#this thing is monstrously long wow im sorry

[starlillies]

sinking like sand in your sea

some people believe in love at first sight. some people say it takes a lifetime. for maya hart it takes five years. // or the stages of falling in love with lucas friar

lucaya oneshot. title from send me the moon by sara bareilles

i.                infatuation

He was just a pawn. Or at least, he was supposed to be. He was just supposed to be her way of teaching Riley about boys. And yet here they were, a year later, with him choosing Maya over Riley—well, not choosing Maya so much as her way of life. He must be sick and tired of being so damn perfect all the time. She couldn’t believe that he had become more than the boy on the subway, more than Riley’s crush.

She also couldn’t believe that she was actually having fun with him. He had convinced her to be the one to paint his face, since she was the only artist in the group and he ‘wouldn’t settle for less than perfection’ on his face. As if his face wasn’t already perfect. He went on to return the favor, painting her face—with heavy guidance of course. She had never looked so closely at his face for such an extended period of time, and as a result she noticed things she never had before, like the small scar on his cheek just under his eye. She was silent while painting his face, making meticulous movements, but while he painted her face he made conversation and cracked jokes. Lucas Friar was actually funny—not that she would admit that to anyone.

But then he had to go and ruin it.

“Maya, if there’s no good kids out here noticing us, then, what’s the point?”

Already frustrated, Maya snapped. She grabbed Lucas by his collar and yanked him closer to her.

“You questioning my leadership, Hop-along?”

She had pulled him much closer than she had intended, their noses nearly touching.

“Okay, these names you’re calling me are killing my street cred.”

She nearly scoffed. As if he had street cred. .

“Aw,” she faux-pouted, blinking up at him. “And what would you like me to call you?”

“I’d like you to call me ‘Mad Dog’.”

Maya felt her stomach flutter—were they … flirting? No, no way Lucas Huckleberry Friar had a flirtatious bone in his body. She ignored the feeling, cocking her head to the side and shaking it slightly.

“You don’t seem like a mad dog to me.”

“Well what do I seem like to you?” His face completely transformed, lips turning up into a smile, eyebrows lifting, even his voice took on a different tone.

There was no denying it this time—her and Lucas were flirting. Even if it was totally unintentional on her part, which it was, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. She wasn’t complaining though, not at all. She almost didn’t want it to end. That, of course, was impossible. She fluttered her eyelashes, deciding to lay it on thick for the finale.

“You know that lamb that Mary had?”

“I don’t like the way that this is going.”

She smirked as she released his shirt, noticing the smile was still on his face. Somewhere deep down inside something was nudging her, trying to tell her something. She ignored it. She was just playing their game.

And she had won.

ii.              understanding

There wasn’t a single eighth grader at John Quincy Adams Middle School that had a last name beginning with G. This was the conclusion Maya had come to, because in every class Friar and Hart were seated with each other and paired together for projects—the muffin project had only been the beginning. And, just like with the muffin project, Maya found herself back at Lucas’ apartment.

“Don’t you think our English mid-term should be an essay on a book or a poem instead of an essay on each other?”

Lucas shrugged and dropped a plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of her—homemade she was sure. It was the dreaded mid-term season. Last week Mr. Norton gave them the whole sludge thing, in art they had to do abstract self-portraits based on their identity, and Mr. Matthews had told them their mid-term next week would be about changing their own histories. She supposed JQA just gave unconventional mid-terms as a rule.

“I think Harper wants to get to know us better.”

Maya pulled out the question sheet and began to skim it. “For that we could’ve written essays about ourselves.”

“Well maybe she wanted us to get to know each other better too.”

She glanced up from the paper to shoot him a weird look. “We already know each other Huckleberry.”

Lucas fidgeted in his seat. “Yeah but, not that well.”

“Name one thing you don’t know about me.”

“Your favorite color.”

“Yellow. And yours is blue.”

His eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“You wear a blue shirt every day,” she said dismissively, scribbling something on her paper. He shook his head.

“Let’s just stick to the questions she gave us.”

Maya nodded. “You want to be a veterinarian. Why?”

“I guess I just love animals. I grew up around them, so …” he shrugged.

“Lame,” she mumbled as she wrote it down. He looked at her contemplatively and sighed.

“We had a family dog, his name was Rudy. He was basically my best friend. When I was ten he started acting weird so we took him to the vet. By the time they figured out what was wrong with him it was too late.”

“Oh my—Lucas I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “It’s ok, at least he wasn’t suffering anymore. That’s why I want to be a vet, so that the animals don’t have to suffer.”

Maya felt something in her stomach swirl. She tried to drown the feeling with a large helping of water.

“What do you want to be?”

She shrugged. “A good person?”

“You are a good person, you’re an amazing person Maya.”

She scrunched up her face but said nothing.

“Don’t you want to be an artist?”

“I’m not good enough to be a professional artist.”

“Maya,” he began, in a total what-the-fuck kind of tone. “Yes you are. You’re an amazing artist.”

Maya rolled her eyes. “I think you need to expand your vocabulary.”

“Maybe you just need to stop being so amazing.”

At that Maya’s eyes snapped up to meet his. She just stared at him, completely at a loss for words. Did he really just say that?  His cheeks flushed slightly, as if he couldn’t believe he had said it either, and he cleared his throat.

“Who are you closer to, your mom or your dad?”

“Oh, definitely my dad.”

Lucas’ face paled. “Crap I—I’m sorry Maya I forgot—”

“Calm down Cowboy. It’s not your fault my dad is a piece of shit.”

Her tone was playful, but her face betrayed her pain. Lucas placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I get it, I’m sorry.”

“You get it?”

He hesitated and she shifted towards him subconsciously. He stared down at his hands.

“Yeah. My dad isn’t exactly ‘Father of the Year’ either. He’s a really angry person, that’s where I get it from, I guess. He just … he’s done a lot of bad things. My mom finally divorced him, that’s one of the reasons we moved to New York. She wanted to be away from him and she has family here.”

Maya hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on his. “Thanks for telling me.”

