#I was instantly inspired and in love (took out my phone to start writing immediately)

[xx-spookyb-xx]

The second I saw her I knew it was over.

Her:

They didn’t give her anything too intricate to do and how she gets involved is contrived af, but she was a baddie the whole time no questions about it.

#kayla watts #jurrasic world dominion #im just 🥰🥰🥰 #whew 🥵🥵🥵 #ate and left no crumbs #alright I’m done #there was some good horror scenes too don’t get me wrong #but that’s only two highlights from a 2hr long movie so… #I was instantly inspired and in love (took out my phone to start writing immediately) #my bad y’all I think she’s been confirmed as bi #I’ll take an action star bisexual #dewanda wise #my post

[canariie]

i just called to say

Rating: K+

Synopsis: “Momo-chan—what’s wrong? Should I come in?”

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked and Momo winced at how pitiful she sounded. The door tentatively opened as Orihime peeked her head in, her warm amber eyes immediately softening when she saw the lieutenant in the tub.

“I’m sorry to be crying like this,” Momo said as she wiped her tears. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of people after the Winter War, but some habits were harder to kick.

Orihime smiled understandingly as she knelt down and held out a small towel. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Momo-chan.”

…

Momo arrives in the World of the Living to start her personal kido training sessions and spends the night at Orihime’s apartment.

Word Count: 5460 words

Setting: during the time skip, before the epilogue of Bleach (probably 3 years after the last chapter)

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week‘s Hitsuhina Week 2022  - Day 4 - Things Left Unsaid

Authour’s Note:  THIS IS SO LATE I KNOW ;-;

I honestly didn’t know that this would grow so much! This is my longest fic on tumblr to date!!!

I struggled a lot with figuring out what to write for the celebration week, I think this was my fourth attempt at something? But the more I reflected on writing Orihime in this, I found myself saying to myself, oh this needs to be fleshed out longer, i have to include this as well. Until it evolved into this long, short novella for you all.

For the most part this is Momo and Orihime, but there are conversations on Ichihime (and this is obviously, or maybe not so obvious, Hitsuhina) so proceed as you will haha.

This was inspired by many many things:

- @rays-of-fire-and-ice‘s fic In Time’s of Peace

- @whipplefilter ‘s fic Donki

Shout out to Harry Style’s Late Night Talking and Steve Wonder’s I Just Called to Say I Love You for being the inspiration around intimate phone calls.

Enjoy!

—

"lnoue-san, I'm so sorry I'm late! My meeting went over, and I had to wait to be approved for a new departure time, which took longer because the Senkaimon wasn’t prepared in time," Momo rambled, panting in between breaths.

It was late into the summer night and Momo had just arrived from Soul Society into the World of the Living. It was the first time on her own without a predetermined mission, and she wanted to make the most of it. Hirako-taicho had given her a week off to train with Haachi of the Vizards so she could develop her kido skills. It was something they both had wanted for a long time, and the fifth division was finally in a place where Momo could take the time off to work on her own personal goals.  

However, her first steps weren’t as smooth as she couldn’t get her location to work on her denreishinki correctly— it would throw her two streets over and its north arrow wasn’t calibrated correctly (though the twelfth division had assured her it was the newest prototype with the latest updates) leaving her clueless in the dark of how to find Orihime Inoue’s apartment. By the time she had picked up her gigai, got lost around the neighborhood, circled around twice, and walked up the steps to the apartment, Momo was flustered and sweaty with her clothes sticking to herself.

"No worries, Hinamori-chan!" Inoue chirped, gently grabbing her bags from her hand and leading her into the kitchen. "I just got back from work and was setting up the extra futon!"

"Thank you, lnoue-san," Momo said with a defeated sigh. Just looking at the girl in her oversized shirt and baggy pants, instantly put her racing mind to ease. Though they hadn’t met before, Hirako-taicho had told her that the human girl was more than happy to host Momo since she herself was continuing her own healing training with the former Kido corps leader.

"Also!” The human girl beamed, “Please call me Orihime!"

Momo smiled. "Then, please call me Momo."

Though the apartment was small, there was a charm of youth that the lieutenant didn’t realize she missed from being in the barracks. Little stationary pens and washi tape (which Momo made a note to ask Orihime where she bought them for later) along with a pile of worn old schoolbooks stacked on the desk. A small bookshelf hosted stuffed animals and novels with an old pink CD player perched on top. Below the hanging fabric print, Momo noticed a small family altar with a picture of a handsome dark haired young man.

Though she could see Orihime all around her, there was also a sense of a new presence: a dark blue coffee mug next to a pale pink teacup; military green flip flops by the entrance next to soft white bunny slippers; a black hoodie with a ‘15’ emblem hanging by the closet door. Someone had squeezed themselves into the space and the apartment had accommodated itself for one more.

It was cozy and intimate, and filled Momo with a longing for peace. Things had been hectic in Soul Society, from her training new recruits to also part timing at the Academy—she was excited to be involved in so much and could feel herself growing. But after a long day of prepping her subordinates before she left and emergency meetings, she felt that she barely had the time to breathe, let alone sit down to herself.

"Would you like me to warm up the bath?"

At the thought of immersing herself in warm water, Momo could feel her shoulders instantly deflate.

"That sounds wonderful," Momo sighed.

“It’s a bit small,” the human girl warned with a sheepish smile, “but feel free to use as much bubble bath mixture as you would like!”  

“I’m sure it’s alright, Orihime-chan! I really appreciate it,” Momo said with a smile, feeling a strong desire to comfort her.

As Orihime went to set up the bath, Momo opened her bags in the living room and finally got a chance to look at her denreishinki. There was a short message from Hirako-taicho asking her to message him when she reached and say hi to Hiyori (if she were in a good mood). Rangiku has also texted her asking her to give her love to Orihime and bring back some face masks from the Human World. Toushiro had texted her early in the morning before she had started that day to call him when she arrived, but in all her hurry she hadn’t paid it too much attention. She had sent him a quick text message when she stepped foot in the World of Living, to which he replied with a short “ok” – he was never the greatest at texting, but she had assumed he was busy.

Once Orihime led her to the bathroom, it didn’t take Momo long to shed off her sticky clothes and eagerly step into the steaming water. She sighed in content as she could feel her muscles loosening. It had been such a long time that she had taken a bath, she could hardly remember. There was something so feminine and relaxing about the concept that allowed herself to unwind. During the work week, she only had time for quick showers and washes— so sitting in a bathtub with bubbles felt like an unprecedented luxury. Momo settled herself in further, the water reaching the ends of her ears.

“Is the water alright?” Momo could hear Orihime say through the closed door.

