

Kubota shook her head. “Even your weird Twitter bots are like Duel Monsters cards. I’d say to get a hobby, but it seems like you’ve got your hands full already.”

“Are you challenging me? Because I’ll wipe the floor with you in a Duel, we both know that,” Kaiba growled.

“No,” Kubota said lightly, “but not because I think I’ll lose. You’re so predictable, Kaiba. I should have seen this coming, though I didn’t think you would be this weird about me and Yugi. Guess I was wrong!”

Arms folded, Kaiba surveyed his adversary. Five-foot-nothing, blowing a bubble of gum at him while she rocked back and forth on her booted heels, skateboard underneath one arm. Her Buster Blader cards came to mind, and he cringed internally. He made a mental note: find a copy of her Battle City deck and run simulations against it, to discern ideal counter-strategies.

But, he needed to respond to her before that could happen. “Hmph. As long as Yugi doesn’t forget who his true rival is, I suppose I don’t need to make a fuss about his romantic decisions.”

Kubota’s shoulders shook, but she looked him in the eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Kaiba. Are you...sure you’re okay?”

“Of course I am,” Kaiba said, more off-kilter than he’d ever been. “Now, the bell’s about to ring, and I haven’t finished my lunch.”

Checking her watch, her glossy lips parted in surprise. “Shit, you’re right. I gotta get back to Rintama. Don’t be a stranger, Kaiba!” With that, she ran toward the stairs, waving at him over her shoulder before the door slammed behind her. Kaiba exhaled slowly, and looked at the remains of his bento. He wasn’t very hungry, all of a sudden.

What had he done?

#my writing #yugioh fanfic #oc: kazuko kubota #anyway!!!!

10 notes · View notes

misskittysmagicportal · 4 years ago

Text

All You’ve Got Is Gold Part 1

FandomAU!: Billy Delaney/Cormac McNamara x Female OC

Warnings: Slight NSFW, mostly steamy fluff. Guys this ended up being long as fuck. And it’s really only chapter one. Or Part 1.

Jeanie leaned over the bar at Ewan's to pour herself another whiskey, ignoring the bartender as he chastised her. "C'mon lass, don't the wee ones file in to the grounds tomorrow?"

"Wee?" she gulped around her swallow. "Ewan, they're pubescent. You know me though, I like to have a bit of a glow every new semester. That way the parents think I'm truly invested in the well-being of the brats." Jean waved her glass around in the air. "Ok, not brats. Most of them are well-behaved and genuinely interested in learning. Not like the little bastards in America. I'd have 40 to a classroom back there. Saint Fergus barely has 40 students in the entire school."

Ewan took it as a sign and gave her a generous pour one more time, "Heard you cannae keep any professors for the pay. But your husband-"

"EX. As of last spring," Jean corrected.

"EX-husband found some new blood in a few of his University students."

"Aye," Jeanie imitated the Scottish brogue with perfection. "They're all in the corner over there with Dr Purves now."

She had half a decade to assimilate to the culture of the small, boring town just outside of Aberdeen where she followed Gordon and married him without any family or a job. He became head of the Physics and STEM department at the University of Aberdeen, working on projects and female students alike. Jeanie, having abandoned her Master's in Education, was really only qualified to student-teach at a local boarding school. Before long, lack of interest and the economy drove the numbers down to four or five dozen and a position of Headmistress open. At least it was a place to live and an existence that kept her mind off everything else.

"I would say don't look now, because here comes one of his students, but my darling who can keep their eyes off him." Ewan pointed behind his friend with damn near literal hearts in his eyes.

Jeanie glanced over her shoulder as a young man, early 20s? She couldn't tell. But he approached her at the bar. Her first glance became a double, and nearly a stare. Embarrassed, she whipped her head around quickly and blushed in Ewan's general direction. "Sweet Virgin Mary," she exhaled under her breath.

"I normally go by Delaney, but I suppose in certain company Mary will do," a soft Irish lilt.

Jean slow blinked as the bartender broke into a cheshire grin. She took a deep breath and turned towards the man now beside her and held out her hand. Blood pulsing in her ears because.. he was stunning. "Brave of a Celt to set foot in the land of Picts. Even braver for him to be in the presence of the biggest asshole in all of Scotland."

"Well from what I've heard she's more of an Ice Queen than an asshole," he squinted before smiling brightly. Green eyes sparkling in the low light of the bar. "Your.. partner put me up to it anyways. You know, say the bit about the ice. Sorry," he blushed but still held on to her hand firmly. "I've heard you're rather pleasant from the others. Just aloof as it were"

"EX!" Ewan and Jean exclaimed together, and the young man blinked responsively. "No sorries. Cold-hearted bitch is what some of the 6th years call me when I confiscate their illegals. Headmistress Jean Turner, but the two friends I have call me Jeanie. Drink?"

"Just one? I'll take 5. I have to catch up with the others." He hooked a thumb at the group of obnoxious men groping the female students who hung off of them as if they were celebrities. Taking what he was offered, chugging it quickly and shuddering. "Billy. Delaney it is. Well occasionally."

Jeanie and Ewan watched as he basically pounded every shot placed in front of them. Squinting off and on, as if he was trying to adjust to the ambiance. "Is it hot? It's hot in here. God I hate people. Those people. I will never fit in with the misogynists and knobs who prefer rugby and football to actually learning about the world." He pulled at the collar of his sweater before taking it off and draping it over Jeanie's chair. He wore a striped tee shirt underneath "Sorry. Sorry. I've got my nose in tech and books and maths algorithms most days. I forget how to socialize, so I really just want to blend in with the norms."

"You.. are.. fit." Ewan sputtered.

Billy snapped back to attention, his mind having drifted off to the same group Jeanie's eyes kept staring at. "What?"

"He's saying you are fucking fit, mate" Jeanie gaped.

"My body? I'm not really certain about that. I'm rather spindly wouldn't you say?” he shrugged while his cheeks flushed profusely. "My arms? Is it my arms? I swim. Clears my head from all the clutter." He was rambling now.

Jeanie and Ewan started laughing. "Relax! we're taking the piss, love. Your every move is being scrutinized. Now why abouts did Dr Purves send you over here? Surely he has fucking with me on his mind. Not unusual, humiliation has always been the name of the game."

Billy made a gesture that resembled adjusting non-existent glasses. He immediately dropped his hand and pulled a tenner out of his pocket. "To melt the ice, Gordon said. He gave me ten quid to hit on you."

"One of his students. What a lovely parting gift. I guess you're worth the loss of the house and the car," Jeanie stood back slightly to properly size him up.

Billy bit the entirety of his bottom lip, furrowing his brows, "I reckon you're worth more than a tenner to sleep with."

Jeanie blinked a few times, head tilted to the side to make sure she heard correctly. "SEX?!" she laughed, unable to help herself. "I don't exactly know what all of this," she waved her hand down his body, "would be doing even in the vicinity of sleeping with this," pointing to her own.

Confusion came over his face, "Am I supposed to be.. Is there something wrong with you that I don't notice? I, I can be kind of oblivious to loads. I think, really, Gordon goaded me into coming over here for my benefit as much as his amusement. I don't have too much experience, but you seem quite lovely you know. Your hair is," brows furrowed again but in thought, "Nicely red in this lighting. Reminds me of my friend from Ireland. Hannah."

Jeanie pinched the bridge of her nose as Ewan audibly guffawed from beside her. "Saints preserve us," the Scotsman said between gasps for air. "Donnae if you are taking the piss now, bloke, or are you really this bad at pulling birds."

Billy grimaced, the entirety of his face beet red. "Honestly, I never make it this far. I guess they usually pull me and I let them?" He started to fan his face, "seriously,,how fucking hot do you keep this pub?" His forehead bent forward to rest on the metal and wood counter of the bar.

Ewan covered his mouth and ruffled the curly head in front of him. "What a wee babby, Dr Purves sent into the lion's den. You just drank half a bottle of my best whiskey and mortified yourself in front of my favorite woman in this whole country. Maybe you ought to drink some water and have a sit for a few. We'll give you something to take to the bell-end in the back."

Jeanie and Ewan's eyes met, and she bit back a smile before leaning over to wrap an arm around her husband's latest protege. "Oh Ewan, I don't think it should be only a story. Why not give the evil genius a bit of a show. Right now he can see Mr Delaney is headed towards a spectacular crash. Im embarrassed. Mr Delaney's embarrassed. You're without very expensive whiskey. Gordon will never let anyone live this down for the semester."

She put her mouth near Billy's ear, "Ten quid is worth SOMETHING. Don't you think? Just look at me." He obliged quicker than she expected. Emerald eyes gazed upwards at her while the heart banged wildly in her chest. "What comes next?"

"I reckon I ought to put my arm on your waist. Right?" his voice now low in her ear and a hand slipped around her hips to draw her as close as possible.

No further guidance was needed as the liquid courage kicked in. Billy stood up and took Jeanie's face in his large hands before he drew her into a rather passionate kiss. Hers instinctively buried in his hair, their tongues dancing as the thought he hustled her entered the back of her mind. How was it that just a few minutes ago he looked ready to vomit at the thought of trying to come on to anyone, not just her. Now he was kissing her like they were Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Jeanie’s back slightly arched as Billy dominated her personal space with his height, a hand dangerously on the curve of her backside.

Ewan held his own face, eyebrows lost in his bangs as he watched the two of them go at it for well, he lost time. Glancing up he noticed just about everyone else in the pub was watching too. Gordon positively green with envy and turning purple with anger. Ewan saw him lean to a colleague and mouth, "That wasn't the fucking deal."

"Job done you two," he cleared his throat and practically shouted to break them up.

Jeanie's mouth was cold as it kissed the air. Billy had stumbled backwards a bit, mouth turned down ever slightly in a whoops motion. He walked, swayed really and floated by every single patron, including the group of men he came in with earlier. Fingers pulled at his bottom lip before he passed a devilish grin over his shoulder in Gordon's direction.

Jeanie and Ewan gobsmacked, but pleasantly amused, looked at one another. Mischief in their eyes as Jeanie noticed Billy's sweater draped over the bar. "Mr Balderston, I think I have a grad student to visit this week. It seems Mr Delaney might need his sweater because the Scottish nights get awfully cold."

Orientation came and went, and the students seemed to settle in quicker than normal. Quite possibly because this was the lowest attendance in the school’s 150 year history. They had been in danger of shut down, but Jeanie was informed that first Monday by the Board of Directors that an anonymous group of donors had decided, against their wishes, to purchase the school. Even if no students came back the following school year, or they were down to only 15 or 10 or 5, Saint Fergus would remain open for unknown reasons.

To say she was relieved was an understatement for Jeanie. Much needed repairs were being made, and someone had come to put together a state of the art security system. Which really confused the faculty and dwindling staff. Who would steal anything from this junk heap? Even their books were falling apart. Except they weren’t.

By the end of the first week, the girls in their dormitories and in the hallways were abuzz with brand new Literature and Maths books. They were suddenly interested in Oscar Wilde and Pythagoras. Jeanie watched as three 4th years sat in the windowsill and audibly cracked open their copies of “The Happy Prince,” stars in their eyes.

“Have you ever seen anyone as good looking as Dr McNamara? Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll pay attention to anything else but that voice,” she held her book against her chest.

“Oh c’mon Siobhan. It’s all about the eyes. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them. Proper green. If he sticks around, I’ll tell Daddy to talk to all of his barrister friends. Get them to enroll their kids here next year.”

The third girl was clearly in a daydream out the window, “All I heard today was blah blah blah ‘important in oratory history of Ireland’ blah blah. Lemme tell you, he can give me an oral exam any day.”

Jeanie cleared her throat and the students jumped nearly a mile high. “It would do you girls a kindness not to sexually harass our newest teacher at Saint Fergus.” The smallest hint of a smile on her lips. “Honestly, how is it that I'm headmistress here and have no bloody clue who this mysterious Dr McNamara is?”

“Well rumor has it, Miss, that he bought the school. Dr Purves hired him for a project at the uni, and he asked to be right in the thick of the school.” Siobhan shrugged.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh he’s installing the security system and having a new science laboratory built,” the daydreaming girl chimed in.

“I thought it was a grad student that was teaching here this semester? Have any of you heard the name Billy Delaney? I’ve been looking for him the last week or so, but I can't find him in Aberdeen housing. I’d like to return his sweater.” Jeanie’s face flushed pink, and the girls all cast a knowing grin in her direction.

“Has Miss got a crush herself?” Siobhan teased. “There’s no student teachers this year, but did you say Billy Delaney?”

“Yes. Does that name sound familiar to you too?”

The girls stood and handed Jeanie paperback books one by one. A stack of them, young adult novels that had grown incredibly popular the last few years. A stone wall with a glowing green and gold light graced the cover. “A Green Pool of Light: Emerald City to Oz Book 1” blazed across the top in that standard stereotyped font that represented all things Irish. The daydreaming girl, Aila Jeanie would come to find out, opened her copy and ran a finger down the page. “Yeah, he’s like a gender bent Hermione in these books.”