He looked up and met her eyes. “I think you’re the only person I’ve told.”

The swirly feeling was back, but this time she didn’t ignore it or drown it. She couldn’t even look away. She bit her lip.

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?”

“I think so.” He sighed. “Mostly because it makes me angry, you know? And I just—I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Do you? Think you’ll ever forgive him, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I could.”

iii.             crossing the line

I’m going to hurt Riley Matthews.

“You like me?”

Strike that. I’m going to kill Riley Matthews.

“No.” She had never said anything faster.

“Maya, why didn’t you want me to ride in the rodeo?”

Crap. She struggled to think of a valid excuse. The few seconds of silence were long and deafening.

“Because, I didn’t want you to win and get all conceited.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

Would he ever shut up? She suppressed the urge to smack him.

“I don’t think that’s it,” she said instead, mocking him with a poorly-done country accent.

“I don’t talk like that, I just don’t! Why do you see me like that?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. How do you think I feel Bucky?

“Of course I don’t see you like that! Can we just—can we just look at this fire, please?”

“Yes.”

Maya dropped onto a stump—as far away from Lucas as possible—and watched the fire. Finally it was quiet. Even though the quiet left her alone with her thoughts, they were easier to deal with than him.

But then she felt his eyes on her. She glanced up to check and sure enough he was staring directly at her.

“Stop.”

He made a face that said something between ‘sorry’ and ‘chill’. But he didn’t stop. She could still feel him, watching. She sent him a look and he looked away. She kept her eyes on him and sure enough his gaze soon turned back to her.

“Can we just stop, I just want everything to stop! It’s bad enough that I’ve been keeping this secret from Riley all this time!”

“What secret?”

She licked her lips and sighed. “You guys are so much alike. I thought you were just like brother and sister too.”

“Why?”

“You’re at your best when you’re just talking to each other. Looking out for each other. That’s what I believed but I kept it a secret.”

She paused, her mind racing. He was silent next to her, but she no longer wanted silence. She turned to him. He was finally watching the fire, a pensive look on his face.

“And now the secret’s out, so I don’t have to carry it around with me anymore. I just, don’t want to have anymore secrets from her.”

“So, you don’t make fun of me because you like me?” He stood and made his way closer to her.

She sighed. “I’m just gonna watch this fire.”

“Maya, why do you make fun of me?”

Think of something to say think of something to say thinkofsomethingtosay—

“Because you’re easy to make fun of!” She stood and approached him, trying to taunt him and finally get him to change the subject.

“Ok then stop.”

“Because you’re a Huckleberry, because you’re a Ranger Rick—”

“Would you stop—”

“Look, if I had feelings for you don’t you think I’d just come right out and say it? Well I don’t so what I do say is ha-hurr—”

She gasped. She hadn’t realized how close she had gotten to him—that is, until he grabbed her face in his hands. And she gasped. And then she froze. She didn’t move—she couldn’t. His hands cupped her cheeks and tangled in her hair. His eyes were serious and dark as he gazed into hers. He closed his eyes. She couldn’t close hers. He inched closer, slowly.

He’s going to kiss me. Holy crap, he’s going to kiss me. Maya’s heart raced as he neared, and then—

He pulled away.

“Why did you do that?” She asked, her voice coming out quiet and raspy, almost like she had been kissed.

“I don’t know, I just, wanted you to stop!” He was immediately on the defensive. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Please don’t tell my sister.”

She shook her head. “You couldn’t think of another way to stop me?”

“Not at the time, no!” He paused. She knew he was right—there weren’t many ways to stop her from doing anything. His method, though, had been very effective. She could barely remember her name, let alone what she had been doing before.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked away, but couldn’t help look back at him. He was magnetic. “You don’t have to be sorry Huckleberry. Of course I like you, you’re a good guy.”

There it was, the bomb was dropped.

“If you got hurt, I don’t know what I would have done.” She hated how her voice cracked as she sat back down. He hesitated before joining her on the log. He watched her, waiting for her to say something. She finally turned to him.

“I don’t want to have any more secrets from her.”

They sat in silence for a long time. They knew something had changed between them.

They had crossed a line, and there was no going back.

iv.             disturbances

“Riley still loves Lucas!”

“You became me.”

“You lose yourself and become like her so you get to know him like she knows him. What a great way to see if he’s good enough for your best friend.”

That said it all, didn’t it? Maya should have known it was doomed before it even began.

After all, hope is for suckers.

v.              understanding (again)

Maya paused at the window, hand poised to knock. She peered in to see Lucas hunched over his desk. Something in her stomach churned—she hadn’t been alone with Lucas since him and Riley had started dating. The fact that they had broken up didn’t make things any less awkward—if anything, it made things more awkward.

She knocked.

Lucas jumped, banging his head on his desk lamp. Maya winced. He rubbed his head as he approached the window.

“Sorry about your head,” she said, climbing into his room.

He waved her off. “I’m fine.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Lucas stared down at her and she looked anywhere but at him. She waited for him to speak. After all, he was the one who invited her over to work on their summer assignment.

“So … Spanish?” She relented, raising her eyebrows.

“Right, Spanish.” Only then did he seem to remember why she had come over. He motioned to his desk and pulled over an extra chair for her.

She approached hesitantly, wondering if there was a way for her to discreetly scoot the chair farther away from him. She pulled out the book and all her other supplies, organizing them meticulously before finally sitting.

“I didn’t know you were taking AP Spanish this year,” she said, glancing over at him. “I didn’t even know you spoke Spanish.”

He chuckled. “I’m from Texas, Spanish is pretty common over there.”

It clicked in Maya’s mind and she hid her face in embarrassment.

“Why isn’t Zay taking it then?”

“He’s taking French, his family is Cajun.”

She nodded and they fell back into an uncomfortable silence. The elephant in the room was taking up the whole room.

Lucas sighed and turned to her. “Look, Maya, I don’t know what happened between us—”

Maya raised her eyebrows. He grinned sheepishly.

“Ok, well, regardless of what has happened,” he paused and considered her. “I miss you.”