“Yes, it is!” she affirmed as she blew a froth of bubbles away from her knees. Momo giggled to herself as some landed on her nose.

“I’m glad! You should try the apricot scrub! It’s the best exfoliator after a long day. By the time I come home from working in the bakery, I’m covered in flour and sugar and that’s the only thing that can take it all off.” Orihime laughed and Momo hummed in agreement, wondering absentmindedly if it was a human tradition to have a conversation through the bathroom door.

It was quiet for a moment and all Momo could hear was the sound of cicadas chirping outside. The slosh of water echoed across the bathroom walls. Everything was much quieter this time of night, like the whole world had paused to take a breath. As she leaned against the rim of the tub, Momo could almost feel herself drifting to sleep.

“You know Momo-chan,” Orihime called out. A long pause stretched out. “I saw Toushiro-kun after he spoke to you.”

Her eyes snapped open as the image of her childhood friend flashed before her eyes.

“When was that?” Momo asked tentatively.

“It was right after we left Soul Society—and Rangiku-san and Toushiro-kun came to stay with me during their mission. I didn’t know much at the time—especially when they set up the TV creature. I’m still not sure how they were able to set it up by themselves—and especially how they fed it,” Orihime rambled on, and Momo felt herself piecing the memories together. A plea to the general captain. The bubble of anticipation in her stomach and the bated breath as she waited to talk to the tenth captain.

“I wasn’t sure if I should have been listening in, but the head captain called me into their meeting. It was one of the first times that I felt included in such important matters,” Orihime laughed quietly, and Momo felt herself leaning forward to hear more. “I left the two of them to update Kurosaki-kun and the others, but when I returned home… I could sense there was something off.”

Momo could feel her heart still and her breath hitched. She remembered that conversation well. Feelings of being on a precipice, so scared to look down that she could fail to see the anguish in her friend’s eyes. Looking back, she could remember the agitation in the way his eyebrow furrowed and his grimace as he muttered her name. As a vice-captain she felt ashamed that the situation escalated to the point that the General Captain had to intervene.

“What did he say?” she asked softly, her voice wavering.

If Orihime heard her anxiety, she didn’t notice and continued on. “He was really quiet and didn’t say much—he just went to the roof. But there was something in his eyes that looked…sad.”

Momo shuddered. Her dear friend had grown so strong through the ranks, but due to her naiveté, she had knocked him down and hurt him—something she would never forgive herself for.

A stab of hurt went through Momo and suddenly the water felt too hot, the steam too overpowering and her vision blurred. She sniffled and tried to keep her voice steady. “Was he okay?” she asked.

“Momo-chan—what’s wrong? Should I come in?”

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked and Momo winced at how pitiful she sounded. The door tentatively opened as Orihime peeked her head in, her warm amber eyes immediately softening when she saw the lieutenant in the tub.

“I’m sorry to be crying like this,” Momo said as she wiped her tears. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of people after the Winter War, but some habits were harder to kick.

Orihime smiled understandingly as she knelt down and held out a small towel. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Momo-chan.”

And they were no longer a shinigami and human; just two individuals who had seen harsher things at too young of a time.

“It’s my fault that he was so upset,” Momo confessed. “I was foolish and…disillusioned.”

Flashes of broken eyes. Ice missing the heart by an inch. Cold searing pain as she fell from the sky. A lamenting howl piercing the heavens before she faded into black.

She looked down at the ghost spot of her scar.

“I thought I held him back,” she weeped. “And I still do.” Her shoulders wracked in sobs as she cradled her face in her hands, embarrassed to be wallowing in self-pity but also to be seen like this by someone she just met.

“I’m sorry I brought it up, Momo-chan,” Orihime gently said, and Momo could feel a warm hand touch her shoulder. “Rangiku-san briefly explained to me what happened and ever since then…I had always wondered if Toushiro-kun was feeling that way, then you must have been really hurt as well.”

Momo looked up as Orihime smiled softly, melancholia hiding behind her eyes. Momo knew that look—she had seen it in herself before.

“You know…I also felt a similar way when the Arrancars had first attacked Karakura. Kurosaki-kun got badly hurt because of me. Rukia-chan and Abarai-kun had to come and cheer him up—which was more than I ever could do at the moment…”

Momo watched as Orihime picked absently picked at the fleece of the floor mat.

“I felt like I was…useless. They were able to support him more than I could, then. And though I had started training to become stronger for myself, it didn’t feel enough.” Orihime looked up, her amber eyes firm and resolute. “So, I went to Hueco Mundo—because that’s what I could do to protect them.”

Momo had remembered the moment and panic. She was sent back to the Fourth for further recovery when she had heard the former Ryoka girl had defected and willingly entered enemy territory. Word had spread around Soul Society of traitorous slander. They were only slowly warming up to the intruders when the scandal happened. At the time, Momo had only felt confusion but also had wondered if people had expected her to do the same—especially when she had arrived in the Fake Karakura Town.

Now looking at her, Momo realized that Orihime was just a girl who loved her friends so much that she would do anything—and everything—to protect them.

Orihime smiled proudly. “Now, I feel like I can fight alongside Kurosaki-kun. Because we’re stronger—together.” She gently took Momo’s hands in her own and squeezed it tight. “You’re already taking the first step by training with Haachi-san!” Orihime beamed. “You’re on your way to be stronger.”

Momo blushed, feeling overwhelmed by not only the warmth of the water but Orihime’s gentle smile. Though she had entered the apartment feeling exhausted and was now spent from crying, but inside there was a sense of lightness that came with a deep revelation.

“Thank you, Orihime-chan,” Momo smiled whole heartedly. “And even though I don’t know Kurosaki-kun as much, from the few times I’ve seen him, he always seems happier when he’s with you.”

The human girl’s cheeks reddened, shaking her head side to side in denial that Momo couldn’t help but think was cute. Thinking that it was time to finish up, Momo reached for the soft pink towel, but stopped in realization.

"I'm so sorry Orihime-chan but I forgot my sleeping robes," Momo apologized, feeling bad for imposing.

"No worries at all!” Orihime chirped as she got up. “The amount of times I've forgotten things while traveling—I always end up borrowing from Tatsuki-chan. I actually have an extra shirt from when Rangiku-san and Toushiro-kun was here!" Momo could hear the rustling of robes and opening of drawers. The door suddenly opened big enough for an arm to stick themselves in, "This was Toushiro-kun’s! I think it might fit you more than Rangiku-san's!"

Momo gently got out of the bathtub, making sure not to put too much weight down and slip, as she took the shirt in her hand. She let the dark black fabric run through her fingers, the silver chains clinging as they fell. Toushiro's shirt was a bit…unusual. It wasn't something she would expect him to wear.