Jeanie frowned and flipped through the pages. The girls all started to laugh, not mean-hearted but in the way kids do at adults when they become lost in the world of anyone under 20. “That’s Dr McNamara, Miss Turner, and he’s living in the Boys Dorms.”

Jeanie blinked a few times, too many times in disbelief. The girls dissolved into hysterics and headed off to their next set of classes. Things maybe just got a bit easier but harder at the same time.

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

Jeanie stared incredulously at herself in the mirror. When exactly was the last time she showed up to any man’s room wearing only a coat and her underwear? Or well, a sweater in this case. She waited until the school was dark and quiet, she couldn’t risk one of the students seeing her dressed this way. On her way to do a dance of seduction. No, that’s humiliating. This was all humiliating.

What in the hell am I even doing? She thought. But it was too late, her legs carried her into the halls and across the floors and up into the West Wing where the boys slept. Tip-toeing quick and stealthy to the only source of light on this side of the school.

Jeanie took a deep breath and knocked on the open door. His back was to her, sitting with one foot up on the chair, a knee drawn up to his chest in the most awkward of positions. His dark head was bent over an abundance of little digital boxes spread across a desk that he tinkered with under a magnifying glass. Several computers and laptops spread around the room running codes attached to various projects simultaneously. Lost in his work, he ignored her.

Sighing heavily, Jeanie knocked louder this time. She raised one hand up the door frame, leaning in the most tempting pose she could muster at 11pm on a Thursday. His head popped up, and he only glanced over his shoulder in her direction before going back to his work.

“Well took ye long enough to find me, Miss Turner. Wanna see what I’ve put together for the school?” he queried without paying any attention to her attire.

Jeanie felt the bile rise in her throat. How in the hell was she ever going to feel better about herself when this man wouldn’t even acknowledge her? Was it too late to just slip back down in the shadows and melt away like she never existed? Still she took a breath and made her way to the desk and stopped directly behind him. She bent forward over his shoulder, her hair brushed against his face and neck. There was a nearly inaudible hitch in his breathing as she picked up one of the boxes. Did she make him nervous? Good, she thought and chewed her lip to prevent a smirk sneaking through.

“Well Mr Delaney. Or is it McNamara?” She studied the box carefully and poked at it with her nail.

“Doctor” he interjected huskily. He was nervous. “I’ve got a PhD,” he corrected.

“Are you even old enough for a doctorate?!” she retorted.

“I’m 24, thank you very much. I suppose that’s quite young to have several PhDs, but I don’t really keep track. If it makes you feel better, I'm also a chef. Cooking is just science after all,” he said almost dismissively. “Oh, That is L.I.S.A. you’re holding. Large-scale Interface Security Application.”

Jeanie snorted; she couldn't help it. “Do you mean an alarm system?”

“No it’s a specified security application that only I know how to program and,” he caught himself. “Yes. It’s an alarm system.” He rolled his eyes and gently took the machine back from her and placed it amongst the others.

“If you're working with Gordon on some kind of secret project, why are you teaching Literature?” Jeanie launched into everything without really meaning to. “You know Dr Delaney or whoever the hell you are, several of the girls brought to my attention that there’s a character in those young adult novels written by Hannah O'Flaherty. “A Pool of Green Light?” They are quite popular with our 1st-4th years. You're Billy Delaney aren't you? That’s why you gave that name in the pub the other night instead of your real name. That being Cormac McNamara, am I correct?” She placed her hands on hips hidden in the mass of wool and cable knit.

"Delaney is part of my last name. Hyphenated.” once again correcting the headmistress.

"Don't see much of that in men"

"Well it and my brain are about all my parents left me,” he moved to face his chair towards Jeanie and abandon his project.

"Well I bet they're proud of you, Cormac. Or Billy. Whatever.” she waved her hand dismissively. “You lot discovered.. what's it called?"

"Dimensional Dark Matter Transport with the possibility of Inter and Temporal"

"I mean, Portals. Or to put it in tv nerd terms: Beam me up Scotty"

"Precisely!” Cormac exclaimed and stood up excitedly. “And your ex-boyfriend-"

"Husband"

“Yes, husband. Well couldn't have been good at it if he's your ex.” He bit a finger absently, staring off towards the ceiling. Then snapped back to attention quickly, “Well he wants to find a way to make it.. Portable. Not just in plotted locations around the globe. And my business partners, em Hannah and Brett if you will, would like it privatized. Dr Purves, he wants the highest bidder."

"Military?” Jeanie blanched at the thought. Then her voice drifted off, “So the books ARE real.. You three are real. Hannah hid the stories in plain sight for the entire world to discover" And for the first time, she noticed a framed photo on the vast desk. A trio of happy young people: red-headed girl, pretty with large blue eyes. A floppy haired, tan surfer type. And a tall, lanky boy with oval glasses and severely parted hair starting to curl. Jeanie took the frame and traced her fingertip along the glass. “Sarah, Zack and Billy. This is like finding out Harry, Ron and Hermione are living, breathing people. And here you are, in my school.”

"I could show you if you want but.. Miss Turner, why are you only in a sweater?" Cormac stepped back and lifted his glasses and put them back down. He took them off hurriedly as if he was embarrassed to be wearing them. Turning once more to face her "Is.. Is that MY sweater? You're only in. Jeanie, Where are your pants?"

"Well I planned on seducing you Mr.."

"Doctor" -

Jeanie sighed as if she had been defeated, "DOCTOR Delaney-McNamara"

"Well Ive mucked that up I suppose,” a deep crimson set across his ears.

" I mean you can have your sweater back,” Jeanie arched an eyebrow seductively. Pulling the sweater over her head to reveal only a pair of her nicest black panties and bra underneath. Nothing else.

"Thank you it's quite my favorite-" Cormac’s eyes widened when he noticed the headmistress in front of him wearing nothing but lingerie. He squinted briefly while scratching his head. “Oh.. Jeanie. That’s..” his voice drifted off lost in shock.

Ignoring the embarrassment growing in her chest, Jeanie crossed her arms over her chest. “Why in the hell did you take your glasses off?”

“Oh, em.. Hannah always tells me I’m far more attractive without them.” he shrugged.

“Just like how Clark Kent is only slightly, by a molecule,” Jeanie pinched her fingers together, “less sexy than Superman with his glasses"

"But his glasses are fake,” Cormac ignored the obvious joke. “Right now I can just see shapes. Lovely, curved shapes! but only shapes." waving a hand in her general direction again.

Jeanie sat down on his bed without the sweater, to protect her now she just decided to go with her original plan. She crossed her long legs and leaned back with one hand back on the mattress. "Ok give us a look with the glasses on, Delaney.. Mcnamara?" This was frustrating.

"No, I reckon I'll have the kids call me Cormac" his hands on thin hips as he glanced upwards in thought

"Yes, erase that line of authority between yourself and 11-15 year olds. Don't underestimate them, Billy. Or Cormac. Or whatever. You are probably the smartest professor Saint Fergus has ever had, but you’re handsome. My girls will eat you alive"

"I wouldn't go that far!" he was exasperated for some reason.

"You have five PhDs and can’t even legally rent a car in America yet," Jeanie pointed out.

Cormac waved her off dismissively. “No! Not the smart or genius part. That is true,” he agreed without pretension. “It’s the handsome part,” he rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Look McNamara, I can’t tell if you’re being humble or an asshole. Your constant squinting and inflamed cheeks are ruining my perception.”

"Inflamed.." he touched his face "It's rather distracting. You in your. I may realize now that's your intent. I'm not really NEW to this, uh women coming on to me. It's just not always quite so forward?"

"Had I known you were a doctor of Quantum Mechanics, my approach would be a little less intense. 10 quid or not, you were the one kissing me last night." Jeanie got up off the bed "Ill go, but can I take your sweater with me? The students don't need to see this"

"Oh, em do ya have to? You're already here, and I'm sure quite lovely to look at."

"Cormac put your glasses on"

"Really?" he was adorably confused "I would have to take them off if we-"

"Have sex?"

"I didn't mean to imply- I've never really-" he nervously put his glasses back on. Then started fiddling with his hands and chewing on one.

"No fucking way!” Jeanie sat up quickly “But you're-"

"Oh please don't say hot."

"Well-travelled?"

"I am not completely virginal, I'll have ye know! I've done tings. SEXY tings. I've put my mouth and fingers in places on a woman. I'm just picky about where I’d put my penis."

Jeanie’s amused now, she can’t help it. An eyebrow raised and a laugh ready to escape because he's pacing around and gesticulating wildly now. "Are.. are you getting more Irish?"

"MAYBE I AM!" he shouted louder than he meant to, then unexpectedly pulled his shirt over his head.

Jeanie laughed at the absurdity now. "Cormac. Or Billy, whatever you are more comfortable with." She kneeled on the bed coming to the edge of it. "We don't have to do this. I'm not asking you to justify your virginity; that your business. It’s a patriarchal construct anyways to make us feel like we have to engage in sexual activity. Then when we do, we’re trash. It’s a no-win situation for anyone. I LIKE you. We have all school year to get to know one another better."

“I think Dr Delaney-McNamara, but Cormac works just fine for you” his tone all at once softer and deeper.

There was a weird electricity in the air, which very well could have been the obscene amount of tech equipment in the small dorm room. It could have also been that the atmosphere switched so fast from mortification to that moment your body knows something is going to happen. Jeanie’s head began to swim when she realized the young man in front of her was unbuttoning his jeans to step out of them.

“Bloody hell...” was all she could utter before he wrapped her up in his arms.

Jeanie’s hand on Cormac’s hip and the other tangled in his hair as they found themselves in another kiss. Mouths dancing together. She sat back and pulled him down so that he was laying completely on top of her now. His skin was hot almost like a sunburn. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Jeanie thought maybe a literal electricity had settled in him from using the portals so often all these years. Their tongues pushed back and forth, she realized his body began to feel similar to one of those static glass balls. The kind you press your hand against and every single hair on your body raises? It was strange and exhilarating and comical all at once.

The thought was fleeting though because Cormac’s lips made its way down Jeanie’s neck. The breath caught in her throat as he bit softly before trailing to her chest. His large hand gripped the flesh of her hip, snaking it around to grab at her backside before settling it between her thighs. The other struggled to unhook her bra while in their current position, his annoyance eliciting a giggle.

Managing to roll them so that she was on top now, Jeanie deftly reached behind herself to finish the job. Her breasts free, Cormac took one in his mouth. His tongue was warm against her skin as he began to suck and lick at a nipple and the flesh around it. Alternating between each hungrily, hand still lost in between her thighs. A finger began to trace the fabric of her panties.

Audible gasp now, as Jeanie fumbled to reciprocate any way she could. Kissing his forehead? or rocking her hips against his hand, she began to float outside of her body. What was she doing? Trying to feel wanted after all of this time? Maybe give the other adults something to gossip about over the weekend. Attractive new professor, the benefactor of Saint Fergus, fucking the boss his first week in. Jeanie was his boss, but also his subordinate? Because Cormac, with Brett and Hannah, owned her livelihood now.

“What a fine mess we’re in, Delaney,” she managed amongst the new spate of kisses.

Ignoring Jeanie’s frank statement, Cormac took to nibbling her throat again. Exchanging now for harder bites, just enough to let her know he had the upper hand. Fingers deftly pumping rhythmically with the pulsating of her body. He found that part of her with ease. The button Gordon never could without neon arrows.

“I walked through an alien portal at sixteen and made one of the greatest scientific discoveries none of us can talk about,” That Irish lilt heavy in her ear. “A fine mess has been the last decade of my life, Ms. Turner.”

There was almost a reckless abandon as Jeanie unexpectedly came. She cried out; it echoed off the dorm walls briefly before Cormac clamped a hand over her mouth. Their eyes both wide before they lost themselves in a fit of giggles.

Lying beside each other now on the bed, Jeanie felt self-conscious while Cormac absently twirled a finger in her mass of red hair. She felt his green eyes staring as she traced the infinity symbol with the tip of a nail on his chest. Their breathing patterns quickly marched in time together.

“Not sure why I have a gut feeling your timidity was a fucking game,” Jeanie spoke without a hint of anger. More like curiosity.

“Only just a little. I am far more capable of handling people in small doses. There's a certain anxiety hanging around the average university student. I finished undergrad in a year and graduate school in another. Never really fit in with most people my age. I thrived in a boarding college like this one. Never more than 15 children a class. Miss Murphy let me do as I please because I kept mostly to myself, even when she and the others were strangely codependent on my brain.”

Cormac’s eyes still trained on Jeanie while he spoke. “I didn't mind. I DON'T mind. My tinkering and projects work bloody fantastic now!” he exclaimed with pride. Those long fingers combed through Jeanie's hair. His gaze became nostalgic, “I transferred my AI tech into the lab at Aberdeen. There's my personal version. She's asleep right now,” he chuckled, gesturing towards the wall of monitors.