Her face slowly shifted to one of shock. If she had expected anything from today, that wasn’t it. She watched him swallow thickly.

“Despite what people may think, we were pretty good friends before. I miss us, and I really hate how awkward things have been. How awkward things are.”

“Me too,” she said in a small voice.

“Do you think we could just try to forget all the weird stuff and go back to the way things were?”

Maya chewed her lip and watched him carefully. “We can try Cowboy.”

Lucas’ subsequent smile threatened to break his face in half. It was contagious too, and Maya couldn’t help but smile down at her book. Her stomach flipped but she ignored it. We can’t do that again. She was just happy they were friends again.

“So,” she began, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Have you read the book Señora Feinstein–Chang assigned?”

“No,” he said with a laugh.

“Great. Me neither.”

They worked for two hours straight, and Maya was pleasantly surprised by the fact that she was actually having fun. Not only was Spanish a subject that she was good at, but her and Lucas were able to fall back into their old routine fairly easily and were teasing and joking back and forth. Soon they decided to take a break. Lucas leaned back in his chair and Maya could feel him watching her as she stretched.

“Are you gonna stop acting dumb this year?”

She froze mid-stretch. “Excuse me?”

“Maya, I know you’re a lot smarter than you act—I just witnessed it. I know you’re capable of doing well in school. I don’t know why you act like you don’t know anything.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “When you do well once people expect you to continue to do well. This way I don’t disappoint anyone.”

He scoffed. “That’s the line you’ve been feeding people since seventh grade. Maybe it’s true, but it’s definitely not the only reason.”

She set her jaw and looked away.

“You don’t have to tell me, but whatever the reason is shouldn’t hold you back from doing your best. You’re capable of more.”

Maya’s resolve broke and she sighed. “It’s not who I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being smart, using big words, it’s not who I am,” she said quietly, spinning her ring around her finger. “Everyone says so.”

“I don’t give a shit what everyone else says.”

Her head jerked up in surprise. She wasn’t sure she had ever heard Lucas curse. He looked at her with a serious yet soft expression.

“No one else gets to decide who you are. I heard about the whole identity crisis thing from the guys. I think it’s total bullshit.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t turn into Riley, you just changed. Everyone changes when they grow up, but you’re still you, ok?”

She nodded, her stomach fluttering wildly.

“And you are smart. Even if you don’t act like it, you and I both know it’s true.”

Before she even knew what she was doing Maya was hugging him. He rubbed her back slightly.

“Thank you.”

vi.             fighting it (and failing)

Maya would fiercely deny it if anyone asked, but she loved Texas. Lucas had dragged the gang back for his brother’s wedding and Maya was just—wow she loved it there. There were so many stars, and his family was so big and friendly, and there was just a vibe that she really … loved.

The wedding was outdoors, sunny with a slight breeze—it was October and it was just starting to cool down. Zay was raiding the buffet with Izzy while Riley forced Farkle to dance with her. Lucas was God-knows-where schmoozing with his many relatives, and Maya had settled down at a table and was having an interesting conversation with his Grammy.

“He really wore it every day?”

Grammy nodded. “Every day for a year.”

Maya didn’t even bother to hide her laugh. She had so much new material.

“Oh, and when he was eleven—”

“No Grammy, not that story.”

Maya and Grammy looked up to see Lucas. Maya tried to ignore how good he looked in his tux, but he had untied his bowtie and undone a button or two of his shirt and shit.

“Lukey!” Grammy’s face lit up at the presence of her grandson. He grinned and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Done makin’ the rounds Huckleberry?” Maya teased. Her country accent had gotten much better—exposure, she supposed.

Grammy grabbed his hand and patted it lovingly. “Shouldn’t you be off partying with all your little friends?”

Lucas made a face at Maya and turned to smile down at Grammy. “I actually came to steal Maya for a dance, if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, me and Grammy were having a fascinating conversation, so—”

“Oh that’s quite alright dearie, you go,” Grammy urged. She then tugged Lucas down to her and whispered, loud enough for Maya to hear, “I like her Lukey.”

Maya fought a smile and avoided looking at Lucas—because she could feel him looking at her. He turned back to Grammy and whispered a reply that sent Maya’s stomach into a flurry and a blush to her cheeks.

“Me too.”

Grammy smiled and began to shoo him. “Now go dance.”

Lucas laughed and grabbed Maya’s hand. She let him drag her to the dance floor—complaining the whole way, of course.

“I don’t dance, Huckleberry.”

“I’ve seen you dance, Maya.”

“I’m in heels.”

“You’re always in heels.”

They had barely made it to the dance floor before the song changed to a slow one. Of course. Lucas held out his hand and she hesitated, chewing her lip. She gave in, taking his hand and draping her other hand around his neck while his free hand settled on her waist.

It had seemed like Lucas had the intention of talking when they arrived on the dance floor, but instead they settled into a comfortable silence, swaying to the music. Maya didn’t know when it happened, but they had shifted positions—both of his hands encircled her waist and Maya’s free hand had made its way to his shoulder, her head resting against his chest. It struck her that she didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. In fact, she felt calmer than she had in a long time.

“The last time we danced together was eighth grade,” he hummed into her hair.

“I remember.” She laughed slightly, the action sending vibrations across his chest. “I’m not sure if that was really considered dancing though.”

The song faded out and Lucas pulled back a bit, prompting Maya to do the same, so he could look at her.

“Maya—”

“Alright y’all, it wouldn’t be a Friar festivity if we didn’t do the Texas Star Square Dance! Everyone find a partner.”

Lucas’ eyes lit up and Maya stepped back. “Oh no no no, I am not—”

He ignored her, taking her by her waist and pushing her towards a group of couples.

“I don’t even know how!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll catch on. They say the steps in the lyrics.”

Before she could argue again the song had begun and she was being twirled and whirled this way and that. Before she knew it she was catching on and actually having a good time. She laughed for the entire duration of the dance, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind—not if his goofy grin was any indication. They traded partners multiple times throughout, but Maya couldn’t help but notice that Lucas seemed happiest when they were partners. She was too.