She unwrapped the towel from herself and pulled the shirt over. The hem lifted right above her navel and the sleeves landed by her wrists. Momo brought up the collar to her nose and inhaled softly. Even though it was washed, she could still get the hint of a fresh mint scent that she had come to associate with Toushiro. Breathing it in, she relished the feeling of being at home.  

When Momo had stepped out of the bathroom, towel in hand as she dried her hair, an array of pastries on the table greeted her. Orihime was pouring some tea next to two steaming bowls of udon, that reminded Momo of how hungry she was

“This looks amazing, Orihime-chan!” Momo exclaimed as she sat down. “Really?” Orihime’s eyes widened, as if she wasn’t used to the compliment. “I’m glad! This is not usually the food that I cook so I was a little hesitant to try.”

Momo moved closer to smell the food. “It certainly smells delicious,” she affirmed.

“Since I started dating Kurosaki-kun, I’ve had to learn to follow recipes strictly...” Orihime laughed hesitantly. “I usually like to wing it and add extra garnishes, but after one of our first dates at home, he had to go to the hospital from food poisoning,” she admitted sheepishly as she poured a cup of hot tea for Momo. “Ishida-kun and he sat me down and told me that I couldn’t cook like that for others anymore.

“But I still cook for myself my own recipes,” she mused unabashed. “The only one who’s liked it so far has been Rangiku-san.”

“Well, I can take some for Rangiku-san since she loves it so much,” Momo supplied in confidence.

Orihime’s amber eyes lit up. “Yes, of course! I’ll send her some cream cake with pickles!”

Momo laughed weakly, quite unsure of what to make of that but was more than happy to dig into the bow of udon in front of her.

The two talked casually about everything and nothing. Momo asked Orihime how long she had been working at the bakery (three years), what was her favourite bread (the custard bread on Tuesdays because that’s when they make it fresh—otherwise its melon bread). The human girl had also been taking extra shifts so she could earn enough savings to get an apartment on her own. While she was in highschool a distant relative had helped her with rent, but now that she’s graduated, she’s been trying to save up so she could have her own place and hopefully go back to school.

Orihime tucked her bands behind her ears, as she bent down to slurp a noodle. “I’ve been thinking about studying nursing for a while. Ever since the war and seeing everyone hurt—it made me realize that I wanted to do something more.” Momo could agree with the sentiment herself; it was another reason why she had thrown herself so much into the academy and training. She wanted to be someone that didn’t hold others back while helping others out.

“I’ve spoken to Ishida-kun about applying to nursing school and he agrees that it’d be a good translation of my healing powers,” Orihime said. “Kurosaki-kun has also been really supportive by touring schools with me on his weekends off. Sado-kun has offered to drive me to take the exam when he’s in town as well.” Orihime smiled fondly as she talked about her friends and it reminded Momo of when Rukia would come back from the human world and tell stories to them about meeting her friends.

Orihime’s eyes widened in realization. “Haachi-san actually gave me the idea! During one of our training sessions, he had mentioned how it was one of his human part time jobs—though it took a while for people to get used to his size since they would get scared,” she laughed making Momo wonder how big the kido trainer was.

“I think you would be an amazing nurse, Orihime-chan! Rangiku-san said you’ve healed Hitsugaya-kun faster than anyone in the Fourth,” Momo recalled.  

“Speaking of, how long have you two known each other?” Orihime smiled gleefully, as if she were in on a secret.

“It’s nothing like that,” Momo defended, her cheeks going red. “We’re just childhood friends.” She had experienced this kind of inquiry from Rangiku, so she knew what to expect, but it didn’t stop the blush from reaching her face.

“Hm, I was hoping my women’s intuition was right,” Orihime muttered defeatedly. “But I do remember Toushiro-kun was popular during school,” she tapped her chin, looking up in contemplation as she munched on her melon bread. “A lot of girls were excited when he joined the kendo team briefly.”

“Really?” Momo asked, trying to keep her voice steady but feeling a slight tightness in her chest as she set her empty bowl down. She pulled her sleeve down her arm, fingering the fabric. “Well, that’s Hitsugaya-kun for you—he picks up everything so quickly.”

“He’s really an incredible leader,” Orihime affirmed. “Everyone always listened to him diligently during battles.”

“He truly is,” Momo smiled wistfully. “And not only that, but he’s also incredibly kind. He may not look like it, but he’ll go out of his way to make sure people are supported or recognized for their work.” She remembered the days when they had group training sessions, and all the seated and unseated division officers would gaze at him in wonder as he led them. Momo knew that her friend had to fight to gain respect when he obtained the captain seat prematurely. But she always felt a swell of pride inside when she heard people praising him for his leadership. “I think he’ll do amazing things wherever he goes.”

She looked up and caught Orihime smiling at her endearingly, making Momo blush. “But enough about me,” she said. “When did you and Kurosaki-kun get together?”

Orihime smiled softly. “After Rukia-chan & Abarai-kun’s wedding, he asked me to make some time for him. I didn’t really know what to expect and was even more surprised when asked if he could see me more—just the two of us.” Orihime blushed furiously, pushing the tips of her fingers together. “And since then, we’ve been taking it slow…”

Momo remembered the wedding in bits and pieces. It was a joyful occasion since it had been a long time in Soul Society that there was a large celebration. She had cried seeing Renjii and Rukia look at each other as they exchanged their vows and was an emotional mess as she drank the celebratory shots. But the excitement and high emotions had gotten to her so all she could remember was a pounding headache, blurred conversations and a late night walk home on something warm and strong.

Even though they had just met, Momo could feel there was an ease of openness between her and Orihime. She was witness to all the stories that the human teenagers had gone through in helping fight wars that weren’t theirs, so it made Momo immensely happy to see them moving on and creating happiness in their own lives.

“I’m really happy for you Orihime-chan,” Momo said wholeheartedly. “You deserve it.” She stood up, grabbing the empty bowl from Orihime and stacking it with her own dishes to take to the sink.

“I’ll take care of these dishes Momo-chan! You must be tired!”

“No, no, I can help you with those!” Momo protested. “You’re also tired from a long day of work.”

Orihime shook her head softly and smiled as she stood by the sink. “It won’t be hard at all! Kurosaki-kun and I have been calling each other every night, so I can do the dishes while I talk to him.”

“That’s so sweet,” Momo said. “It’s nice that you can make time for each other even with your busy schedules.”

Orihime blushed. “Kurosaki-kun is taking some summer classes to get ahead before the first year but since the college is far, we’ve been trying to talk on the phone often.”

“That must be so hard to be apart from each other since you two just started dating,” Momo sympathized.