Jeanie grimaced, “She?!”

“Oh yes! SILVIA! I suppose she'll become LISA’s big sister.”

“You invented a primitive android.” her response was incredulous.

“No no. SILVIA was a lie detector I installed artificial intelligence in to play ch-..” Cormac caught himself. For the hundredth time that evening, “I suppose. Yes,” he tapped a finger against the soft dimple in his cheek.

“You suppose!” Jeanie reeled with laughter once more.

Cormac’s face flushed pink, “You know what I did to you was just basic anatomy that’s easily taught by reading a damn book. I reckon you'd be interested in what else reading has taught me about a woman's body.”

And so it began.

#robert sheehan #billy delaney #me and mrs jones #fluff #steamy?#cormac mcnamara #robert sheehan character fic

34 notes · View notes

diagnosed-by-doyle · 5 years ago

Text

Lecture of Love

Commission for Anonymous 💖 Thank you!

~~~~~

Pairing: Isaac Newton x Reader

Genre: smut

Kinks: fingering, vanilla sex

Word Count: 1653

~~~~~

“Here you go, Napoleon. A crepe with your favorite toppings.” You placed the plate and a fork down in front of him. “Let me know how it tastes. I’ve never made crepes before.”

After pulling out the chair across from him, you sat down and took a seat, resting your chin in your hand. The former emperor of France had come to find you sometime after dinner. He hoped that, for dessert, you would make a crepe for him. He could have made it himself, of course, but he was one of the several residents who shared the opinion that things always taste better when they’re made by you.

“It looks delicious. Thank you, ____.” He cut off a bite of the treat and used the fork to transfer it to his mouth. Surprised by the burst of delicate flavor, he gave a small moan. “And it tastes good too. Good job.”

~~~~~

“I’m glad you approve.” However, your thoughts weren’t really on Napoleon or how your cooking tasted. Instead, your mind was filled with thoughts of Isaac. You hadn’t seen him since dinner. He’d mentioned going to the library to find a book, but that was at least an hour ago. Perhaps he decided to take it to his room to start reading it. If that was the case, you didn’t want to disturb him.

“Thinking about Isaac again? Don’t look so surprised, nunuche. You’ve got that dopey smile on your face.” Napoleon chuckled and pointed in the direction of the city with his fork. “You know, those kids adore him. I’ve never seen children so excited to learn. It’s pretty cute.”

You threw your hands over your cheeks to cover the blush that you knew was forming. You’d gone with them to teach the orphans before, so you knew what he was talking about. The children would hang on to every word Isaac said, and they would tease him when he got flustered. It was the most darling thing you’d ever seen. It made you think about how he would handle his own child, one that you may one day carry for him.

Giddy with thoughts of the future, you giggled with excitement.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Isaac was listening in from beyond the open door. The sound of your beautiful laughter drew him in while he was searching for you. The young scientist peeked in and saw his dear friend sitting across from you. Was Napoleon the cause of your joy? Try as he might to push back the feeling, he quickly became green with envy.

He tucked the book under his arm and stepped into the room. “____.” The man hadn’t considered what he was going to say. Your name was the only thing he could think to utter from his lips.

Isaac’s appeared as if out of nowhere. You practically yelped his name from the embarrassment your recent thoughts were bringing. Regardless, that silly grin never left your face. You jumped up from your seat and rushed over to him. The physicist wasn’t keen on PDA, you knew, but you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him. “Are you done studying?”

“No, I had to wait for Leonardo to find it in his room…” His soft-magenta gaze drifted between you and Napoleon as he attempted to decipher the situation. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Of course not! We were just talking about--something really cute.” You caught yourself before you let the words slip out. It would just be way too embarrassing to tell him what you had been thinking.

Cute? Were you talking about Napoleon being cute? Whether that was true or not, his feelings of jealousy only grew.

“Are you busy right now? Leonardo asked me to send you to help him with something.”

“Really? Alright.” You turned to say goodbye to Napoleon. “Enjoy the rest of the crepe!”

Once you said bid him farewell, Isaac grabbed your wrist and led you upstairs. His grip was tighter than usual, you noticed, and he had walked right past Leonardo’s room.

“Isaac?”

He continued to walk along in silence only until he pulled you into his room and locked the door behind him.

“Isaac, what--”

He set the book on top of the coffee table, and his stare traveled toward the ground. “Do you like him?”

Who is he-- Then it clicked. You’d seen how hesitant he seemed when he entered the kitchen. He was asking if you liked Napoleon.

You reached out with one hand to cup his cheek and looked into his eyes. “I only have feelings for you. That won’t change.”

He placed his hand on top of yours. “Good. Even if you did, I’d never just stand by and let him take you from me.” His pouty lips were adorable, but his eyes invoked an entirely different feeling. They were burning with pure desire, with his need to show you his feelings for you were too strong to lose you to another man. He would reclaim you as many times as it took for his point to get across.

Isaac’s hands found their way under your blouse and rested on the soft skin of your waist as he closed the distance that separated the two of you. His lips captured yours in a kiss that showed only the surface of his deep admiration for you.

You didn’t hesitate to return his affections, throwing your arms around his neck and melting into his sweet kiss.

Slowly, he backed you up until you felt the back of your legs hit the armrest of the sofa. He gave you a gentle push, and you fell backward, landing on the sofa’s soft cushions. Your heart was racing as he looked over you and proceeded to adjust your body so that you were comfortable. After all, he was going to work your body until he was confident that you understood his feelings. He unbuttoned your blouse then pulled your corset down to let your breasts spill out over the top of it. He proceeded to hook his fingers inside the waistband of your skirt and panties then pulled them down and off of you.

Isaac held himself over you with an almost pained expression. “Do you know how much I love you? Do you understand?” He dipped down to capture your lips in a needy, rough kiss. “Open your eyes. I need you to look at me.”

Breathless from his kiss, you peered up at him through your lashes.

“You want me to bite you, right?” A shaky breath left him when he saw you nod. “I’ll try to...make it feel good for you…”

He leaned down again, this time to kiss your exposed skin. His hands traveled over you, caressing your curves and squeezing just tight enough to elicit a few soft moans from your lips.

Your hands slipped into his hair and grasped it in your fists, pulling him nearer the more you craved him.

His fingers pushed into your wet folds at the same time that he sank his fangs into the delicate skin of your shoulder.

Isaac’s eager moans reached your ears as he lapped up your blood and pumped his fingers in and out of your core.

Having so much pleasure bloom from two places at once set your heart racing. The ecstasy provided by his bite turned your breathing into quick, unsteady gasps.

Once he could hear your wetness rather than just feel it, he pulled his hand away from your heat and slowly licked your arousal from his fingers as if it were a treasured delicacy. “Mmmh...You taste soo good…” After looking over your bare body once more, he freed his member from his trousers, and a heavy blush bathed his cheeks in red.

“I don’t think I can be gentle,” He breathed. “I just can’t help myself when you look so appealing.” Isaac positioned himself between your thighs and slowly pushed into you.

“Ahh!” He was stretching you deliciously. Despite having a smaller frame than the other residents, he definitely wasn’t lacking in size.

He set a quick pace right away. Not once did the physicist’s gaze leave your eyes as he snapped his hips against yours over and over again. He really couldn’t control himself. The way your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, the way you were panting and crying out in pleasure because of him--those things only egged him on. He wanted to see you writhe beneath him more and more.

“____!” After several minutes, he was finally close to finishing. His hair, damp with sweat, was sticking to his skin, and he was beginning to throb inside you.

“Isaac, please--!” You were even closer than he was. He wasn’t going easy on you at all.

After only a few more hard thrusts, you threw your head back as an overwhelming amount of pure pleasure washed over you. His name spilled from your lips repeatedly. It was the only thing you could speak in between your sweet moans and gasps.

“Ngh!” His body tensed up, and his thrusts slowed down significantly as he rode out his high, his grunts and moans filling the room.

He collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your chest as he struggled to catch his breath.

You raked your fingers through his hair while he took a moment to rest.

When he eventually worked up a bit of energy to move, he pushed himself up enough to be able to look you in the eyes.

“Do you see now? I won’t let anyone take you from me. I--I love you…” It was cute that he was being shy now after all that.

Your arms wrapped around him, and you pulled him closer to you again as you assured Isaac of your love for only him. You gently pressed your lips against his, a seal of your eternal promise.

~~~~~

Please let me know if you want to be (un)tagged. My fic tag list is different from my OC tag list.

Tags: @niphredil-14 @ikemencrossedmyth @in-words-of-what-maybe @tsubaki3192 @agustd54

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp isaac

175 notes · View notes

palettepainter · 4 years ago

Photo

I gave my original design for the God of Death a major redesign - I felt as though going with the simple reaper design was too cliche, and I felt as though his design made him look too friendly, too meh, and I began to dislike it I wanted Death to be a mirror opposite to life, since in reality that IS was death is, so I based his redesign off Life - I gave death a more beastly like look and gave him the skull of a deer as a head (The skull is actually his face, it's not a mask) and gave him a much more darker and reddish body to give off that eerie/evil feel Some facts about Death! -The god of Death, also known as Mortem (translates to Death in latin), is a large beast whom has long black fur that acts as a cape - out of all the gods, Death and Life has been around the longest, when Life was born at the beginning of the creation of humans, death was made as her dark reflection, her opposite, himself and Life created to bring balance to both life and death.Death unlike Life, is a man of few words, often keeping to himself and spending his time alone. He's a calm, gentle soul who is often misunderstood by angels, due to his name and intimidating appearance he is often avoided by heavens subjects and so he often spends his time in solitude, unless he is with the other gods and council members, who do not mind his appearance or his powers. -Death is tall, holding place as the tallest god within heavens council thus far, due to this he often has to lean his neck down to hold any kind of eye contact with people during conversation. Due to his size Death has become very aware of his strength, and how a simple nudge could send someone very small falling and possible hurt them. He's learnt to be extremely gentle due to this, as well as very thoughtful of others and their well being -Whereas Life seems to glow and leave a sparkly trail with her flowing mane, as well as create flowers in her hoof steps when she walks, Death has the opposite affect. He gives off a dark dim glow, and when he passes by a patch of flowers they will wilt. This also applies to small creatures, often animals tend to avoid him due to his size, but if a small butterfly was to land on his nose the creature would die, this is something that Death is distressed about but he's very good at hiding it. The smallest touch from an angel and they will begin to feel there life drain, Death has become nervous and put off at the idea of physical affection because of this -Since the beginning of time a small part of Death has always felt envy towards Life: The Goddess of Life is considered the most beautiful and one of the most powerful beings to have ever existed, she has lived for a long, long time, she is very old, and very wise - she has come to be respected and loved by both the council and the angels of heaven. Life today is kind, loving, calm, motherly...and an utter kook. Death and Life in the beginning never met in the same place at the same time, both scared for what would happen if two opposite forces where to be in the same place. Millions of years later after earth has grown and human life is flourishing, Death and Life meet within an uninhabited area of forest, and for the first time since the beginning of the world, Life and Death meet. The two where both seeking an escape from the world and both sought out that comfort in the area of the forest - Life during this time was much more childish, some may even say selfish, she was bored of the council meetings and upholding a perfect image to everyone, she wanted a place where she could escape the responsibilities. Death was seeking a place to wallow in his own silence, seeking out a place where he could be alone and just listen to the sounds of the forest around him - but the two find themselves frozen when they both seem to have the same idea, and they come face to face. A fight upon the mortal realm would have landed the both of them in outlandish trouble with the council, and so instead a silent deal is made that the two would both share this space, but it wasn't until many years later did the two have their first conversation. Life is bitter towards Death, viewing him as an abomination, and Death views Life as naive - Life questions why Death continues to visit this forest when all he does it wilt her creations, Death replies in a quite voice, saying that if he didn't where would he go to escape from reaping souls and helping lives pass onto the other side: it's not just adults he must reap, sick children, the elderly, mothers, fathers, siblings, friends - all the misery and mourning that comes from death is a cause made by him..and Life is the only one who lets him off the job. Life learns that day that..Death does not seem to like his job, or the reputation he gets from it, she learns that, perhaps they are not as different as she thought. Life and Death begin to grow closer, learning that they share more similarities then they thought - Death for the most part watches from a safe distance as Life creates new flowers, heals the dying plants and purifies the lake with her magic, healing the fish and waterlife within. Death and Life come to enjoy the others company, and Death becomes a fan of Life's singing, which often lulls him to sleep. One day a nest of baby birds are learning to fly, Life watches with growing eagerness, but Death watches from afar from under the shade of another tree. Life encourages him over like a child, and Death is reluctant to approach, growing quickly anxious to be near creatures so small and fragile. Death pleas for Life to understand his fear, how he may unintentionally drain the life spirit from her creation, it takes much reassurance from life, whom promises Death that nothing like that will happen, and Death is finally persuaded to watch alongside her as the small birds take their first attempts to fly. The baby birds are clumsy on their first attempts, but even Death can not suppress the light chuckle as he watches the baby creatures take flight for the first time. The birds perch on Life's antlers, and in her happy state she offers Death if he would like to hold them, to which Reaper sadly remind her that he cannot hold creatures due to his abilities. Life, with her soothing tone, sits herself down next to Death, leaning against him slightly - Death does not have time to question her unusual act of behavior, before one of the baby birds flies up to perch on the end of his nose, it was scary to Reaper the lack of a reaction he had to the thought of knowing this small creature would slowly loose its life energy at being near him...but that did not happen. Being near Life, the source for all creation, has cancelled out his death, and for the first time in forever, Death was able to see up-close the wonders of life: the bird is..so small, and fragile, its feathers are fluffy and messy, and its chirping out a tune, Life says it is singing for him..and Reaper finds himself curiously leaning back against Life as more of the birds come to land upon his antlers To this day, this memory is Reaper's favorite -The forest in which Life and Reaper met in becomes known as the Oceonica Forest, a dense forest of undergrowth that separates the human world from Safe Haven, a sanctuary build by the first Peace Keepers years ago, once it was shown that creatures of magic and humans where simply not destined to live together in peace, not quite yet. The Oceonica forest is vast in its size, and many travelers have gotten lost within in. Death and Life still continue to meet in secrecy at the forest, it is there own little sanctuary -To this day Life and Reaper remain very close, and the two do feel some odd attraction or pull towards the other, this is not something either have the courage to bring up and discuss with each other or with the rest of the council. -As well as being close with Life, Death is also a surprisingly close friends with the god of Moon. Before Death came to be close to the god of Life and far before the council was formed, Death often enjoyed looking up to the stars when he felt especially lonely, Moon was the first friend he ever made, as Moon did not hold any sort of grudge towards Death for simply being something he had no control over, Moon approached Death during a starry winters night - both where lonely and found comfort in the other (and Death came to enjoy Moon's biscuits that he often brought with him when they ever talked), to this day they remain very close friends DO NOT REPOST/EDIT/COPY/TRAEC MY ART OR OC'S!!! Life/Death me