Finally the dance came to an end. The last move was some sort of turn, where Lucas spun her out and pulled her back in, her back against his chest and their arms crossed in front of her. While the other partners separated and wandered off, the two remained as they were, out of breath.

“Admit it, you had fun.”

Maya turned her head to look up at him, a snappy response ready, when she froze. Neither of them had realized how close they were, but with her heels and her face turned to him they were only inches apart. She could feel the soft puffs of his breath on her cheek and was suddenly hyperaware of how her body was pressed to his. She watched as his gaze fell to her lips and she felt her heart pound. Her eyes flit down to his lips and she tipped her head up without realizing. If he just leaned down the slightest bit more—

“Lucas?”

They separated instantly, letting go of each other’s hands and taking a step back, breathing even heavier than before, their cheeks pink. They stared at each other for a beat longer before looking up to see one of Lucas’ relatives at the microphone—and everyone in a twenty-foot radius staring at them.

“Ready to give your Best Man speech buddy?” The relative asked with a smirk. Lucas smiled sheepishly and made his way over.

Maya went back to her seat next to Grammy and tried to control her racing heart while he spoke. That kind of stuff wasn’t supposed to happen anymore—they were friends. Lucas wasn’t unaffected either, and stumbled over his words a few times.

When he finished he approached the pair and Maya’s heart picked up all over again, but instead of asking her to dance again he simply pulled up a chair and joined the conversation.

Neither of them missed the way Grammy smiled at them knowingly.

vii.           getting together

Maya took a deep breath and tugged her sleeves down over her hands. She had escaped back to the roof, enjoying the cool, quiet solitude. It was New Year’s Eve—New Year’s Day actually, it was something like one in the morning—and the gang had spent the night celebrating at Riley’s. They had kept the party small, only the six of them, and they had gone to the roof just before midnight to watch the fireworks. Maya had made sure to stand nowhere near Lucas during the countdown. Things had been different between them since Texas (again)—one minute they would be joking around, acting their version of normal, and then suddenly something in the air would change and they would look at each other in a way that made their hearts pound and they would gravitate to each other, closer and—

So Maya made sure not to be next to Lucas when the clock struck midnight.

Eventually the group had gone back inside to escape the cold. They lazed around the apartment, playing games and picking at the food, until soon they began to doze off one by one. Maya found her thoughts drifting towards Lucas and Texas and things she didn’t want to think about, so she had taken it as her opportunity to break away.

She leaned forward, perching her elbows on the half-wall and her chin on her hand, gazing out at the bustling city and trying to keep her head clear of anything Lucas related.

“Maya?”

Oh you have got to be kidding me.

She didn’t move but hummed in acknowledgement. Lucas made his way over, Maya’s heart beating faster with every step he took. She hated that he made her like this. She hated that he still made her like this, after everything.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked, stopping next to her, closer than she appreciated at that moment.

“Just needed some fresh air,” she mumbled.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, but Maya soon realized Lucas had shifted from looking at the city to looking at her. She tried not to squirm under his gaze but found him to be, as always, completely distracting.

“What?” She turned to look at him, crossing her arms.

“Maya …”

Maya knew exactly where he was going—if she hadn’t heard it in his voice she had most certainly seen it in his eyes.

“Lucas, don’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

She scoffed. “Yes I do.”

“Maya—”

“I can’t do this right now.”

She turned and stomped away, climbing the two steps to the door, and he followed.

“Why do you keep doing this? Why won’t you talk about us?”

“There is no us, Lucas!” She shouted, spinning to face him and throwing her arms out. “I’m not going to be your second choice.”

“You were never my second choice!” He screamed back. Her mouth hung open, her words lost. He stepped forward, settling at the bottom of the steps. “I chose you! Last year, I chose you, but you wouldn’t let me. I dated Riley because I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”

Maya found herself walking to him, small slow steps that she didn’t realize she was taking. Lucas’ face softened as she approached.

“I just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

“You chose me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. He smiled.

“I chose you. I’m always going to choose you.”

Color rushed to her cheeks as her stomach exploded in butterflies. She went to step down but her heel got stuck on the stair and she stumbled into Lucas. He caught her by her arms, her hands falling against his chest. He tucked her hair behind her ear and let his thumb graze her cheek before tangling in her hair, their faces only a hairsbreadth apart.

“Maya?”

The voice came muffled from somewhere inside. Before Maya could turn to search for the source Lucas pressed his lips to hers firmly. She gasped into the kiss. His free hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and she melted and trailed her arms up and around his neck. He used his hand in her hair to tilt her head up and she pressed into him, trying to get as close as possible.

They separated at the sound of the roof door closing. Maya blushed and hid her face in the crook of Lucas’ neck. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

“You do want to be with me, right?”

She pulled away and smacked him.

“What do you think?”

viii.          staying together (or not)

School was really just the bane of Maya’s existence. She sat criss-cross on her floor, surrounded by assignments—she didn’t even know where to start. Her mind was too cluttered to deal with school.

Right on cue her phone dinged with a text from Lucas. She dropped her head into her hands and sighed. Lucas was the last thing she wanted to think about, but of course was the only thing on her mind.

“Girls like you just don’t end up with guys like him.”

She pressed her eyes closed, her heart skipping a beat.

A knock startled her. She spun to see Lucas at her window, grinning and holding a bag from the Nighthawk Diner.

Fuck.

She dragged herself to the window, avoiding his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” She had tried to keep her voice neutral but the defensive tone crept in and put them both on edge.

“Just thought I would stop by, see how you are. You haven’t been answering your phone.” He watched her carefully, trying to catch her eye. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, fine.” She nodded and looked at him, but not at him.

“Hey,” he said, approaching her. “Talk to me.”

He reached out for her and she flinched. He recoiled, hurt flashing across his face.

“It’s me?”

“It’s—it’s us.”

“What about us?”

Maya turned away from him and began to pace. “I just don’t know why we’re together.”