“It is a bit difficult but we’re managing. Our phone calls have been really nice…” Orihime said softly, as she played with the fabric of her shirt. “I know Kurosaki-kun gets embarrassed around his family, but when it’s just the two of us on the phone he’s more comfortable. We’ve been able to be more honest with each other. Even if it’s important or trivial…it’s nice to just let some else know how you’re doing.”  

The brown-haired girl smiled. “I’m sure it is.”

Momo helped put the dishes in the sink before going to the main room and getting ready for bed. Though she had been upset earlier, after talking to the human girl, Momo felt lighter inside. She knew there would always be some part of her that would hold the wounds of the Winter War close to her heart. But she was slowly coming to terms that it was okay to keep those pieces as long as they motivated you to move on. Momo smiled remembering the human girl’s resolute eyes and her advice. Orihime could heal people not just through her powers, but her warm words and kind presence.

She stepped closer towards the kitchen to go use the bathroom but stopped when she heard Orihime on the phone.

“Yes, Momo-chan arrived safely! We stayed up talking and she’s going to bed now.” Momo could see Orihime slightly blush and tuck her chin in and play with her hair as the girl listened to the other side. She put the wash cloth down “Have a good night Kurosaki-kun! I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” There was a slight pause and the girl turned slightly more red. “I love you too.” Momo smiled as she watched Orihime hold the phone close to herself, spinning from side to side before throwing the washcloth aside and leaning against the fridge with a squeal.

Momo gently closed the door to the kitchen and moved towards the living room window, careful not to make a sound as to not alert the amber-haired girl she was listening. It was such an intimate moment and it made Momo happy to know a more personal side of the famous substitute soul reaper. Though she hadn’t met him formally, from seeing the two of them interact she could tell that the boy was a special person to Orihime. Rangiku had once told her that people in love look more beautiful and she could truly attest to that.

Her thoughts swayed back to her childhood friend. Though Momo hadn’t seen Toushiro that day, he had messaged her to give him a call when she arrived.

I texted him when I arrived…but I want to also talk to him.

Before she knew it, Momo found herself pressing the call button and listening to the ringing tone. They hadn’t spoken to each other before on the phone, so she felt a little nervous. But she couldn’t contain her excitement also at the prospect of hearing his voice, especially at the thought of them having a conversation alone.

“Hello?”

“Hitsugaya-kun!” Momo yelped. She didn’t expect him to pick up so quickly.

“Why are you surprised? You’re the one that called me.” Even though she couldn’t see him, she could hear the slight eye roll in his tone. His voice sounded gruff, like he just woken up.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t realize you would pick up right away. Were you sleeping?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, and Momo instantly felt guilty. “But I told you to call me when you reached. I know your departure was delayed so you were traveling at night.”

At the thought of him waiting for her call, Momo could feel her heart beat a little faster—though she’d blame it on the summer heat.

She cleared her throat. “It was a late arrival, so I felt bad to keep Orihime-chan up. But she was so sweet, she cooked dinner for me, started a bath for me and stayed up until I was settled in.” She twirled a finger through her damp hair as she looked out at the crescent moon. “It’s really peaceful here.”

“Were you able to eat the food alright?” She could hear a bit of worry in his tone.

Momo laughed. “Orihime-chan explained to me that ever since she started dating Kurosaki-kun she’s had to limit herself to strict following recipes since he had to go to the hospital once.”

There was a low laugh over the phone. “I could imagine that. It seems like Matsumoto is the only that can stomach Inoue-san’s cooking.”

“But yes, it was delicious! I hadn’t eaten someone else’s cooking in a while, so it made me feel really warm inside,” Momo confessed. “I’m really excited to get to know Orihime-chan more.”

“Are you excited to start your training tomorrow?”

Momo nodded her head vigorously. “Yes! Orihime told me she’s trained with Hachi-san before and that it was really helpful! Hirako-taicho already prepped me a bit about what to expect, but I still feel a little nervous because I’ll be focusing on high level kido—and I haven’t done that in a long time.”

She could hear some noise over the phone that sounded like Toushiro was moving to sit up. “You shouldn’t be nervous. You’re more than ready.”

And she understood that—in principle. While at the academy, she loved reading the incantations and discussing with her professors of possible combinations. But it had been so long since the Quincy War and there hadn’t been a moment for her to push herself yet. Will she remember the incantations correctly? Should she have brought her books with her—

“Stop that.”

Momo paused. “Stop what?”

He scoffed. “I can hear all your overthinking over the phone.”

She spluttered quick protests to which he replied, “You’ll be fine, Hinamori. There is no one more capable than you.”

Momo said nothing as she traced the frame of the window with her finger, taking in his words. “You really think so?” she asked softly.

“I know so,” he responded immediately.

She instantly felt a wave of relief wash over her. Whatever little anxiety that was in the pit of her stomach dissipated like a breath of fresh air from the cool night. She always felt so relieved when Toushiro comforted her.

“Oh! Also Hitsugaya-kun—”

“Hitsugaya-taicho.”

“Hitsugaya-taicho,” Momo amended with a roll of her eyes. “I actually forgot in all my haste to pack sleeping clothes.” She laughed sheepishly. “Orihime-chan is in the midst of packing her apartment to move somewhere else but she actually had some of your clothes from when you and Rangiku-san stayed over…”

“And? She gave you Matsumoto’s clothes?” She could hear the slight confusion in his tone.

“Um, no…she gave me your old shirt,” Momo admitted softly.

There was a pause on the line, and she wondered if he had fallen asleep.

“You’re wearing my shirt?” Maybe it was the sleep, but Momo thought she could hear a slight waver in his voice.

“Yeah…” Momo blushed and look down at it. “It’s a bit short for me—when I lift my arms my whole midrift is exposed,” she laughed. “And it ends above my elbows. Also, I wouldn’t expect you to own something so...”, she fingered the hanging chain at the base of her collarbone, “…edgy.”

“Matsumoto had ordered those clothes—I didn’t pick them out.”

Momo giggled. “That makes sense—it wouldn’t have been the first thing I expected you to wear.”

“If it doesn’t fit you should wear something else,” he retorted.

“No, no! I love wearing it!” she defended quickly. “It reminds me of you…” It even smells like you, she thought but that felt too honest even for this late night of a call.

“…if you wanted something of mine, I could have given you something that fits.” Even though she could hear the sleep in his voice, she couldn’t stop the furious blush that appeared on her face.

Momo could feel herself becoming nervous and the need to diffuse whatever sparks were happening in between. Maybe it was the feeling of stepping out from a hot bath on a cool summer night. Or the solace of the white moon hanging above. But it seemed that both of them were revealing things usually left unsaid.

“It reminds me of how much you’ve grown. I kind of miss my short Shiro-chan,” Momo said playfully.