#God of Death #Death #Life #Angel OC's #Doodles #My OC #Palettes art

49 notes · View notes

gone4neow · 4 years ago

Text

MIGHTY | ⓅⒸⓎ

c h a p t e r o n e

- park chanyeol x oc

- mulan rewrite [very loosely inspired by the disney version]

- warnings : cursing, dark themes, extreme violence

- work count : 3,457

previous chapter or next chapter

——————————————————————————

Working the cart at the street market was always a thrill. It wasn't that the job was particularly fun, but it was certainly never boring. Some customers were regulars who showed up weekly, but new customers came and went often. Some of the farmworkers loved working at the market simply because they adored the socialization that came with the job, but Eunyeong felt indifferent towards the job. It was nice to get off the farm and see what was going on in town, but sometimes the interactions with the townspeople really ruined the job for her. Elderly women judged her for not being at home with a family to take care of, younger women did little to hide their envy of her position, and men of all ages seemed to have a personal agenda to remind her that she was horrible for working a man's job. Ignoring these people had become a sort of second nature for her.

She had woken up that morning with dread in her bones. It was her turn to manage the cart at the market today. Her uncle had told her that if she could do this job two times a month then he would allow her to work on his farm. The prospect of having a job was enough to make her agree to any terms he had for her. At first, she was absolutely miserable after working in the market. It was difficult and it took a huge toll on her mental health after receiving harsh criticism all day long. There were multiple occasions where she had cried; the fear that she had been in over her head when seeking out a job haunted her. It was her father who had encouraged her to keep going. Though he didn't understand her extreme need to work alongside men, he hated to see her spirit so defeated.

"You are different, Eunyeong. This world isn't ready for a woman like you. If you let them bring you down now, then they will never be ready. If you want them to understand, you're going to have to make them understand. Push forward. Fight for what you want," he had told her weeks ago. "I believe in you. Now you have to believe in yourself."

She had taken his words to heart. He was right, just as he usually was. She adored her father. Though many saw the man as a stony figure with a hard exterior, she knew that his heart was soft and full of love. He was brave, compassionate, and cared deeply for those closest to him. If there was ever an idol figure in her life, it was him. Even when her mother scolded her for pursuing her personal goals, her father had been there ready to support her wholeheartedly. Because of this, she was eternally grateful.

When she had arrived at the marketplace, her hair was messy and her cheeks were flushed. She had arrived a few minutes late due to oversleeping. Her coworker looked over at her with a judgmental expression on his face before he tossed her a small bag to collect coins in. Relief flooded her chest when the old man turned from her without giving her a lecture about how she should be on time. For the next few hours business went as usual. She worked alongside her coworker in silence, only speaking to customers when spoken to. A gentle smile formed on her face every time she handed over a basket of vegetables, but the customers seem to be wary of her and never returned it. Things were going just fine - that is until a familiar man showed up. He came with three other men. Each had wide smiles on their faces. They were around fifteen years older than Piya was and had all grown up in the same village as she had.

"Eunyeong, it's so lovely to see you here," Howon greeted the woman in a smooth voice. His eyes bore into hers as if they were lasers, analyzing every detail of her soul.

Her stomach twisted, but she smiled a wide, fake smile. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Me?" The man questioned, raising his eyebrows. He hummed as if in deep thought. "I did come here with something very specific in mind today, but it seems I've already found it on my own."

"What would that be?" Eunyeong asked him, the smile on her face faltering. Her hands fumbled around as she pretended to organize the baskets sitting on the table in front of her. She only stopped when the man's right hand shot out and wrapped itself around her wrist. Her movements froze entirely.

"You," Howon said. A smirk formed on his face as his companions laughed behind him. The woman went to pull her arm away from his grasp, but his grip only tightened. She clenched her jaws out of anger. How dare this man?

"What's this?" Her coworker blurted out from beside her. She turned to look at the older man. He looked between her and Howon with confusion.

"Ah! It's nothing, old man. Return to your job," Howon brushed the man off in a patronizing tone. Eunyeong could see her coworker tense up at the man's words.

"Let go of her wrist. We both have jobs to do," He instructed Howon. The younger man scoffed and his grip grew even tighter around Eunyeong's wrist. The pain was nothing compared to the glimmer in the man's eyes. It was as if he was testing her, seeing how far he could push her before he would break her. So she stood taller, lifted her head, and looked at him with a stare that was even more chilling. His thin lips parted in surprise when her free hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. The grip around her wrist lessened as she forced hers tighter.

He hummed as if approving of her actions, but she could see the anger on his features. "What a bold woman you are."

The release of her wrist coaxed Eunyeong to pull her hands away from the man entirely. With one last smirk cast in her direction, the man turned and left the market booth. His followers turned and mirrored his movement.

Eunyeong risked a glance at her coworker, expecting him to be sending her scathing expression. Instead, the old man was staring off at the retreating group of men with a stoic expression on his face. When he finally looked to her, he said, "I'm going to have a talk with your uncle this evening. I'm going to request to share the same schedule as you."

The woman instantly grew nervous. She hadn't meant to cause a scene, but she could already feel that today had been the start of something unfortunate. Usually, her coworkers ignored Howon's behavior altogether, so she never had to worry about her uncle punishing her for any incidents occurring before.

"That's alright. I can manage on my own," she told the man. "It means a lot to me that you care, Jin-kyu, but please don't talk about what happened today with my uncle."

His eyes searched her face for a sign that she was downplaying the situation. He was sure that a young woman like Eunyeong must've been fearful of a hooligan such as the man he had just witnessed. Even after a few seconds had passed, he found no sign of fear. Of course, he was confused by this, but instead of arguing with the woman, he reluctantly nodded his head in agreement with her request. She released a breath of relief before she smiled a polite smile at the man. He gave a low grunt in response and then turned to continue doing his job.

It had been just before the sun began to set that the market began to close for the day. Eunyeong helped Jin-kyu lock up the farm's shop. They each carried a stick with two baskets full of excessive products hanging on the ends. In the royal areas of the country, they may have looked out of place. In the farming area of the country, they looked right at home. It was a common sight to see farmworkers struggling to carry such a weighted stick around on their shoulders. They walked alongside together along the gravel road. Their feet ached, but the pain they would feel later would be worth it. There was pride in working until your body ached. Not because it was fun to feel such pain, but because the pain seemed little when compared to the sight of their families enjoying a meal they had worked so hard to provide.

"Do you think that uncle's cow has gone into labor yet?" Eunyeong spoke up, breaking the silence that had embedded itself between the two farmworkers.

"Should have. Why? Looking forward to seeing the calf?" Jin-kyu responded. She could hear the teasing in his voice. Her mouth had just opened to reply when the old man next to her went crashing down onto the gravels beside her. Eunyeong gasped loudly, throwing the stick on her shoulders to the ground quickly. A figure raced her to Jin-kyu's body and before she could help the man to his feet, he was being turned over onto his back. A fist crashed against the old man's rough face. And then another. Eunyeong screamed out in anger. She kicked the old man's attacked away from his body. Jin-kyu looked up at her with wide eyes. His cheek was already beginning to bruise from the attack.

"Run Eunyeong," he spat out. When his attacker when to touch him again, the woman turned and lifted her discarded stick from the group. She turned and swung the wooden stick at the stranger's back as forcefully as she could manage. He howled with pain and covered the sound of the stick colliding against his figure. Taking advantage of the man's weakened state, she kicked him to the ground again before she rushed to help her coworker stand up. Together they ran towards the farm. Eunyeong held onto her stick as if her life depended on it. Every few seconds she would glance over her shoulder to see if the attacker was still following. He seemed to vanish completely after a few moments passed.

The woman was taken by surprise when she turned her head towards the direction of the farm. It had been so close, yet something was blocking her and Jin-kyu from reaching it. Three men stood in the middle of the pathway. She could recognize one as the previous attacker. Both she and her coworker came to a quick halt. Their chests rose and fell with short, quick breaths.

"Jin-kyu, what should we do?" Eunyeong breathed out. When she looked over at the man he was staring straight ahead with wide eyes. He was as clueless as she was. She grimaced at the realization. They were in trouble now. Her fingers wrapped themselves even tighter around the stick in her hand. If these men were looking for a fight then she would surely do her best to give them one.

The men suddenly raced towards her and the old man next to her. She swallowed nervously before she threw herself in front of Jin-kyu. When the first man reach her, she sent a forceful kick towards him. He grabbed her leg and held it as a blocking mechanism. Without his hands, he wasn't able to block the blow of the stick in the woman's hands. A vibrant ping echoed throughout the evening air as the stick clashed against the man's skull. He staggered backward, his hands flying up to hold his injured head. The woman quickly went to work with the other two men. She swung her stick towards them with confidence. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins as she did her best to defend both herself and Jim-kyu from the men. She was able to get one of the men in the eye with her stick. He cried out with surprise and stumbled into his companion, causing both of their balances to weaken.

Seeing an opportunity open up, she shot her foot out and wrapped it around the uninjured man's ankle before harshly jerking her foot. The man lost his balance completely and crashed to the ground. The other man still held onto his eye. Jin-kyu surprised the woman by swinging his fist at the attacker. The man's hand left his eye as he tried his best to catch his fall. He crashed onto the man who had just gone down seconds before him. The third man suddenly reappeared. He was strong this time, but his focus was no longer on the old man. Now he had a new mission: get rid of the stick in Eunyeong's hands. She fought against his tugs on the stick but ultimately lost her stick. Her eyes widened as a smug expression formed on his face. He snapped the wooden stick over his knee, something that should have been impossible.

"Howon sends a message. He wants you to know that he won't stand for your bold behavior," the man spoke in a deep voice. The other two men stood up soon after. The expression on their faces was less than pleased. The woman screamed in protest as the two men came behind her and held her arms behind her back.

"Eunyeong!" Jin-kyu gasped, stepping towards her. The third man decided at that moment to swing his arm towards the old man's face. Jin-kyu fell onto the ground. He crawled backward as his attacker took a step closer to him. Eunyeong struggled against the men's hold on her arms. Desperation was crawling up her arms and across her chest. If the man was too rough with Jin-kyu then he would kill him. She watched as the man pulled his fist back, ready to deliver yet another blow to the old man. Her eyes narrowed as she watched. Never before in her life had she felt so useless. The man moved his arm, but he wasn't able to land a punch. A blurry figure had tackled the attacker to the ground. Eunyeong could feel the men behind her move and her arms were free. She rushed to Jin-kyu's side and helped him back to his feet quickly. Instead of fighting, she decided to hold onto his hand and rush away from the scene and towards the farm.

She didn't spare a glance over her shoulder. Her heart was pounding and a light layer of sweat coated her skin. She didn't stop running, even when she and the old man had gone through the farm's entrance. Her feet only came to a stop when she had entered her uncle's office. He sat on the floor in front of a table with tea sitting on it. When he got a good look at the frantic pair in front of him, he shot up from his place on the floor.