“What?” Her heart broke at the pain in his voice. “Because we want to be, that’s why.”

She said nothing, tears threatening to spill over at any second.

“Do you not want to be with me anymore?”

“I do,” she couldn’t help but say. “But what’s the point if it’s just gonna end up hurting us?”

“Maya, what do you mean?”

“Girls like me don’t end up with guys like you!” She snapped.

His face softened and he tried to make his way towards her again.

“Who said that? Since when do you care what other people think?”

“This isn’t about other people, Lucas.”

She stared down at her hands, her heart pounding, a tight feeling in her chest. He crossed his arms.

“So what, do you want to break up?”

No. No no no no nonononononono. No, definitely not, never.  She said nothing.

“If you don’t want to be with me just tell me, but don’t make fucking excuses!” Lucas shouted and Maya winced, shrinking away from him.

Her heart hurt. It actually hurt—her chest constricted and ached and her heart began to race and her breath came out in gasps because she couldn’t breathe. Her back hit the wall and she grasped at her chest, trying desperately to get air. She took shuddering breaths as she slid to the floor, shaking, her vision blurring.

It felt like she was choking. It felt like she was dying.

“Maya?”

His voice sounded distant, like it was coming from a phone or from another room. She tried to lift her head, to find him, but it took all of her energy just to keep breathing. Somewhere in the back of her mind she acknowledged the fact that he was moving—he came and sat next to her, reached out for her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Maya. You’re ok, it’s ok.” His voice was calm and steady. He tried to pull her into him but she pushed him away and began to sob—her head was spinning and her chest was burning and it was all too much.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t—.” She forced out, over and over again.

“Maya, you’re ok, you’re safe.”

He continued to speak, soft yet firm, and continued to reach for her. Eventually she stopped fighting, falling into him with a violent tremor. He held her tightly, her head against his chest.

“Just listen to my breathing. Listen and match your breathing to mine.”

They remained like that for while—minutes, hours, neither of them kept track. With every breath Lucas took Maya’s slowed more and more to match his. When her breathing had settled to a pace that was much slower and healthier she began to react to him, wrapping her arms around him and shifting slightly. Though her breathing had settled and her shaking had mostly subsided, her heart was still beating quickly and she still felt weak and dizzy.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t get left again.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

“I would never leave you,” he said, stroking her hair. He pressed a kiss to her head and whispered into her hair, “You’ll never lose me.”

He paused, watching her chest rise and fall slowly, and a smile spread across his face. “I love you.”

She didn’t say it back, but that was ok. He knew how she felt about love, he knew she needed time. He just needed to say it, he needed her to hear it. She needed to hear it.

She knew they were going to be ok.

ix.             going all the way (let’s not)

She liked kissing him.

Lucas pushed her down until her back hit the bed and he trailed a hand up her hip to her waist. She fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.

She really liked kissing him.

His mouth was warm on hers and he tasted like coffee and she wanted more, but just then he pulled away. Her whine of protest was caught in her throat as his lips claimed her neck, sucking softly on her sensitive skin. She tangled a hand in his hair and tilted her head back subconsciously.

He sat up and pulled his shirt off, staring down at her with hooded eyes. She admired his toned body and drew herself to him, sitting up and settling on her knees, cradling his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his.

They melted into each other, molding their bodies to fit together the same way they had been doing for months.

Maya laughed into the kiss as Lucas struggled with her bra clasp. Boys—totally hopeless. She reached an arm around her back to help him and pulled it out from under her shirt. His large hands settled on her waist, his thumb caressing her skin and skimming the bottom of her breast. Her heartbeat picked up.

They had been dating for over six months but they still hadn’t … gone all the way. They had barely even gone part of the way. Maya’s stomach flipped at the thought of it. Sex was terrifying to her—it was so personal, so intimate, so vulnerable.

His hand grazed her thigh, sliding up slowly. He pushed her down onto the bed again, settling on top of her. Her body heated up and she could feel him and she began to panic. He could tell something was wrong and he stopped, pulling back slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

Maya placed her hands on his chest and pushed him off of her, sitting up and chewing on her swollen lip.

“It’s just, uh, a little too much.”

He furrowed his brow. “What is?”

She hesitated, gazing up at him sheepishly. “I’m not ready for,” she gestured wildly with her hands, “it. For sex.”

“Hey,” he said, tucking some hair behind her ear. “That’s ok, we can go as slow or as fast as you want. All I care about is that you’re comfortable.”

Her heart swelled and she grinned at him. He laughed and shook his head.

“Plus, I’m gonna make sure our first time is a hell of a lot more romantic than this.”

“You got a problem with my room Huckleberry?” She faux-pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“No. It’s beautiful, just like you. And someone as beautiful and kind and amazing as you deserves the most romantic, wonderful, unforgettable first time there ever was. So I’m gonna make sure you get it.”

Maya’s stomach flipped. In that moment she was pretty damn sure she was in love with Lucas Friar. But she couldn’t say so, not until she was sure.

So she kissed him instead.

x.              i will say (i’m in love)

Maya groaned as she woke up, stretching languidly and yawning. She could feel that Lucas wasn’t in the bed. She rubbed her eyes and dragged herself up and out, following the smell of food.

Katy and Shawn had gone out of town for the weekend, and when Lucas found out he insisted he stay at their apartment while they were gone. Maya told him she would be fine, but he said either he stay at her apartment or she stay at his, and with his parents home, they could have a lot more fun at hers.

She was bombarded with heavenly scents as she entered the kitchen. She breathed in the smell of bacon and opened her eyes to see her boyfriend standing at the stove, his back to her, humming.

God he was such a huckleberry.

She made her way to the breakfast bar and pulled herself up onto one of the stools, watching him in silence.

“Morning,” he said, not even turning around. “How did you sleep?”

“Are you wearing an apron?” She teased, ignoring his question.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” He turned to her, plate in hand, and set it in front of her before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Then he was back at his post at the stove, preparing pancakes.