“Well, I’m no longer that short,” he said dryly. “Almost taller than you, now. You’ll have to get used to it.”

“You’re right,” she said softly.

It was quiet except for the low murmur of breathing on either side. Though no words were said, it felt comfortable. She could hear him turn around on his futon.

Momo thought back to Orihime calling Ichigo and how her smile was so bright. And though she couldn’t see Ichigo on the other side, she could imagine that he was just as happy to talk to them. She wondered how Toushiro felt on the other side of the phone.

“Is that all? I have to be up in a couple hours for morning training.”

“I’m so sorry Hitsugaya-kun!” She looked at the clock and instantly felt remorsefully for not considering the time-difference.

“Don’t worry about it, Hinamori. I wanted you to call.”

“I just called to say…”—how much I want to see you, how much I care —“…I’m excited to come back and tell you everything.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be excited to leave yet, Hinamori. Enjoy your training.”

Momo felt like her heart was hanging on a precipice at the thought of her next question. “Then…can I call you again while I’m here?”

A pause so long she felt like her heartbeat could be heard over the phone. Momo worried if she had stepped too far. This summer night had made her much bolder than before. She half expected him to scoff at her and remind her to focus on her own work. But there was hope that she wanted to continue these calls and tell him more.

“Of course you can.”

Momo beamed. “Wonderful! I’ll call you soon again! And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call you earlier, so I don’t disturb your sleep.”

She could hear him chuckle on the other side. “Go get some sleep now, Hinamori.”

Even after putting the phone down, Momo couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out. She fell back on the futon, clutching the phone to her fast-beating heart.

There was something new about the phone call. She felt it and she had a feeling that somehow, Toushiro felt it too. A kind of intensity she wasn’t used to but was looking forward to in future conversations.

Momo wondered; how many things were left unsaid between them?

—

Authour’s Note: I really hope you enjoyed this!

I have always always loved the conversation between Rangiku and Orihime during the Advance Team Arc. I think it can get dismissed as fanservice, which I won’t deny, but I really loved the keen perception of Rangiku to sense Orihime’s  insecurities and then give her big sisterly advice! I’m also such a fan of writing Momo with other female characters so I really wanted that sort of moment with her and Orihime (who I also believe is highly emotionally intelligent when it comes to other people’s emotions).

This is my first time writing Orihime so I was really nervous! (and also why it took so long to write this). but after watching clips of her and reading other orihime fan interpretations of her, i really found myself falling for her and her beautiful emotional strength. I also really wanted to showcase her relationship with Ichigo as a young high school sweetheart way and hope that came across :) I think I still need to get a hang of her dialogue but I would love to write more of her in the future!

Also, I am such a sucker for phone conversations! I think they’re such a beautiful concept to focus so much on someone’s voice and hang onto everything the other person says without really knowing how their face looks as they talk. There’s really such an intimacy with it that’s hard to replicate. The phone call between Momo and Toushiro was actually the first part of the fic that was written because it came the easiest to me :)

I started writing this fic in the summer when I was physically and mentally in a different part of the world, so I have fond memories of listening to Late Night Talking during the short nights and writing this after the long summer days. I think this is my favourite fic of the year because it contains a lot of memories of changes to where I am currently and I put a lot of love in Momo and Orihime’s interactions:) I truly hope you enjoyed it :)

#ITS FINALLY DONE #momo hinamori #toushiro hitsugaya #orihime inoue #ichigo kurosaki #bleach fanfiction #canariie: my fics #ichihime #hitsuhina #does it count if the characters are only there in name hahahaha #yes yes yes it does #honestly my true motivation to release this now is because i have to work on a written statement and my mind could not focus on that #until i actually just finished this long piece

[kittykittyanon]

🍓🥑🥤🧃❄️🦴🧩

HIII KITTY!!! I HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A GREAT DAY OR NIGHT OR WHATEVER TIME IT IS FOR YOU!!! I THINK YOU ARE SUPER RAD 😎😎 AND I LOVE INTERACTING WITH YOU!! (I gotta come with up with a tag for you, i just realized 🤔🤔)

ANYWAY DON'T FORGET TO DRINK WATER AND EAT IF YOU'RE HUNGRY OR USE THE BATHROOM IF YOU NEED!! LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES (you can ignore the personal lore one if it makes you uncomfy :D)

GAH!! HAIII!! I GOT THIS ASK WHILE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TYPING OUT MY COMMENT ON YOUR AO3 POST!!!! what great timing, amor!!

I LOVE INTERACTING WITH YOU TOO!!! gosh,, i was just about to add that into my ask to you!!!! i decided not to cause i already said it in a recent ask, but you're really very thumbs up!!! /pos!!!

and for the ask game;;

🍓 - "how did you get into writing fanfiction?"

ooohhh,,, what a story. i had my start on wattpad!! i first found out about it when i was 8 and on my school bus, i stood on my seat to peek over a highschool girl's chair to look at her phone 'cause i was curious and a bit of a dumdum. she had wattpad opened and was reading a story and i was instantly hooked and reading alongside her without her knowing ☆⌒(>。<) when she noticed me, she exited out of it and i saw the app name and got it as soon as i got home. ever since i read my first bnha fic, i've been writing. ((but if you mean writing stories in general? i remember writing one with a friend back in first grade, but other instances of me writing before 2018 were very rare!! i've always had that want to do something creative since i've been able to hold a pen, so i guess it makes sense lmao))

🥑 - "you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?"

cry, panic,, then run to @lykaiosthinks or @itsyagurlchip (*ﾉ∀`*)

🥤 - "recommend an author or fanfic you love"

OH ABSOLUTELY??? if i had to say my favorite writer here, it'd be @ziipzeepzop-eez,, and for my other recommended awesome writers whose works are DELICIOUS, they'd be @itsyagurlchip, @lykaios2, @sleepytime-fics, @tmnt-narratives, @oleander-nin, and @amorvincitomnia-14 ((YOU!!))

as for yummy yummy fics: whatever you do, don't get attached by @sleepytime-fics where reader gets yoinked into the rise universe after eating a very silly fruit, and every night the longest day by ashtreelane on ao3 where leo gets cursed by a mystic user during a fight that makes it so he cannot sleep. at all. ((VERY ANGSTY. HEED THE TAGS.))