"What's happened?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"A damned barbarian boy from the market sent his monkeys to attack us!" Jin-kyu growled out. Eunyeong's eyes widened as she looked over the old man.

"Why would he do that?" Her uncle questioned. She looked over at the middle-aged man. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked between her and her fellow farm worker.

Jin-kyu pulled his wrist away from Eunyeong's grasp. She hadn't even noticed that she was still holding onto the man. "He's infatuated with her. Showed up at the market earlier today and tried running over her like some big man. Must've gotten mad that she stood her ground."

Eunyeong's uncle looked her in the eyes. She could see the shock swimming in his dark irises. "Is this true?"

"Jin-kyu has never been a liar," she breathed out.

"If there's trouble like this happening because of you, girl, then I refuse to allow you to work on my farm any longer." Her uncle told her with a stern voice.

"Uncle, it isn't my fault-"

"I don't give a damn whose fault it is!" The man roared, cutting off her words before she could finish speaking. Her eyes widened at the man's outburst. She had never been spoken to by him in such a manner.

"Sir, she didn't mean to cause any trouble. It was the man's fault," Jin-kyu came to her defense. "She works hard."

Her uncle stared at her a few seconds longer before he turned to face the wall behind him. His hand raised to rest on his hips as he scoffed with disbelief. He stayed this way for a minute or so before he suddenly turned and pointed a finger at his niece.

"Let's go. I'll walk you home tonight. It's too dangerous for you to be on your own," he told her.

The tense woman turned to look at her coworker and bowed. "Please get some rest tonight. I am sorry for causing you trouble."

The man didn't say a word to her. She briefly met his eyes before she slipped out into the evening air. Her uncle followed closely behind her. There was a tense silence between the two as they walked through the farm fields and towards her home. She could see her mother's figure on the porch, watching as the two approached from the distance. When they finally arrived, her mother took one look at her and began clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"You look filthy child," the woman scolded her. Eunyeong could only look down at her dirty hands with shame. How would she face her father after causing such a disturbance for the farm? It was only a matter of seconds before her uncle would begin explaining why she would no longer be permitted to work.

"Where is my brother?" The man beside her asked. She almost winced at his tone. Her mother's eyes grew bigger at the sound. They averted from her uncle's face and fell onto Eunyeong.

"He's inside. His leg is hurting him more than usual today," Eunyeong's mother explained. "What's wrong?"

The man glanced down at his niece. She could feel his eyes on her. Shame was burning her skin. "I need to speak to him for a moment."

The young woman watched as her mother stepped aside, giving her uncle complete access to the entrance of the house. He did not hesitate in walking inside.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," Eunyeong spoke slowly. Her head was bowed with shame. "Uncle is going to forbid me from working on the farm any longer."

She heard her mother draw in a deep breath. For a moment she thought this was due to surprise brought on by the news. She was corrected when her mother sighed and said, "It was only a matter of time. Women are not meant to be farmworkers."

Her mother's words were more painful than her uncle's had been even when he was yelling at her. Her shoulders dropped while her eyes quickly glossed over with tears. Knowing that she had let down her family was the worst feeling she had ever felt. A blade in her heart would have been less painful than the feeling she experienced at that moment. Footsteps approached the entrance of the house. Her uncle was already departing? She couldn't look up. She didn't want him to see her shameful expression or the tears in her eyes. The feeling of his eyes on her felt like the sun's rays on the hottest summer day. The air in her lungs got stuck in her throat. The man didn't say a word to her, but bid good night to her mother. He bowed and then he left.

Her mother didn't waste another second outside. She listened as the woman retreated into their home and when she knew the woman was gone completely she dropped to her knees. Her head raised so that her eyes could take in the evening sky. Silent curses left her parted lips as her hands swatted away stray tears. The universe had given her an opportunity to prove herself worthy and she had failed to do that. It hurt to know that even her best was not enough.

"I won't give up," she whispered to the empty sky. It was a promise to both herself and the universe that tonight's events wouldn't hold her back from pursuing her goals. She would show her parents that she could do it. She would continue to put food on the table for them. Nothing, not even a foolish man like Howon, could stop her.

34 notes · View notes

angelliev · 4 years ago

Text

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Fifteen - Like Mother, Like Daughter

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Aria suffers with the aftermath of being disowned by the man who raised her, and seeks the truth from Elaine, her mother.

Warnings: Pregnancy, morning sickness, crying, light angst, typos probably and fluff.

A/N: I am so sorry I haven’t posted for almost a week now. To be honest I have been on a writer's block and had no idea where I wanted to go with this series, but know I'm back on track and ready to write my big fluffy heart out. Enjoy. (Not my GIF. Credits for the owner. I don’t own the show or any of the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

Feather light kisses are placed delicately on my peach soft skin by JJ’s luscious lips. I sigh as he finds my certain spot. His rough hands roams my body, treating me like porcelain. I smile at him as he kisses downward until he reaches my stomach, places a sweet gentle kiss. He hugs my waist as he lays his head on my stomach for a moment. He just smiles for a moment, not saying a word.

“I love you. You know that?” He looks up at me with such admiration. “I know. You make sure to not let me forget.” I chuckle, playing with a strand of his hair. “Need to make sure my babygirl feels loved.” The two of us giggle together. “I still can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad.” I take his hand in mine before leading it down to my stomach. “Well, this baby is going to have one amazing father, and I’m more than happy that I’m having your baby.” I kiss him sweetly. He smiles softly. Ever since we learned about the pregnancy, he’s been extra gentle with me. It’s kind of adorable to be honest. He treats me like glass, I swear. “C’mere.” He says seductively.

I giggle as my head hits the pillow. His lips massage mine. His hands find my waist. His body nestles between my open legs. I pull him closer, leaving no space between our bodies as our make out session ensues. I let out a gasp when his hands cup my breast, toying with the buds, causing them to harden. My hands travel down his naked back. Just as they find his belt, John B busts the door open before shooting us with the damn squirt gun.

“C’mon man! Cut it out!” JJ throws a sock at the cockblocker. “Nope! Trust me I’m happy for you two, but before you know it you’ll be popping out like ten babies! Stop attacking the pink fortress!” He scolds JJ before leaving, keeping the door open. “Did he seriously say the pink fortress?” I asked in disbelief. JJ just nodded in embarrassment. The two of us eventually get up and make our way towards the kitchen where John B was cooking. The smell of bacon invades my nostrils, making my stomach turn and face go green. I waste no time to sprint to the bathroom, JJ follows behind me. I hunch over the toilet as I vomit the contents of my stomach. JJ hands grab a hold of my hair.

I release a string of coughs and wipe away a few tears as I finally finish. JJ wipes my mouth with a few napkins. The disgusting taste of vomit still lingers in my mouth. “I’m sorry. God, that’s so embarrassing.” I mutter under my breath. “You have nothing to be sorry for babe.” JJ hands me my toothbrush and toothpaste. I slowly brush my teeth as I lean over the sink. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Yeah. Go eat breakfast. I just need a minute.” I reply. He plants a kiss on my temple before leaving me to gaze at my reflection.

I’m pale as shit, my lips are chapped, my hair is a mess and eyes are glossy. I look like a fuckiing train-wreak. I’m four weeks pregnant as of now. I haven’t been to school ever since I got out of the hospital. I’ve been crashing out at John B’s since Claude kicked me out. I haven’t really found the courage to talk to my mother. Thankfully, she’s giving me space. I don’t hate her. I can’t. She is so sweet to me and has never let me down, so how could I? I just haven’t talked to her because I’m avoiding a certain conversation.

I’m still having a difficult time trying to acknowledge the fact that Claude isn’t my dad. Learning the truth made me feel multiple things. For starters, I felt sort of relieved to know that I wasn’t related to someone as despicable as him. But then I felt upset that there was someone out there who was my real father and I don’t even know his name. I begin to wonder how my life would’ve turned out if I knew him though.

I walk out of the bathroom to see the boys slinging their backpacks on. “Feeling better?” Asked JJ. “Yeah, just some morning sickness.” I blow it off. “There’s still some food left if you’re hungry.” John B points to the pan. “Thanks, I’ll eat in a minute.” I smile at the offer. “You sure you don’t want me to stay here with you babe?” JJ asked, holding my hands. “Positive. You need to go to school.” I lead him towards the van. “Okay, but if anything happens, call me.” He demands. “Yes lover boy. Be good.” I peck his lips through the window before the two drive off.

I’m grateful for John B letting me crash out at his place. I can’t stay with Sarah, since her parents hate me, and I definitely can’t stay at Charis’ since her mom no longer wants to be associated with the Prescott family. Thankfully, John B stepped up and offered his place until we had my living situation under control. Ever since then, I’ve been sharing a room with JJ. Living in the chateau wasn’t bad though. I adore the little fish shack on the marsh. I decided now would be a good time to clean up around the shack since the boys were. Plus, I have nothing else better to do.

I think telling the pogues about the pregnancy was scarier than telling Claude. My worst fear was losing them, since they’re like a second family to me. I expected them to judge me as I broke down in tears. Instead, they all wrapped me up in their comforting arms.

It was around noon when Sarah had decided to stop by. Lately she has been bringing me my homework, since I refuse to show my face at school. We talked about the usual. The school has been talking nonstop about me being pregnant. I couldn’t help but laugh at the stupid rumors Sarah told me about. Might as well let them think what they want to think. “So, I ran into your mom this morning.” She said all of the sudden. “How is she?” I asked nervously as I fiddle with a pencil. “She misses you. She’s a little scared though. She thinks you hate her.” She answered. “I don’t hate her. I could never.” I say. “Then talk to her. Let her know that. She wants to explain herself. She wants to tell you about your father.”

“You want some coffee?” I attempt to change the conversation. “You can’t ignore this forever you know? Might as well hear her out. Aren’t you at least curious as to who your dad is?” “I’m curious, but I don’t want to meet him okay?” I mumble. “But why not?” Sarah pushed. “Because I’m scared. What if he wants nothing to do with me? How would he react to find out he’s a father and soon to be grandfather?”

“You won’t know unless you find out. I can’t say I know how he’ll react, but I do know that whatever happens, you’ll still have me, JJ and the pogues by your side.” She takes my hand, running a thumb over it. “I’m not saying you have to meet him right now, but you should really see your mom. Please? For me?” She pleaded with her puppy dog eyes. “Fine.” I reluctantly agreed with the persuasive girl.

Later…

I didn’t know what to expect as I walked through the hospital halls to my mom’s office. My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing from the nerves that were piled up in my body. I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. Her head pops up and her eyes light up to see me. She doesn’t wait to jump out of her seat and engulf me in a hug. “Aria! I was worried about you. I’m so sorry about everything.” I couldn’t help but return the tight hug. “I’m okay mom, and you don’t need to be sorry.” I reassured her.

“What brings you here?” She asked curiously. I sigh. “I came here to listen.” I answer. “Oh, well what do you want to know?” She asked. “Everything. I just want the truth.” My mother sighs before sitting back down. I take a seat from across her desk. “I want to know about my real dad.” I said, instead of beating around the bush. My mom hesitates for a moment, not sure if she wanted to speak.

“Before I met your father, I grew up in the outer banks on figure eight. Growing up my parents were very strict. Believe it or not, Pogues vs Kooks was still a thing back then. I never really cared for it though. To be honest I envied the pogues for the longest time, because I was sheltered. All the friends I had were fake. Every day was the same old routine. My life was agonizingly bland. I absolutely hated it. I already knew what the rest of my life was going to look like. That was until I met your real father. His name was Jamie Wilson. He was a Pogue at heart. Carefree, rebellious, energetic and adventurous. He was a bit of a heartthrob. He made me feel like a princess. He changed my life. He taught me how to love and be truly happy. We started dating. My friends stopped hanging out with me and my parents were pissed. I was forbidden to see him, but I didn’t let that stop me. I spent every day with him, much to my parents' dismay. I have never been so in love with someone in my entire life. To this day I hold him close to my heart.” She smiles at the memory of him.

“So what happened?” She lets out a long sigh. “My father purposely took up a new job in Connecticut. They packed up quickly and I was forced to say goodbye. He gave me this promise ring that he saved up his money for.” She showed off the vintage ring on her finger. I’ve seen her with this ring for years, but never thought anything of it.

“He didn’t promise me marriage, yet he promised to always love me, no matter how far apart we are, no matter how old we grow, he’d never stop loving me. He didn’t want to hold me back, he wanted me to move on with my life.” A tear fell down her face.“Two years later I had graduated and went to Yale University. That same year I was introduced to Claude. I married him at nineteen and had your brother when I was twenty. At first our marriage was going pretty smoothly and the two of us were happy. He was a different man back then. I was able to move on.” This all came as a shock to me. “What made him change then?”