Maya couldn’t help but smile as she watched him, a warm feeling settling over her. They were quiet—there was no need to speak. They did that sometimes, spent time with each other in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. They had been dating for nearly a year and they had never been happier.

And suddenly Maya knew. She was sure. One hundred percent, no doubt, totally positive. She smiled.

“Hey, Lucas?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

[dear-yandere]

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!! 

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich​: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian. 

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe​, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two:  hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!

[sugasgrowl]

Blood and Mercy

Member: Yoongi x Jin x Reader

Genre: gang au

Warnings: violence, gore, major character death, guns, alcohol, swearing

Word Count: 3613

Summary: There is a rat in Bangtan, but you’re going to fight for mercy.

Sequel: Red and Dead

HI WOW IM SO EMOTIONALLY DRAINED AFTER WRITING THIS. This one shot is based off of my great friend, @papa-seokjin‘s, fic called Tenacious. He and I talk about that universe way too often and this stemmed from a random conversation about who we thought would be the rat in the gang of Bangtan. Anyway, I’m fucked up. Enjoy.

“You’re a fucking liar!” you roared.

Your palms stung from the impact of slamming them against the table. The stone of a heart that resided in your chest felt as if it fell to your feet. Your entire body vibrated with the refusal to believe the utter bullshit that had just spewed from Min Yoongi’s mouth.

He was lying. He had to be lying. There was no way in hell that it could be true.

But the glowering scowl that twisted your leader’s face said that it was the truth. He was the last person you had ever imagined would betray the team. Who would betray you.

“I wish I was,” Yoongi grumbled, lithe frame leaned up against the mini bar in the corner of the room. At his side, knobby hands were white-knuckling a bottle of whiskey. Boss clearly wasn’t handling the news too well, either.

Though your face was pinched in anger, your legs began to tremble underneath you. There was a slight sting behind your eyes. Great, now your body was betraying you, too.

“What...what will we do with him?” you asked, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

You knew the answer before it left his lips.

“Rats get exterminated.”

You didn’t need to ask Yoongi to know what he had in mind, but having confirmation of the inevitable made you feel nauseated.

“No,” you croaked.

“Yes,” he hissed, taking a loping step forward so that he was almost nose to nose with you. “You think I’m not fucked up about this, too? He’s my friend. He was my friend long before you met him.”

If you had full control of your vocal cords, you would have told him that that didn’t matter in the slightest and he knew it. Yoongi may have known him longer, but you had loved him. You shared a bed with him. You knew him inside and out.

Traitor or not, you couldn’t let him kill Seokjin.

“Don’t you dare touch him, Yoongi,” you whispered.

The leader tilted his head back and laughed. Laughed long and hard enough to make your skin crawl and your eyes drop to the scuffed floor. As if he had just heard the best joke. Tears welling up in your eyes blurred Yoongi’s cackling face into a twisted smear of a monster.

“Jin has been leaking our plans to the fucking cops. He was helping plan our downfall. He wants us locked away,” Yoongi took another violent pull from the half empty bottle of whiskey. He cocked his head to the side, face twisting at the acidic burn of the alcohol.

“Do you not think,” he wiped his mouth on the back of his veiny hand, “that he deserves to be punished?”

“Well, yes, but -”

“He’s been working for them for over a year,” the older man spoke over you. “He was working for them while he was taking you on priceless vacations and fucking your brains out.”

If Yoongi hadn’t been practically holding you upright, you probably would have collapsed then and there.

“Face it, babe,” he chuckled, “Jin has ruined his credibility in our world. He’s as good as dead anyway with as many other gangs as we work with. They’ll be lining up at our doorstep to get their hands on him to see what he ratted them out for, too.”

Your lip curled into a snarl, and you sent him stumbling back with a hard shove to his chest. How dare he speak of Jin that way?

“I won’t let you lay a fucking hand on him,” you spat.

Yoongi smiled at you poisonously. Before you could blink, he had you pinned against the wall - forearm nearly crushing your windpipe. You let out an involuntary squeak as the back of your head slammed into the wall.

The pressure on your windpipe increased as you struggled against his hold.

“Get the fuck off me!” you rasped, fingers clawing at his flesh. Black irises locked with yours as your legs kicked at Yoongi’s shins. He grimaced in pain, and in the time it took you to realize what was happening, a radiating sting spread through the side of your face and across your tongue. You tasted the faint tang of blood.

“Since you’re so protective, why don’t you ensure he gets a quick death, huh?” he seethed. He had your chin trapped between his thumb and forefinger. You could taste the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks.

“Yoongi,” you almost soundlessly wheezed, “‘m...gonna fuckin’ kill you -”

“Because if I get my hands on that traitor before you do, honey,” his tongue flickered out to wet the wolfish, gleeful hint of a smile ghosting on his lips, “he’s gonna wish he had an angel like you to end it for him.”

“Get the fuck off!”

And just like that, you could breathe again. You coughed and sputtered, knees going to rubber and sending you tumbling into the floor. Through the white stars throbbing behind your eyelids from lack of oxygen, you could just make out Yoongi stalking off in the direction of Jin’s bedroom.

You scrambled to right yourself. No, no, no, no.

In your time as a member of Bangtan, you had seen Yoongi do a lot of horrific things. You’d seen him torture men for days on end, dragging it out as long as possible until they were begging for death. You’d seen him bash a man’s head in with the butt of a gun until it was the equivalent of hamburger meat. You’d witnessed him do a lot of fucked up shit, but he’d always been loving to his men.

And now he was about to kill one of his best friends.

“Yoongi, please!” you called into the dark house, praying that you didn’t trip over anything as you sprinted through the blackness.

You heard the unmistakable crack of Yoongi’s boot kicking open the bedroom door. Your heart flopped against your ribs.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi bellowed. “Wake up and help me take out the trash!”

The younger man stumbled out of his room to see their leader dragging a shirtless and half asleep Seokjin into the hallway by his hair. His pained yelps of protest and confusion echoed throughout the old house.

“We’re doing this...right now?” Hoseok hesitantly asked, barely audible over the sound of Jin spouting off every swear word known to man.