🧃 - "share some personal lore you never posted about before"

my family's always been adoring of cats. my very first cat was a big fluffy grey cat, the only memory i have of said meow meow is when my dad had to give him away. i think my parents have a picture of me petting him? for the next couple years we'd always feed the cats outside, some of them even coming inside sometimes to chill with us, until my mom came home one day with a big tabby cat that followed her up the stairs and into our apartment where he is now part of our family, fondly named "chunky"!! then a year later, a pregnant cat we'd been feeding for a while gave birth to kittens, of which we took in as ours :3

❄️ - "what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?"

mweeehhh,, i don't necessarily have a dream plot for anything, but if i had to have one? i'd pick something to do with me and donnie because of course i would /lh (though i prefer platonic a TON more than romantic) and i'd want myself to write it 'cause i know myself best. (similar to your answer, amor!!)

🦴 - "is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?"

ehhhh, not really?? i guess sometimes i get inspired by other writers' works, but if i had to pick some sort of media it would be music or games!!

🧩 - "what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?"

no paragraph breaks, and constant author's notes in the middle of the fic itself!! i'm not reading a screen-full of text without spaces— and i wanna read the fic uninterrupted thankyouverymuch (つω`｡)

this post's a long'un (attempted british accent /lh)

#kittykitty asks #kittykitty interactions #the loveliest amor!!

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT WASHINGTON D.C.

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

*inspired by this *

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a week 😌)

-

Despite Harry being less than active on social media, it doesn’t mean that he didn’t creep through Instagram and Twitter after the shows.

He used a fake account to scroll, constantly liking pictures and videos of his wife dancing or funny fan signs to his phone.

Tonight, after the Philly show, YN was already fast asleep in their tour bus bed - she had curled into Harry with her leg between his and her head on his bicep.

Harry was trending on Twitter for his show, however, he scrolled a bit further and noticed that a hashtag called #JusticeforYN was trending.

When he clicked on the link, it took him down a rabbit hole of screenshots and videos from the concert.

It doesn’t take long to see what had happened, it was a girl recording herself on Snapchat from the pit during the concert.

The ‘fan’ held up her phone enough that you could see her but also YN, Jeff, Harry Lambert, and Tommy in the background behind the pit.

Adore You started blasting through his AirPod and the girl recorded his wife dancing with their friends - he gets distracted for a moment, watching her have fun and sing along.

He loved her so fucking much.

But then, it’s the next clip, and the captioned text on the video said ‘Harry’s Whore.’

The small smile on his face disappears instantly when he sees where this is going.

In the next few segments, the girl is screaming things at YN who can’t even hear them because of the music but it’s still completely disrespectful.

“Hi, Harry’s Whore!”

“Get the fuck outta here, nobody wants you here!”

“Fuck you!”

It makes Harry rage, even from the comfort of his bunk with his perfect love, and then he digs deeper to find his real fans defending YN.

YN was pretty loved by the fans. She was always kind, posted pictures of Harry (because he rarely did), and made really kickass merch.

He finds the Twitter account of the girl who harassed his wife, her name was Gina, and he read through her tweets.

She was going to three more of the concerts - following them from Philly to Detroit.

One of her tweets said…

‘If you guys are mad about what I said during the last concert, just wait what I have to say to her next time.’

And he also finds out that she had won a meet and greet for the DC show through the record label and Harry already knew what he was gonna do.

-

YN wakes up before Harry, sitting in the small living area of the bus - watching a cooking show on the television and still slightly dozing in and out of sleep.

“Hi bun,” She mumbles, opening her arms and legs to let Harry flop between them. Chest to chest and he was a bit to heavy for this but he liked laying like this.

“Mornin’, my love,” Harry rasps, peppering kisses all over her jaw and the smooth column of her neck until she giggles.

“Shouldn’t you be saying good morning to your whore on tour?” YN replies, her voice is light and unbothered - obviously found out the online drama.

Harry tenses up, looks up at her seriously, and tells her, “M’gonna take care of it.”

“Don’t, it’s fine, bubs,” YN assures him, she’s smiling softly and Harry just…he is so obsessed with the woman below him that he has to kiss her for a long moment.

“No, it’s not. I’m not going t’let someone treat m’wife like that. She won tha’ meet and greet. I’m gonna have a talk w’her when she comes backstage,” Harry tells her, lips brushing on every word and he can help but grind his hips forward against her.

“Always so horny in the morning,” Yn teases but still lets her thighs fall open a little bit more so that the only barrier is their underwear.

“Can y’blame me? Look wha’ I wake up to,” He rumbles, voice getting illogically deeper and raspier when he speaks.

It’s not long before he tugs his briefs down just enough and her panties to the side to get inside her with his lips glued to hers.

He’s whispering things that would make him blush with embarrassment if anyone heard him.

“Can’t believe y’mine after all this time.”

“Y’my perfect match, on m’knees for you whenever you ask.”

“Arena full of people and all I see is you, baby.”

“Feel like heaven.”

“Only y’make me feel like this.”

“Come on, stubborn girl. Show me y’love me.”

-

Harry looks insanely stunning in his purple outfit but honestly - YN always steals the show (without even trying). ***

They’re in a common area, waiting for the meet and greet with the fans - it’s comical how Gina’s face drops when she arrives to see Harry facing away from everyone with YN giggle as he crowds her up against a wall.

They can hear Harry murmur, “Y’alway showin’ me up. Only gonna be able to look at y’during the show, bug.”

“Harry,” Jeff calls to his client, making him turn around and his eyes instantly search the small groups of fans until his eyes land on a girl dressed in a bright pink fishnet dress and boa.

“You,” Harry points at her, his face isn’t giving away any emotion, “Can I have a chat w’you?”

“S-sure,” She stutters, eyes wide and excited - oblivious that Harry actually knows what she had been posted on social media.

The singer takes her off to the side, YN’s eyes keep darting to them as she chats with the friendly fans who are complimenting her dress and her merch designs.

Frank is standing near Harry, prepared to escort the girl out after the conversation.

“Can we get a selfie?” Gina asks, pulling out her cellphone.

“No,” Harry replies seriously, “You also are going to get escorted out of this arena and banned from any of my future concerts.”

“Wh-what?” The girl stumbles, eyes watering as she looks at him in confusion and dismay.

“I need to make this a safe space for everyone who comes to my concerts. That especially includes m’wife. And I don’t feel comfortable havin’ someone scream at m’wife and posting nasty things on social media attending my concert.”

Realization flashes across Gina’s face, “I’m so so sorry. I can apologize. I really didn’t mean-“

“No. I don’t think my whore of a wife would want to hear it,” Harry chuckles with a nasty edge, “Y’can fuck off now. Go find a new artist to harass ‘cause if I see y’face at one of m’concerts - y’getting kicked out immediately.”

Frank appears beside them, gently guiding the hysterical girl out of the room while the fans look back in confusion.

They forget all about it once Harry saunters up to them and gives them a crooked smile, “Hi, m’Harry. How are y’guys?”

The fans don’t miss his hand moving quickly to squeeze his wife’s hip in reassurance before starting to sign things and take pictures.