She just shrugged her shoulders. “I had Jennifer when your father started to change. He was just becoming more stressed with work, his alcohol intake grew, he started to close off from everyone and he began having a wandering eye. I had suspected for a while that he was seeing other people, but I never wanted it to be true. So I denied such things, that was until I had caught him with one of his mistresses. At that point I had broken down. I had gotten so mad, we both just started yelling at each other. I walked out that night, which seemed to scare him, cause the next morning he was apologizing. It was then I told him that I needed some time apart from him and the kids. Damian was sent off to boarding school and we had hired a nanny to watch Jennifer.” My mom seemed embarrassed to admit that.

“I decided to take a trip to the outer banks. All of my happiest memories were there and that’s what I needed the most. Part of me was hoping to find Jamie, yet I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I can’t even describe how I felt when I saw him. For a moment I thought he wasn’t real, that was until I was in his arms again. At that moment I didn’t want to leave, I had considered running away, leaving my life behind to be with him, but I couldn’t do that to your brother and sister. I was happy and carefree that whole week. I had fallen in love with him all over again, and I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of our love. When I got back to Connecticut, I had made a deal with Claude. I said I wouldn’t go through with the divorce, but we had to move, have a fresh start. He had agreed and we moved to Chapel Hill. He still continued to cheat on me, and I continued to see Sam, since we were closer. I’d go see him whenever Claude was on a business trip, which was often. Things got serious however when I got pregnant with you, by Sam. Thankfully, I was able to convince Claude that you were his, due to his many blackouts.” My mom rolls her eyes.

“Does Jamie know I’m his?” “Yes, I told him immediately about the pregnancy. Sometimes when Clause was on a business trip, I’d take you to see Jamie as a baby, but as you got older he couldn’t really see you without you or Claude becoming suspicious. So, I had convinced Claude that we move to the outer banks. I didn’t want to divorce Claude until you turned eighteen, because I didn’t want to risk losing you and the kids in a custody battle." She begins to cry. I can’t help but feel slightly guilty. “Are you still seeing Jamie?” I asked. “Yes. Aria, I’m so sorry for any pain that I have caused you. I should’ve thought more about you and your siblings, but Claude threatened that if I divorced him, he’d make sure I’d never see you guys again. He's a powerful man Aria, if he wants something, he’ll get it. I can’t help how I feel about Jamie. I love him the way you love JJ. I just hope you don’t hate me, because I love you so much sweetheart.” She sobbed. I couldn’t stop myself from hugging her.

“Please don’t cry mom. I don’t hate you, I could never. I love you too. You have always been there for me. You’re like one of my biggest cheerleaders. I couldn’t ask for a better mom. Your happiness is mine. If Jamie makes you happy you should stay with him. Just leave Claude. I’m an adult no, there’s no point in a custody battle now.” “I don’t want to let anyone down.” She wiped away her tears. “Mom, for years you have worried about everyone else’s happiness, for once just worry about yours.” I tried to convince her.

She just smiles at me sweetly. “Thank you sweetheart. I guess we’re more alike than we think. Always chasing the boys we can’t have.” We laughed together. “Like mother, like daughter.” I laugh. She tucks a piece of hair behind my hair. “Love is a wild ride isn’t? I swear, us girls are cursed to fall in love, it’s what makes us girls.” I nod in agreement.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” She questioned. I thought about the offer for a moment, not thinking of anything I could possibly want or need, but something that somebody else needs. “Now that I think about…”

Later that night….

I came back home just as the sun began to set. I find JJ tinkering with the car. His eyes are so focused and trained on the vehicle and tools in his hands, he doesn’t even notice me approach him. “Hey baby.” He’s taken away from his zone, surprised to see me. “Hey babe. Where’d you go?” He asked, pecking my lips. “I went to see my mom.” I answered with a small smile on my face, he smiled back. “Really? How did that go?” He was interested and surprised. “Great. We just talked. She told me about my dad.” This made JJ take me in his strong muscular arms. “He lives here in the cut. He’s a firefighter. His name is Jamie Wilson.” This makes JJ jump up all of the sudden startling me. “No way! You’re dad is THE Jamie Wilson?!” JJ’s voice was laced in excitement, like a child meeting their favorite character at DisneyLand. “Wait, you know him?” I asked confused. He looks at me with a bewildered face. “You don’t?!” He almost looked offended.

“I wasn’t aware he was a celebrity around here.” I chuckled at JJ. “Are you kidding me? Everyone in the OBX knows him. Everyone down here in the cut admires him. He’s like most Pogue person you could ever meet.” Well I wasn’t expecting that. “So, what did he do to deserve such fame around here?” I asked, this also surprised JJ. “Before he became a firefighter, he used to race. At first it was cars, until he saved up his money to buy his own boat. He’s also an amazing surfer! I can’t believe he had a kid. As of now, I’m looking down at the legendary offspring of Jamie Wilson, and she’s all mine.” This made me burst out laughing. “You’re adorable JJ, you know that?” I admired his smiling face. “Of course I do. I get that a lot.” This just made me roll my eyes, before planting my lips on his in a passionate kiss. I wonder if the baby could feel the butterflies fluttering around my stomach.

“Can I tell the pogues? They’ll be stoked.” He asked with his puppy dog eyes. “I suppose.” I smile, when he littered my face in sloppy kisses before running off into the Chateau. “Guys! You’re not going to believe this!” His voice could be heard throughout the whole shack. I giggled, knowing that the pogues are never going to let me hear the end of this.

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx netflix #obx fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

thurilostiel · 4 years ago

Note

Do you mind talking about your Blind Oracle? She looks very interesting and beautiful!! I really love her design!!! 🥺🙏

Ok so first of all @cringeyvanillamilk @one-leaf-grimoire @shinyshammie cuz you all seemed interested in the OC of mine. Sooo.... *looks over at like 30 pages of written text for BO’s backstory and pet guides* I’ll start with most basic things, in a short list so that you can choose whenever to read all of this or just the summary. Also Thank you for the name suggestions, they’re really fun and I had Lilith in there as well, but for like a slightly different meaning of the name. Name used by her: ‘Oracle’[after getting her grimoire], Thana Nickname given by Nozel, as she said she wasn’t given a name upon birth: Gulisa, and later Libi Full name: Lilith Razili Graddfa'r Ddraig Title: Blind Oracle Status: Of well respected Diamond’s Kingdom noble familly DOB: 20th of April Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: [???] she might be ace, but that’s due to a trauma, still questioning Height: 164cm / ~5′4 feet Weight: 54kg / ~119 lb Eye colour: Deep forest Green -green that goes into grey’ish colour spectrum the farther from the center Hair lenght and colour: Long -while down they get past her shoulder blades, longest part goes till her waist- Dark brown with highlights [of slight reddish tones] Skin colour: Delicate carmely tan [typical Central EU skin tone] Special marks/scars: has lots of little scars on her arms and upper back, her eyes have a visible markings on the irises [will include pic later] Magic affinity/magic’s name[as the one written in the grimoire]: Light / Fallen Luster Magic type: Supportive summonings Favourites: food- fresh fruits, ice minties, a big meaty meal, mint ice cream drinks- fruit juice[apple and orange juices], water with frozen lemon/grapes and mint dos- hum melodies, take long walks with her companion[s], experiment with her eyes, making things for her pets and/or others dear to her don’ts- arguing, being descriminated, being in big crowds, having others play heroes for her [i.e. pretend there are robbers nearby and shove her inside an alley to ‘protect her’] Magic Knight Squad: She’s blind so she’s not that confident to get herself into this bussines Race: Half dragon (don’t @ me, you gave me this idea guys, you know where this came from) Personality: kind and shy pesimist, who always looks at the worst possible scenario to be prepared for anything she can think of. Known pets of hers : Emrys - an aftereffect of her father’s experiment, was with her from her 3rd birthday till May5th after her 18th birthday. Unidentified under-race of, what everyone assumed was, a wolf and fox mix, with low nobility mana levels, allowing him to use few ‘spells’ of flower magic. His favourite flower was a Pond Lily, and he loved to snack on freshly cought fishes. Died on May 5th. [need to finish his visuals, tho he’s inspired by a pet in a browser game Eldarya write down ‘Eldarya Rowtsya’ into google and this is really close to what Emrys look[ed] like] Mer - foundling Crystal Eagle of Oracle. He dropped out of a nest on top of a tree under which the girl was resting. He was a little hatchling then, not more than 2 weeks old, the smell of chocolate cookie brought him to such a brave act. Mer was too small to fly back up ot the nest, also Oracle hadn’t noticed that he’s an eagle untill about a month after he joined her on the adventure, and moved on right after giving him the rest of her cookie, making the smol birdie confused as he was never that far away form his nest and decided to stick to her. Mostly because she still got more cookies to feed him. He’s a little grumpy, but he helps her getting around on her travels. He loves chocolate cookies, corn, and ice minties. He’s getting mad really easily, while mad will refuse to eat and fly, instead will be stompin’ angrily on the ground so Oracle will hear him being mad. Meanings of names: Lilith - night monster, monster mother; also believed to be the name of first wife of Adam, a succub that brought fear to little children and pregnant ladies Razili - of Hebrew’s origins meaning ‘Lord’s secret’ Graddfa'r Ddraig - that’s just her father attempt to act human. ‘Dragon Scale’ in Welsh. Due to her mother’s pasing she wasn’t allowed to wear the noble familly name. Gulisa - Little[as in Weak] Heart [Georgian’s origins] Libi - My heart [Hebrew’s origins] Thana - Arabic name meaning ‘Death’ So the backstory goes a little like this: Lilith was taken out of her mother’s dead body about 2h after her death and put into the coffin on her mother’s chest as she was a silent one and not one of servants believed she’d still be alive. Her father was the one to react to her cries and open up the coffin to see his daughter trying to feed herself but getting nothing above few droplets of blood from now uncovered breasts. This caused her to be of a weak heart and health in general, would scratch easily, get exhausted from simple tasks... The father[a dragon and an idiot when it comes to human interactions] somewhat took care of her, not knowing what to do with babies he just stuck to giving her bottles with milk whenever she cried and if that didn’t work get a servant to change her daiper. Her real name was never used inside the castle, her father was using her [draconic version of] middle name or ‘shortenings’- he meant sweetheart but was saying weakheart, meant sweetie when saying hatchilng, you get the point- as everyone took her as a sign and incarnation of missfortune and death, thus called her Thana instead. Their explanation was that no child would be still alive while it’s own twin[brother] was born already half eaten by pests and parasites, and mother having her heart rotten due to a sickness. Last time she saw her father was around her 3rd birthday, month after that he was never seen by her, but they did met a few more times after Lilith was made blind. For years she was left to herself, only cared for in ways of giving her some food and preparing baths and clothes to wear. She wasn’t allowed to study things other than law and the ways of beautiful speach, yet she loved music. She missed her father dearly, but Emrys took up his place greatly, cuddling up to her whenever she was scared, hurt or cold. Her magic started showing around her 5th birthday and since then the elders started getting a bit suspicious. All was going normal, everyday lessons of law and how to speak in front of politicians, break for a meal, then the rest spent with Emrys on a walk around the gardens or in a library stealthy listening to the music lessons on the upper floors. Upon the day of her 15th birthday the elders took her to old ruins, where they marked her eyes with a ‘new emblem’ that was supposed to start a rebelius movement to throw the king from his throne, but after seeing Lilith crashing down with tears of blood and a new moon forming upon the sky they flew away in fear, leaving her there, unnecessarily taking away her sight from her. As the moon started forming, crimson fog hugged the dying girl, a single string of shimmering mana started leading the fog into the noble family castle. Before reaching the gates the unidentified experiment rushed into it and the fog moved back, leaving the castle alone for this day. Emrys cuddled up to her and covered her with his own mana, focusing on her bloodshot eyes. The fog began cleansing itself, becoming shimmery, as if stardust created it. It later formed her grimoire, the book that would once be called Last Hope, as it’s light was powerful in means of healing and defending, but never there to harm, yet it’s magic was tricky and therefore never the same, no more was it to pleasantly sit back and observe the battle. There was a small peasant village near those ruins, they saw the great light and weird creatures, small circular beings surrounded by silvery feathers and hoops, and some creatures looked like those of stories of old times, the biggest shimmering creature resembled Pan, the great horror of forests. All the creatures dissapeared within a minute and peasants rushed to the ruins. Seeing the young girl in shambled yet definetly expensive clothing and tears of blood streaming down her face they called to her “Oracle! Oh great Blind Oracle! Send upon us a blessing of rain” and so her grimoire started glowing and send upon them the first spell “Moribound wish” which brought the clouds and flooded the noble castles of Diamond Kingdom for whole month. The people heard about an Oracle in old ruins and began coming to her, offering food and crops for a blessing or a prophecy. Her spell was limited, she oculdn’t use it however she wanted, and it called for rest quite often, so people became impatient, rude, envy of such power and ‘luxurious life’ of Oracle. Oracle was inside the ruins for more than 2 years, yet less than 4, she could never tell the time by herself, she always relayed on the good hearted people to tell her what time of the year it was. Few peasants told the nobles about mysterious Oracle and the blessings she was able to perform- healing some of the elders, bringing rain and storms, and they decided to take her for their own happines. They took her from the ruins on May 5th, after a small battle that she decided to put against them, they killed Emrys as he tried to help her, and put Lilith inside the cage, forced a mask upon her face so they wouldn’t have to see the markings which some of the nobles recognised as the sign of rebelion. After half a year they got bored of her ‘miracles’ and let her go into the wild. She was somehow able to get into Clover Kingdom, her mask easily telling others that something was wrong with her. But the little bird on her arm was an easy distraction, especialy with how many children would pile up just to be able to pet him or give him some food, so she was able to steal some food from the stands and sometimes money to survive living under the sky. One day she unfortunately tried to rob a Magic Knight Captain, of course not knowing who he was or what a Magic Knight was before that. Nozel Silva was his name, she made a note to remeber that name and upon hearing her explain why she tried to steal from him he actualy took great interest in her story. After a small series of questions which she answered truthfuly, greateful he wasn’t going to put her to jail, He made a decision to let her stay for a week in Silver Eagle HQ where she was able to create few little artifacts helpful in dungeons and unknown areas as well as develop a spell that allowed her to regain sight for a brief moment of 4 minutes. During the week he called her Gulisa, as she told she wasn’t given a name upon birth, and if she was it was long forgotten. Gulisa later turned to Libi which confused the girl, upon asking why he changed his mind he said that it may suit her better, but he’d still prefer to know her true name. Thanks to Nozel’s help she was able to gain money and buy herself a small house which the members of SE often visit after missions in which they found new artifacts. Often times while practising her magic she’d find a dungeon and explore it with Mer. Few times while in Raquey she was stopped by some male who always asked her for a tea, and would tell her stories about folk-tale creatures, guardians of forests, oceans, skies and mountains, the devils and angels, the dragons and their homes of treasures. He presented himself by name ‘Lonan’ yet seems unsure each time he brings the name up, as if hesitating. He’d always pay for the tea and dessert and leave a package with crystals and some metal parts she’d been looking for. She still travels, but mostly around the borders of Clover and Heart Kingdoms. Searching for new artefacts that could maybe, just maybe, help her regain her sight. “The fact I’ve gotten used to being blind doesn’t mean I don’t want to see someone that I have but meet” “You have your spells don’t you?” “But they don’t allow me to see how I used to. Back then I saw people smiling, now when i use my spell you’re always frowning...” And that would be a brief summary of my OC. *Looks over at the pile of papers* Have I forgotten about something? EDIT: Forgot to add: She can’t fully see by using her spells, they allow her to see the basic outlines and few colours, they depend on her mood and levels of mana she got left, so she’s going blind 99% of time. Her mask was put onto her forcefuly and she was unable to take it down before going to Clover Kingdom. The nobles put her into the half-face mask and stiched it to her face, and she started wearing the ‘butterfly’ one after meeting with Nozel, it was first artifact she made in SE’s HQ. She knew the meaning of name Thana and that’s why she didn’t use it when she was free of elders’ will. Also I might need your opinion on this @thespiralgrimoire