In one swift movement, Yoongi had Jin’s arm pinned behind his back and a switchblade lightly pressed to the column of his throat.

“No time like the present, brother!” he nearly sang.

He forcibly yanked the traitor’s head back until it was almost resting between his shoulder blades. The blade glinted maliciously as it kissed his bronze skin.

“The fuck is this, Yoongi?” Jin hissed as Hoseok’s deft fingers bound his wrists behind his back with rope that he seemingly pulled out of thin air.

“How fuckin’ stupid do you think I am?” Yoongi asked. His voice was low but ice cold. Realization flickered across Jin’s face, fear quickly flooding in its place.

“Yoongi, I can explain -” he was cut off with a swift punch to the mouth.

He staggered in Yoongi’s hold, a moan of pain escaping his lips. In front of him, Hoseok shook out his hand - a tightness playing behind his eyes.

“Sorry, hyung,” he muttered.

Your insides were ice cold. Much, much too cold. You’d watched them commit - and helped take part in - many murders. Even tortures, if it was for the sake of the gang. You knew what was to come, you knew that they would hurt Jin. But seeing it with your own two eyes was different.

“Yoongi, please just fucking listen to me -”

“Would you just shut the fuck up?” he yelled. His black eyes were hot coals burning into you. “Hoseok, help me get him to The Interviewing Room.”

It was as if Jin was just realizing that you were there. His dark eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by Hoseok’s fists once again. Two hits to the face, one hit to the diaphragm. The man folded like a card table with a rattling wheeze, broad shoulders curling in on themselves. In the dim lighting of the hallway you could just make out a smear of bloody drool on his chin.

As he leaned forward to catch his breath, Yoongi and Hoseok each grabbed him and dragged him towards the emptied out work room.

You followed them mindlessly, like you were caught in a dream. This wasn’t real. None of it was real. You were actually all out in the yard playing baseball together. Jungkook was showing off as per usual. Jimin was droning on and on about the effectiveness of a bat as a weapon. There was no way that this, Jin being dragged off to his murder, was reality.

The lights of The Interviewing Room flickered on and cast a sickly, yellowish, washed out glow to everything. There was a singular metal chair ominously sitting in the middle of the room - waiting for the next poor soul who would be tied down and fucked up. Silver instruments of torture were spread out neatly across the dresser top and gleaming monstrously in the corner of your eye.

Jin sat half slumped in the chair, still trying to catch his breath. Excluding his ragged breathing, he was quiet. Yoongi stood in front of him with crossed arms - switchblade firmly grasped in his sure fingers.

“You’ve been a part of Bangtan for so many years,” he crouched down to be at eye level. “Why rat on us now? After all this time?”

“I wish I could say it was because I wanted to save people from falling victim to your short fuse,” Jin locked eyes with him, “but that would be a lie.”

“Why?” Yoongi spat.

“The authorities almost had enough evidence on you to shut it all down. They offered me a deal. Said if I helped them out, I could get my sentence shortened.”

Yoongi nodded wordlessly and calmly slid the leather jacket off his shoulders before tossing it to Hoseok. Only a moment ticked by before he tipped the chair back with a harsh kick. It landed so explosively that it made you jump and your teeth grind together. Jin grunted as he fell backward, unable to stop the fall due to his bound hands and feet. Yoongi crouched over him, eyes scanning the bruised man’s face, before he let out a chuckle.

Your palms started to sweat.

The sudden sound of knuckles crunching into a perfectly straight nose made your stomach turn. Jin gasped and sputtered, sending a spray of blood to stain Yoongi’s white shirt. He coughed violently, choking on the blood dripping from his nose and down the back of his throat. His nose bent at an odd angle, the imperfection looking out of place on his handsome face.

“You were supposed to be one of my most loyal men,” Yoongi tsked. “I let you into my home, I fed you and clothed you. Hell, I made you! You were just an accountant before you joined Bangtan. I made you great, and this is how you repay me?”

He let out a dramatic sigh as he pulled his pistol from the waistband of his jeans. Jin blearily struggled to focus on what was being held before his eyes.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi gritted out as he brought the butt of the gun down onto Jin’s chiseled cheekbone. His eyelids drooped as he fought to stay conscious. The fresh gash from being pistol-whipped sent crimson dribbling down his cheek. “You wanna act like an enemy, we’ll treat you like an enemy,” the blue haired man patted him on the side of the face. “Here, sit him up again.”

Watching him get the shit beat out of him felt like you were the one strapped in that god forsaken chair. You could withstand a lot. But this was too much.

You weren’t sure at what point you tackled Yoongi and ended up splayed out on the tiled floor, breath stolen from your lungs, with him looming over you - a menacing sneer on his face. Although it probably happened right around the moment Jin started whimpering and crying out in pain. Had you taken a moment to plan your attack instead of acting out of rage, you might not look near as foolish as you did then.

“What are you doing?”

“Th-that’s enough, Yoongi,” you panted. “He gets the idea, alright? He fucked up.”

“Hoseok,” a bubble of bloody film burst between his swollen lips. The copious amounts of blood pouring from Jin’s nose made him sound like he had a cold. “Get her out of here. She shouldn’t see this.”

You could barely understand him.

“No!” you snapped when Hoseok took a cautious step in your direction. “Jin, shut the fuck up. Yoongi, please don’t do this,” you knew you sounded desperate, but you really didn’t care. “This is Jin that you’re hurting.”

“This is not the Kim Seokjin that I know. This is a rat.”

You clambered to your feet.

“You may be his leader, but you’re also his friend.”

There was a beat or two of silence before Yoongi’s lips pulled into a subtle smirk. A chilling sign of what was going through his mind. He took a leisurely step towards the array of tools sprawled out across the dresser.

“Not anymore,” he smiled as he wrapped his pale fingers around the handle of a hammer. “Hoseok, do you think we should start with his fingers? Or his -”

He was cut off with a wheeze as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a suffocating embrace from behind. The hammer fell to the tiled floor with a deafening clang, Yoongi’s fingers loosening and busying themselves with clawing at your skin. Strangled swears and insults vibrated against the skin of his throat.