-

Later that night, the disgruntled ‘fan’ sends out a nasty few tweets where real fans go after her and defend YN.

Also, the true fans are cooing over the fact that Harry is such a good husband.

haleyhs22: omg, could you imagine being called out by the nicest guy on this earth

tpwkjess_young: okay but I wish I had the luck that @ynstyles has to get a manz like that 😩

UsWeekly: Harry Styles bans ignorant fan from tour after nasty videos were leaked attacking his wife

strawberriesinsummer: harry is such a VIBE. Like he deadass kicked that girl out and then spent the whole night trying to seduce his wife with his shimmies and winks - he’s the hoe 🍑

-

#update #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #hslot harry #hslot!harry #hslotrry #Washington DC hslot #harry styles fic recommendatioin #Harry styles fluff #Harry styles angsts #erodasfishtacos masterlist #harrystylesfanfic #husband!harry #harry styles husband

[sweetreserve]

ღ — BREAKING GLASS

summary. cont. of part 1. you have always loved shuichi saihara, and he has always loved you. but now something is wrong.

pairing. pre-game! shuichi saihara x (gn) reader.

genre. lots of angst. warning: this piece will contain depictions of violence, blood, knives, bullying, and swearing. please read at your own discretion.

a/n: I was supposed to be working on my essay, but then I was hit with inspiration and decided to write this instead. i haven’t been doing well mentally, so this was therapeutic to write. i never thought much about pregame shuichi, but after reading a few analysis on him, I think he’s pretty interesting. I apologize that this piece is quite sad (and if it makes you sad). I couldn’t add a “nice” resolution because it didn’t feel right to me, but I imagine things work out in the end. I want to believe they do.

anyways, please enjoy reading! reblogs are always appreciated!

Shuichi Saihara had never known peace. Even as the afternoon rain washed his body, he still felt rotten. Rotten child, forgotten boy. The air in his lungs wasn't for him - nothing was meant for his taking.

Maybe if a kind soul took pity on him, they would offer to take him home. But he knew in his heart, as the sun began setting down, no one would pick him up from school. If his own uncle didn’t notice his absence, then he truly was hated by life itself.

Shuichi began to cry. The tears felt foreign against his cheeks. He didn’t often express his sorrow since he was used to the torment and bullying from his peers, and any reaction he showed would only be used against him. But in the rain, the sadness of life and him blended perfectly together, and so he wept. Wept until he could no longer feel the emptiness in his chest.

…

Then, it stopped.

He felt the drops of rain against his skin come to a halt, a brief warmth in the midst of the cold. Shuichi groaned at the sudden change and slowly opened his eyes to see if the sky had cleared. But instead of the bright rays, he was welcomed with a raincoat above his head.

Instantly, Shuichi sat up and looked around frantically. He almost didn’t recognize the figure standing a few feet beside him, leaning against the school wall. Shuichi stared at them.

He wasn’t sure whether he should say something, whether he should hand them their coat back, and thank them for his kindness. Or perhaps it was best to pretend to sleep and wait for the rain to quiet down. But his mind wasn’t working properly, because his thoughts were clouded by the stranger, wearing nothing but their school uniform and a vacant expression.

The mysterious person, feeling a pair of eyes watching them, looked at Shuichi. Their relaxed posture stiffened as they crouched towards his side. Shuichi, in an effort to reassure that he didn’t need their help anymore, started to stand up, but the stranger immediately pushed him back down.

“Hey, don’t sit up. You need to rest.”

Shuichi sat confused. “Rest? B-But I’m fine!”

The stranger gave him a pointed look. “You don’t look fine. You’re hurt.”

Shuichi examined his body, and to his surprise, felt slight pains throughout his body. Of course he was hurt, he thought - but the pain hadn’t registered at the time. The pain of his emotions weighed more compared to the scratches and bruises that were now visible to him.

He slowly looked up at the stranger. “Um… thank you. For-For helping me.”

The stranger nodded, more focused on examining Shuichi for any further signs of injury. “You should rest for a few more minutes, then we can head to your house. Do you know where you live?”

Shuichi nodded. His uncle, being a highly-trained and well-esteemed detective, was often called to investigations at the most inconvenient moments. Though his uncle couldn’t save him from loneliness, he did force Shuichi to remember important numbers: home address, multiple phone numbers, his social security number, and his uncle’s passcode to his safe were ingrained in his brain, in case Shuichi needed to contact the police, or needed to secure himself, just like now.

The stranger smiled. “Good. Start waking up, we’ll go in a minute.”

Shuichi felt himself blush. He didn’t know what else to say, other than countless “thank you’s” (which surely would make him look like a fool), so he opted for a crooked smile instead. “Okay.”

• • •

Shuichi didn’t know when the stranger had taken his hand into theirs, the warmth of their fingers igniting a fire in Shuichi’s chest that spread throughout his body. But, for once, he didn’t care to solve the answer to that question.

Once Shuichi had told the stranger where he lived, the stranger told Shuichi to follow them, and now, with their hand securely wrapped around his, guided him through the town. It was a small part of town, granted - but for a child, everything was endless.

While the two of them didn’t say a word, Shuichi's heart filled the silence. He couldn’t think of anything else but you, a savior. Yes, you were his savior, his angel, that came to help him through the cold. He couldn’t think of anything but your skin, your hand, the back of your head pulling him from behind, and the sound of his heartbeat. He felt holy for once, the rotten boy now nourished from your touch.

He needed to ask you something. Anything. He would pry open his mouth if he could function normally for once. Because you changed something within him, made him want to be selfish. So he spoke with his strained, quiet voice that echoed through his ears.

“W-Why… Why me?”

You didn’t stop walking, but he knew you heard him. He continued.

“I… I don’t know who you are, but… but you helped me. You… saved me. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Please, who... are you?”

You stopped. Shuichi’s heart pounded harder in his chest. You must hate him now. Surely, you must. You were probably doing this out of politeness, and now he ruined it with his nonsense rambling. He wanted to die right then and there.

“Hey,” you spoke. Shuichi snapped from his trance and looked at you. You stood further away from him now, leaning against a door. No, his door. His home.

“We’re here.”

Shuichi blushed. “O-Oh, yeah… Um, thank you.”

Shuichi stared at the ground, wishing he could be alone to wallow in his despair. He waited for you to leave, then he would head inside, take a shower, and fall asleep to forget that he had, once again, ruined a chance at friendship.

But you didn’t leave.

“I saw you,” you said, staring at the small boy. Shuichi’s eyes widened, attentive to your next words. “... Saw you getting pushed around by those other boys.”

Shuichi nodded. “Y-Yeah. They, um, do that… sometimes.”