#black clover #oc #Blind oracle #mentions of Nozel Silva #Diamond Kingdom #answered #DPS AU #dragons

12 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

Text

Existence - Part 2 (Final)

Summary: After his death, Sungjin had no idea why he was bound to the manor house but meeting Pearl gave him a reason to exist.

Pairing: Park Sungjin x OC, featuring reader & Day6

World: Spiritual Connection

Genre: ghost au / slow burn / romance / angst

Warnings: death

A/N: Welcome to Existence, a spinoff from Spiritual Connection. When I wrote the Brian/Day6 series, Sungjin’s moment with Y/N was actually unplanned from the original outline but it’s one of my favourite parts in the story. A lot of you also agreed and wanted to explore more of what got him to that point. So did I, and so here we are!

Since Pearl was established as a character in the series, I’ve chosen to write her instead of making her a reader insert. This story is also covering from the late 1800s to present time, so there was a lot to fit in, hence why it’s broken into two parts.

Word count: 4754

Index: 1 | 2 | Spiritual Connection

It was the romance he had never experienced. Hesitations now gone, Sungjin fell deeply in love with Pearl. He soon forgot about why he was trapped in this house, and instead began to explore all of it. Over the colder months, they would sit by the fire, snuggled up as she drank hot cocoa and told him about her day. When spring came, they took to the garden outdoors, watching the flowers bloom and getting lost kissing up against the old oak tree. In summer, the beach invited them down to play, splashing in the waters and laughing under the sun. The leaves turned and began to fall, crunching under their feet as he bundled her scarf closer to her neck.

Although this was no longer the world he had lived in, Sungjin felt as if he had a second chance.

“Are you laying with her now?” Jae wondered with a lazy grin and Sungjin thumped his friend across the arm as he laughed. “What, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Can you do such a wicked thing with the living? Won’t that make her tainted before marriage?” Wonpil suggested, aghast.

“Are you not happy with my union?” Sungjin asked of his friends, who all looked between one another. “If you could have another chance to live, would you not take it?”

Brian nodded. “Of course we would, we have desires too. But we can’t live again, Sungjin. You’re living through her. There’s a difference.”

“I doubt I’ll fall in love again,” Jae added on, glancing over at his guitar. “And if I do, I hope she has no pulse. That way, there will be no messy strings when it all falls apart.”

“Do you expect this to end then?” Sungjin murmured, his hopes crashing. He had believed they were all happy to see him smiling again. Instead, they were worried he was kidding himself.

“I don’t,” Dowoon offered feebly, smiling at him and then at his friends. “But will Pearl remain here forever? Do you plan to have her as your own until she dies? What about the life she’s lost out on?”

“He has a point,” Wonpil agreed, urging Sungjin to consider it. “She can’t marry you, carry you a child, or live off your income. I know the world is changing from what we once experienced. Women are now more independent, but-”

“I think it’s up to Pearl,” Brian cut in firmly, giving everyone a stern look. He then smiled at Sungjin. “It’s her life to decide how she lives it.”

However, it wasn’t Pearl that had the final say at all.

“But papa, I don’t want to marry someone!”

“It’s not up for discussion. I gave you plenty of time to find someone of your liking. Your sister was married at eighteen! You’re now close to twenty. You’ll be an old maid before you find love if I let you do as you please!”

“But I…” Pearl trailed off when Sungjin shook his head, grumbling incoherently under her breath. “I don’t wish to marry out of love!”

“Then you will not marry at all, is that right?” the elder expressed and Pearl burst into tears.

“Why can’t I live how I wish to?!”

“You have for far too long. We humoured you and all your little quirks, Pearl,” her mother spoke up, coming over to comfort her youngest. Pearl shoved off her embrace and dashed out to her bedroom where she refused to come out for dinner.

Sungjin stepped inside when the sky had turned to the stars for the night. Looking up at him miserably, Pearl let fresh tears spill from her eyes. “Will you allow them to do this to me?”

“What can I do to stop them? They have no idea of my existence.”

“I do though!” she wailed, falling into his arms as soon as he sat on the bed. She gripped onto his shirt. “My heart is more than aware you exist.”

“We were foolish to allow this to happen,” Sungjin spoke into her hair and Pearl jerked back, betrayal filling her features. He shook his head, his own emotions spilling over. “I don’t wish to cause you pain, but I should have been more responsible. I should have realised this-”

“You promised me, Sungjin. You won’t leave me now.”

“Pearl-”

“Don’t. I won’t marry another. You’re my destiny, that’s all there is to it.”

“Maybe in another lifetime, but right now I believe you have to be realistic. You need to follow societal rules.”

“Why should I? What good will any of that do? My marriage means nothing. It simply hands me off to another man, my father washing his hands of his impractical, away with the fairies of a daughter! It does nothing to set up my life in any way further than I live it now.”

“Maybe we can talk about this when you’re calmer. Right now, you need rest.”

“My mind won’t change, Sungjin,” she announced, accepting his offer for sleep all the same.

The turmoil of the situation ate away at him. Sungjin had lost awareness of his place, only caring to be the man at Pearl’s side. She loved him as much as he did her, and whilst caught up in their whirlwind affair, he hadn’t seen the warning signs looming ahead as he once would have. Although Wonpil had been concerned, Sungjin hadn’t done anything to leave Pearl impure. Sharing a bed at night with her wouldn’t rob her of her innocence when it came to marriage. The 1950s was recovering from the world war and many of the men who returned had some sins etched into their skin anyway. Expecting their future wives to be clean when their hands were dirty made no sense at all.

Still, it became a concern of his. Retreating to the chair he once slept in at night, Pearl was offended, feeling abandoned by him. It was a hard start to the year and by the time the flowers bloomed outside again, Sungjin and Pearl were struggling to maintain the love that bound them to one another.

Especially when Peter arrived.

“He’s back from the war and his family wished for us to help heal him from his troubles,” Pearl’s mother explained, pairing her up with the soldier most days. Sungjin would watch on from the shadows, noticing the way he made her laugh and was attentive to all her whims. It took a certain type to compliment Pearl and Peter was doing a fine job of it.

He was jealous though. Pearl had been his woman now for three years. Longer, if he counted the moments of flirtation, of juvenile love. But he had no ability to assert anything in front of Peter. Pearl used his envy as a weapon, hoping that Sungjin would turn protective of what was his and mend the crack that ran between them both.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” she asked one evening, changing into her nightgown. Sungjin had turned his back to give her privacy, much as he did each night. Instead of undressing fully, she remained in her undergarments, approaching Sungjin’s side and turning him to face her.

“Good grief, if I wasn’t dead already this would have certainly sealed my fate!” he exclaimed, yanking his eyes to the ceiling with embarrassment.

Pearl giggled. “Well, there’s no denying your physical attraction to me.”

“Clothes please, Pearl. I won’t talk with you until you are decent.”

“My shy lover,” she cooed, reaching for her silk robe and wrapping it around herself. “Is this better?”

“Couldn’t you get changed properly?” he moaned and she grinned at him wickedly. “I swear, you are not worth the hassle!”

“Is that so?” she tempted, pulling on the front of her robe. “I think your eyes disagree with your words. In fact, if I took it all off, you would have no troubles taking me to our bed and laying with me for the first time as man and woman.”

“That won’t happen.”

“And why not? I can take it all off, just you watch me!”

“Pearl, you need to marry Peter,” he admitted unexpectedly, her actions ceasing immediately. Daggers formed in her eyes as she looked at him, and Sungjin groaned with the anguish he had inflicted. Not that his heart was fairing any better from the decision either.

Yet he knew he would shoulder it all if it meant she would live the life she needed to.

“Not this again. Peter is lovely, yes, but he is not you. I won’t accept anyone but you.”

“I don’t exist, Pearl!” Sungjin cried, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m long gone from this earth. My body is one with the ground, much like all of ours are. Jae, Brian, Wonpil, Dowoon – we’re all just whispers in the night. Nothing good can come from us being any more than that.”

“Nothing good… are you saying our love means nothing to you?!”

“You need to marry Peter.”

“That is not answering my question!”

Sungjin turned away from her, tears falling down his face. And for the first time since his death, he forced himself to show her what he truly was by walking through the wall and not out the door as he normally would.

He was nothing more than a mere ghost of this house, anyway.

His existence grew cold.

Each day away from Pearl made him feel less in touch with who he had become. At first, she was distraught, running around the manor looking for signs of her childhood friends. The next three months were hellish, and had Peter not persevered through it, Pearl might have never agreed to marry him in the end.

But she did.

Sungjin didn’t attend the wedding. He was numb to it all, unable to stop hiding in the shadows now that he had begun. He pleaded with the Gods above to accept him into the light. He made deals in the dark with those below to bring him in as an eternal worker. Still, he remained earthbound.

As did the others.

“I miss her, but she looks like she’s glowing now that she’s pregnant,” Wonpil mentioned and Brian glanced in Sungjin’s direction before nodding.

“I believe she’s happy.”

“Happy enough,” Jae concluded, strumming on his guitar mindlessly. “We made the right decision for her, right?”

“Of course,” Dowoon agreed. “When Pearl dies, she can have the love she truly desires then.”

“No, it’s long over,” Sungjin muttered before getting up, slamming the door behind him and making the woman who was cross-stitching in the front room they all sat in dart her eyes around desperately.

Pearl bore a daughter into the world. For a while, she was busy with her role as a mother, especially since her child was unlike she was when younger. She had encouraged imagination within the small tot, but the child took after her logical father more often than not. Pearl fell into a pit of despair; trying to please those she called her own. To provide what she could to be a good mother and wife. Eventually, her daughter, now a teenager, had gotten her wish to leave for boarding school and didn’t return until she was preparing for marriage herself.

The year after the nuptials, two things happened – one, Peter fell ill and passed away. Only a few months later, new life was born into the world.

One that filled the void within Pearl’s chest immediately.

“Did you know, Y/N, this house is magical!”

“Really Grandma?! Really?! Where is the magic?” you enquired, looking around yourself in wonder.