Hoseok watched in horror from the other side of the room, his fingers twitching towards the holster under his arm.

“Touch the gun and I’ll kill both of you.”

Hoseok dropped his hands. You knew he had a strict code for himself. Thou shalt not hurt women or children.

“Yoongi,” you rasped in his ear, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m not going to point my gun at you because I don’t want to kill you. I just need you to listen -”

He cut you off by stumbling backwards and slamming your body into the wall. The brief moment that your concentration was compromised, you caught en elbow to the solar plexus. Your vision tinged with white as all the air was stolen from your lungs. You fought the urge to let your guard down and blindly threw a punch in hopes of making contact. You felt the distinct sensation of your knuckles smashing into something that felt eerily like teeth.

Your vision came back with a few hard blinks of your eyes.

“Fuck!” Yoongi swore with a shaky laugh as he dabbed at the bloody cut on his lip. He grimaced at the sight of bright crimson smeared across his fingertips. He laughed heartily, bloody teeth baring themselves in horrific joy. “You’re a persistent bitch, aren’t you!”

You blinked and he was on you, all five foot nine inches of raw power tackling you to the ground with a maniacal growl. Pain radiated through your elbow and tailbone from the impact, and the cold tiles bit into your skin as he did his best to hold you down. His pale arm stretched across the tiles to reach for the fallen hammer, the handle just out of his reach.

With a burst of strength, you threw him off of you and managed to reverse your positions. His thin frame writhed underneath you in an attempt to escape. Yoongi was faster in combat, but you were heavier, and you used it to your advantage. You grabbed him by his shirtfront and used your knees to pin his arms down by his sides.

“What, you gonna kill me for planning to drain your traitor of an ex boyfriend’s blood like the pig he is?” Yoongi taunted, voice rough from exertion.

A fierce cry permeated the air as your fist made contact with his nose, the cartilage giving way with a ghastly crunch. His black eyes widened in shock at the feeling of hot blood pouring out of his nose and into his mouth. He licked his lips nervously at the sight of the blade of your freshly unsheathed knife. You traced the cold metal across his cheekbone, pridefully taking in the way he tried to follow the motion out of the corner of his eye. He tried to fight the shudder rippling through him at the feeling of you pressing the edge into the shell of his ear, a tiny bead of blood raising to the surface.

“If someone is killing him, it will be me.”

Yoongi opened his mouth in protest, but closed it quickly when you pressed your knife harder against his ear ever so slightly.

“I will kill him. I loved him. I will kill him, but you will not torture him. You will not hurt him anymore. It is still Jin. He doesn’t deserve torture, Yoongi, he’s a traitor but he deserves a more honorable death than that,” you could have sworn you heard Jin gasp, but you couldn’t be sure. “If you want to try to stop me, I’ll kill you. I’ll fight you again and I will fucking win again, because you’re not going to lay a fucking hand on him.”

His bruising eyes locked with yours, and his bleeding lips twisted into a scowl as he silently agreed.

When you forced your aching body to stand, Hoseok scurried from the other side of the room to help Yoongi up as well. You locked eyes with your leader and continued to glare at him, knife glinting with his blood under the fluorescent lights, until they closed the door behind them.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the hiss of you wiping your blade clean on your jeans.

“I didn’t want to do it,” Jin softly said from behind you. “You know I...I love you all.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, stomach twisting for a multitude of reasons.

“I know.”

You forced yourself to face him, regret immediately filling you. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding all over his naked chest. He was almost unrecognizable. Almost. Even under all the swelling and drying blood, there was something so undeniably handsome and so very Jin about his appearance, and it made your throat tighten.

“How do I look?” he almost teasingly asked. Leave it to Jin to joke until his last breath.

“Never looked better.”

“Yeah, well,” he smiled sadly, matted and bloody black hair falling into his eyes, “that won’t last long. I’m guessing I’ll have to have most of my skull intact to have an open casket funeral.”

You grimaced, “Don’t say shit like that.”

His brows furrowed.

“Why not? I’m accepting death. You’re about to put a bullet in my brain because I’m a snake who betrayed Bangtan.”

You placed your hands on the armrests of his chair and stooped down to his level, a slight snarl etched into your face.

“No, I’m about to put a bullet in your brain because I couldn’t watch Yoongi gut you like a fish,” you gritted out, ignoring the burn behind your eyes.

After a moment of tense silence, you sighed.

“It hurt too much to see you in pain, okay?”

“But it didn’t when you left me?”

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t need the image of his dejected face as you ended things with him six months ago floating through your mind right now.

“You know I didn’t want to -”

“Then why did you?” he raised his voice.

You rubbed your hands over your face. Work had always been your priority, and loving Jin put him before all else. Bangtan was on the backburner, and your possible future with Jin was constantly in the forefront of your mind.

“I lost myself when I was with you. Work wasn’t at the top of my list anymore.”

“Was that really a bad thing?” he asked. “We could have run away. You’re a smart and strong woman, you could have worked wherever you wanted. Hell, I made enough money with my side job to keep us living great lives.”

“Jin, please don’t -”

“We could have had everything,” he mumbled under his breath.

Wordlessly, you caressed his bruised jaw with your thumb. His dark eyes lifted to meet yours as he leaned into your touch, and you gave him a watery smile. Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in one final kiss.

His lips were swollen and clumsy, and his tongue tasted metallic and bloody. Even through the gore, he still tasted like Jin. Sweet with the faintest hint of nicotine.

You pulled away and cleared your throat before the tightness in your chest consumed you.

The gun felt too cold and too heavy in your sweaty palm as you pressed it to his forehead. Your whole body was trembling.

“Just do it, baby. It’s okay.”

Your heart lurched at his words, and your fingers shook as you pulled back the hammer.

“I forgive you,” he whispered, brown eyes meeting yours over the barrel of the gun. “For everything.”

“I love you so much, and I always will.”

You pulled the trigger, and he slumped over in his seat.

Everything was red.