The older woman chuckled at your keen interest that was so unlike your mother’s. “If you go and find a place to hide whilst I count to ten, I’ll show you where to find the magic!”

“Okay!” you exclaimed, leaping off the rocking chair in the front room with haste, Pearl laughing as she watched you speed off and began to count loudly.

It was magic that would find you first, however. “Hello!”

Sungjin turned, blinking slowly from the corner of the room he sat within. Placing down his book, he looked at you carefully. “Can you see me?”

“Of course I can, silly! My Grandmother and I are playing hide and seek! Do you think you can help me find the best hiding spot?!”

Sungjin hesitated, overwhelmed that you had found him with so much ease. It had been decades since he had spoken to the living. You began to bounce up and down, impatient with waiting for his answer. “Oh, please!”

“This way,” he offered, pointing to the panelled wall where a partition popped open. You squealed in delight before crawling inside, hiding behind the wall as he locked it behind you. And then he sat with bated breath for Pearl to come into her bedroom to look for you.

When she married Peter, and kept the house after her parents moved out, she had spent her marital years in the master suite. Sungjin was relieved to have his space back to himself again. When Peter passed away, however, Pearl had been adamant about moving back into the room she loved the most. It was harder for Sungjin to remain in the shadows, though she had yet to find him since she last saw him.

Entering the bedroom, Pearl’s eyes swept around the space, landing on his chair for a moment or two. She smiled for some reason, moving across the floor towards the wall and clicked out the panel.

You screamed with happiness. “You found me, Grandma!”

“I almost didn’t! What gave you the idea to hide in here?”

“That man helped me!” you exclaimed, pointing in Sungjin’s direction. The smile faded from Pearl’s lips and she paled when she stared at his chair.

Seeing nothing but the blanket she had left there all these years.

“You, you see a man?”

“Mhmmm!”

“Is he handsome?” she asked, her smile returning. Glancing at the chair, Pearl was now grinning. “I’m certain he still is.”

“Ew, Grandma, boys have cooties! Yuck!”

With a boom of laughter, Pearl nodded, taking her granddaughter by the hand and back out to the living room. Over the stay, you found all five men in the house. And just as it once was, you played hide and seek from dawn to dusk. It was as if life had come full circle.

“Do you think Pearl told her to look for us?” Wonpil asked, smiling fondly at the small child across the room. You were colouring animatedly with your grandmother, giggling every few moments at the conversation you held with the older woman.

Sungjin smiled. “No, she discovered me on her own.”

“They say children are in touch with the spiritual realm more than adults are,” Jae mentioned, and the four others stared at him with interest. He grinned sheepishly. “What, I saw it in one of those gossip magazines Pearl likes to read when life gets far too quiet.”

“It’s because she’s Pearl’s bloodline,” Brian murmured and Dowoon chuckled.

“Nuh-uh, her mother wanted nothing to do with us.”

“She wasn’t a thing like Pearl though. Y/N is the spitting image, don’t you think? At least, in personality.”

All turned to look at Sungjin and he smiled fondly at the child, nodding once. He then sighed at Wonpil’s hopeful expression. “Don’t.”

“I can’t help but imagine it!” his friend exclaimed and Brian looked between them both in confusion.

“What am I missing here?”

Jae grinned. “Y/N is the child Pearl and Sungjin would have had, am I right?”

Just then, the little girl spun around in her chair, waving happily at them all. She then leapt up and came over to hug Sungjin, looking up at him in wonder. He choked up then, patting her hair, before pushing her gently towards Brian.

It took all of his energy not to approach Pearl then.

With every visit you made to the manor house, you lifted the spirits of both Pearl and the men who lived with her. Your grandmother adored you, spoiling you in affection and time. Whilst your mother disapproved, she also didn’t mind leaving you in the capable hands of the elder every summer.

Which seemed to suit you just fine.

“Today, Brian and I decided to hide outside for the first time! You should have seen Wonpil’s face when he found us out there. We’ve never done that before!”

“I bet he was rather worried,” your grandmother enthused and you bobbed your head up and down. “Poor Wonpil, I hope you gave him a hug when he found you.”

“Of course, I did!” Moving around in your seat beside the old woman knitting you a jumper to take home with on your return to the city, you fiddled with the string of yarn. “Grandma, do you think I’m crazy?”

“Now why would you say that?”

You sighed dramatically. “Last summer, I had so much fun here. But Mum told me off for talking about the five men in this house. She told me I was too old to tell tales like that. Now, I feel like I can’t even enjoy my friends like I used to. Am I going crazy? Did I make them up? I would ask Dad too, but I haven’t seen him since he moved out of home.”

“Do you think they’re imaginary?” she asked and you shook your head immediately. “Then believe in their existence, poppet.”

“Have you seen them before, Grandma?”

Pearl placed down her knitting, eyes searching the room as they often did when you were staying. Sungjin couldn’t help but move closer to the open door he had been listening through. She then leaned towards you. “Maybe, I’m not so sure these days.”

“I wish you had, Grandma. Wonpil is so sweet! I love when he smiles and giggles with me. Dowoon is so tall! I feel like I can fly whenever he picks me up. Jae is really funny. Sometimes he says things that I don’t quite understand, but I like when he makes me laugh. Brian reads me poetry often. He’s very smart, you know. And he has the best hiding places in this entire house!”

“And Sungjin?” your grandmother prompted when you started smiling too much to talk. Her eyes weren’t on the child before her but looking around the room again, as if she knew he was right there, hearing this all.

“Will you keep a secret?” you murmured and the woman turned back to you, nodding in agreement. “Sometimes I wish he was my Dad. He always protects me. He’s helped me so much every time I’m here. He scolds me when I get out of order like a Dad would. Do you think he would be mad if I thought of him like that?”

Sungjin backed into the door as his emotions rose, swinging it on the hinges so quickly that it banged against the cabinet behind it. Pearl’s eyes moved to the space, standing up and craning her neck to see if she would be able to see the culprit. After a moment or two, she sighed, and Sungjin closed his eyes from the other side of the wall as he listened on. “You know, I think he would have been the best kind of father. I’m grateful you have him, Y/N.”

You didn’t visit so much anymore. Time passed, Pearl grew older and frail right before Sungjin’s eyes. The woman was still upbeat in her old age, dynamic as ever.

It was when she grew ill that Sungjin began to panic. She had always been actively doing something around the home. It almost felt as if the house couldn’t function unless she held it up.

He had never imagined what the world would be like without her in it.

He hovered more often than he had over previous years. When she lost her balance, Sungjin was right there to make sure she didn’t fall, her gaze searching through the empty space for him. Quite often, Pearl would speak out to them all, though that had started when you had introduced them back into her world.

“If you weren’t going to leave, why bother hiding!” she called out as she slowly made her way to the end of the staircase. Without thinking, Sungjin stepped in front of Pearl, ready to push her away if he had to. There was no way in this state that she could make it up those stairs. Pointing directly at him, she waggled her finger repeatedly. “We could have spent these remaining years together, you coward! Now, I’m an old lady. I’ve lost my charms.”

“Hardly,” he muttered when she swung around. Pearl stopped, a tremble coursing through her as she gripped the cane under one hand. Slowly, she turned, her eyes widening.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she breathed, staring back at him with wide eyes. Sungjin lost his footing at the sudden remark and the way Pearl held eye contact with him. Slumping onto the step, he gasped when her eyes travelled to his predicament. She then giggled. “Still falling at my feet, huh?”

It was amazing that Pearl could see them all again. There was a lot of bustle over the next couple of weeks, catching up on over sixty years of being in separate worlds. Only Sungjin avoided this time, sitting in his chair in the corner, still stunned by this occurrence.

After his initial brooding, he had tried to show himself to Pearl again. Despite feeling guilty for it, Peter was alive when he first attempted to. But Pearl was none-the-wiser. Multiple attempts from all of them concluded that the woman no longer held the gift of sight.

He had assumed she would never see him again in this lifetime.

Now that she did, it didn’t ease his heart any.

“Are you just going to sit in that chair for the rest of my time left?” she wondered aloud later into the evening, the others turning in for the night. Pearl watched him intently and then cocked her head to the side. “Must I actually die for you to make a move?”

“Don’t joke about that, you still have life left in you,” he murmured, blinking rapidly.

Pearl chuckled and a hoarse cough followed. Sungjin moved to her side, offering her a glass of water in which she accepted gratefully. “How much longer should I live for, Sungjin? I’m old and grey now. I’ve left all my beauty behind me.”

“You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

“You foolish, foolish man,” she chided, cupping his face within her wrinkled palm. “You know, you broke me into a thousand pieces.”

“I know. I was cruel.”

“Indeed. Though it would have been just as hard for you, I’m sure. Are you alright now?” she wondered, suddenly stricken as she examined his features. She then smiled. “God, I could stare at your face all day and night long. It thrills me a little to finally be older than you, I must admit. You were always so big compared to me back then.”

“Might I remind you, I’m well over a hundred and forty years old, Pearl.”

“Why, you don’t look a day over twenty-five,” she mused and he laughed, nuzzling her palm gently.

“I’ll be fine so long as you are,” he told her and Pearl smiled fondly.

“No, you must be fine longer than that,” she instructed and Sungjin frowned. “I once looked into you all. I searched all that I could and even tried to summon you forward with the help of a medium I invited into the house. That must have been just over thirty years ago. She told me that you hadn’t moved on like I had believed you all to. I was relieved.”

“We can’t leave this place, you know that.”

Pearl arched an eyebrow at him in amusement. “Actually, you can.”

“What?”

“It’s not that you were bound here all this time. You’re all here because you choose to be.”

“Nonsense,” Sungjin breathed. “You don’t know how often I wished to be taken from this place, Pearl.”

“A wish that was only half-hearted perhaps. You were in love with this house. It was the only thing you owned before you died. Being its keeper all this time, ensuring it remains standing, it’s something you all have done without realising it. Though, I’d like to believe that since I came along, you stayed on to watch over me.”

Sungjin came to the slow realisation that she might be right. He glanced at the woman, and she tutted him before he even spoke a word. “No, you won’t leave with me.”

“Will you stay here too?” She shook her head sadly. “Well, why not?”

“For me, I stayed in this house to see you all at least once more. I’ve had that pleasure now.”

“That’s it?”

Pearl nodded. “My whole life, I was never allowed to do as I pleased. I was too childish, too different from others. I had my moment with you where I thought I was free from all of that. And whilst I came to adore Peter very much, it stemmed from the heartache of losing the only person I loved entirely. My life was chosen by everyone around me. When I leave this world, I’m going to exist for myself.”

“Then I don’t want to be here anymore either.”

“Do you think you have the right to be so hasty? Always trying to make the decisions, huh? Just like you chose to leave me, I’m doing the same. For now, at least.”

Sungjin’s brows furrowed together. “You’ll leave me?”

“Of course, you have something greater to do than follow me to the next world.”

“Which is?”

“Y/N,” she answered, taking his hand and squeezing it. Her teasing was over, the old woman now pleading with her eyes. “Take care of her for me. I’m leaving this place to her. Since she’s aware you all live here, she’ll know what the best step is for everyone. She might feel burdened at first, but I know you’ll support her through the transition. After all, she’s rather fond of how you care for her.”

“Brian could do that. He’s just as in love with her as I am.”

“Brian’s different. He’s a friend to her. You’re a protector in her eyes,” Pearl mentioned, tears blurring her gaze. She was still smiling. “Protect our child, won’t you?”

He swallowed his emotions back, blinking repeatedly again at the concept that he was a father figure to you. “Are you so sure Y/N will appreciate all this?”

“It’s Y/N, Sungjin. You know her just as well as I do. This place is magical to her. Besides, you’ve existed now for so long; it won’t be that hard to wait out another eighty or so years, right?”

“Will you be waiting for me?”

“Haven’t you for me all these years?” Pearl retorted, smiling generously. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Sungjin leaned in to kiss her then, his tears mingling in with her own. Somewhere during the embrace, he sensed the change. He no longer felt himself upon the bed, instead, being pushed back across the room to his chair, passionately kissing Pearl with all his might. Her old body morphed slowly into the one he had been all too used to holding within his hands, vitality returning and he pulled away once seated and saw what was before him.

“This time, keep your promise,” Pearl, now as her younger self, instructed, leaning in to kiss his cheek, the words I love you whispered against his ear in parting.

Sungjin glanced around the bedroom, unsure of what he was meant to do next. He was tempted to follow after the woman who just departed, though the form in the bed before him also needed him to stay, to somehow alert you of what was next to be done.

For now, Sungjin would stay. The manor house he had looked after still needed him even after all these years, and his friends would be more than ready to assist you in what decision you made next with it. Plus, he owed Pearl after all. He would look after you for as long as you needed him, whether that was for a small interim or the rest of your life. Sungjin would wait until he could be reunited with Pearl again.

Their love had no boundaries or time limit.

It simply existed.

_________________

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

83 notes · View notes