The person scoffed. “Doesn’t look like sometimes. Every day I’m about to walk home, they’re always cornering you near the back of the school. Probably stealing your stuff and hitting you, right?”

Shuichi nodded again, but he didn’t speak. He couldn’t lie this time. Not to you.

“You should stand up for yourself. They can’t keep bullying you like that.”

Shuichi looked up, his eyes focused on you. Never in his life did he think he would hear those words. Protect himself, he thought. He couldn’t do such a thing… could he? No, you were his angel, you knew him better than he knew himself. You helped him, and you would help him again.

His voice cracked. “Why… Why do you want to help me?”

You looked into his eyes, but Shuichi didn’t look away. He wouldn’t this time.

“Because you don’t deserve to be abused. We’re just… kids, ya know?”

• • •

Shuichi didn’t sleep that day.

He clutched one of his uncle’s many gifted journals and wrote down the experience, once and then once more. Every time he wrote about meeting you, he found himself learning more. How calm you were when cloud-gazing. How quiet you were around strangers. How you were kind and protected those weaker than yourself. Brave when you held Shuichi’s hand throughout town and nothing had stopped you from reaching your destination. And you were strong. Your grip never wavered. Not with him, at least.

[Name]. You whispered your name to him before you left, promising that you would keep an eye on him from now on. An angel, Shuichi thought. He wrote your name with his black, elegant pen, with hearts connecting to each letter. You deserved the world.

While you were in different classes, you kept your promise. The same rowdy boys teased Shuichi during class, but during breaks and after school, you were instantly at his side, talking about whatever interested you that day. Even if it wasn’t anything important, like your mother buying you your favorite ice cream or you winning a game of tag, you still spoke, and Shuichi listened attentively.

You didn’t mean to do it. You talked about all sorts of things because it would protect Shuichi from getting involved with those rowdy boys. If you distracted Shuichi and separated him with conversations, they would grow restless from his diverted attention and decide to pick on someone else. You were the teacher’s favorite, after all. If they decided to pick a fight with you, well… let’s just say, they wouldn’t be able to tease Shuichi ever again.

But to Shuichi, your rambles about your everyday life were gifts from the gods. He wasn’t religious, but he found himself thanking any higher beings in the universe who brought you to him. Every time you spoke with him, he wrote down the newly acquired information. Your favorite foods (maybe he could bake you something you liked?), your favorite hobbies (well, he might give it a try - if you like it, maybe he will too?), your pets (oh, how cute... maybe you could show him a picture?), your favorite colors (he never had a favorite color, but now yours was also his), and so on.

At times, Shuichi thought you were tired of him, tired of his prying, and tired of his anxious nature. But every day you smiled, just for him. He hoped this was a sign you were warming up to him. You stayed with him, after all. You chose him.

“Shu-chan, have you ever played tag? Regular tag is fine, but freeze tag is even better. I could show you sometime.”

Shuichi felt tears in his eyes. “Y-Yes… I would love that, [Name]!”

• • •

It was 4 pm.

Shuichi Saihara huffed in a breath as he waited for you outside the high school. You were supposed to be walking home together like you do every day. Or mostly every day, if Shuichi was free from his uncle’s errands and you free of morning allergies.

But today, you had walked with Shuichi happily, telling a corny joke that made Shuichi and you laugh heartily. And he had seen you during lunch, asking him about the new Danganronpa episode that premiered. You didn’t particularly care for the show, but you knew Shuichi was a huge fan. It wasn’t the production or story that made you dislike it. Danganronpa had never been more well-produced, with glowing ratings every season and fans all over the world tuning to watch every episode. But you couldn’t help but feel dread wash over you when you overheard people discuss murder like it was merely entertainment, or planning their own fictional murders if they ever auditioned for the show. Sure, it was fictional, you knew that. But some people were too… gleeful at the thought of killing. Perhaps, you were sensitive. It was a show, nothing more. Nevertheless, you talked about it happily for Shuichi, the biggest Danganronpa fanboy you knew.

And you were fine.

So, why haven’t you shown up? Shuichi didn’t recognize any symptoms of a cold or a migraine, you didn’t seem down or tired - you acted normal. So why...?

Shuichi felt it. A slight shift in the wind, coming towards the back of the school. His eyes widened. The front gate of the school was empty, the eerie feeling one experiences when alone in a public place. He knew you didn’t leave him alone by choice. Maybe another person could have done so, and he would assume they hated him or forgot about him. But not you. You were his angel… and you were gone.

The young detective acted quickly, entering the school in search of something to defend himself with, and to rescue you. He wasn’t strong nor was he fast - but he was smart. He knew what he had to do.

• • •

“G-Get away from me, you weirdo!” you yelled, kicking and screaming at a boy who held your arms tightly around your back.

“Oi, hush them up, will you?” the first boy said to the second one behind you. Boy two nodded and covered your mouth with his hand. You screamed, but the noise came out muffled.

“You bite my hand or do any weird shit, and I’ll cut your tongue off,” boy two said, pressing your back against him as his grip held you tighter. You growled lowly but remained settled.

Another pair of boys came running, one with your backpack and the other with a knife. Boy three spoke. “Didn’t find anything useful. They might have something on them.”

“Oh?” Boy one said, an evil smirk spreading across his face. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that won’t we?”

You began thrashing around, but boy two, the strongest of the boys, didn’t let you leave so easily. He rolled his eyes. “Just hurry the hell up. The longer we stay, the more likely we’ll get caught. The phone is the most valuable thing on them." Boy two grabbed your phone out of your sweater pocket and tossed it to boy one.

Boy one scoffed and turned to boy four. “You locked the gym door, right?” Boy four nodded. “Then we’ll take as long as we need to. I’m not going back empty-handed.” His eyes darkened. “Not again…”

The three boys grew silent as boy one marched in front of you. The knife boy four carried was now in his hand. Your eyes widened. This was a dream. Surely, it was a dream. You had left class early to put away some cleaning supplies, and now you were captured by four delinquents planning on robbing you - and if you weren’t careful, hurting you.

They wouldn’t kill you, right? They were just students. . . Not like those hardened, apathetic adults that sat in jail with blood on their hands. No, you couldn’t die. Shuichi was waiting for you. He was waiting…

“You’re going to tell me your phone passcode, and your bank information, so that I can transfer the money to me,” boy one said, inching closer towards you. “And if you fight back…” He drew the knife to your neck, and you leaned back reflexively despite boy two’s body preventing you from going far. “Then I’ll cut you, and break everything you own.”

You didn’t want to give anything to those four idiots… but you didn't want to die. Dying at school, with no sign that they were ever there. Shuichi would be alone. Your family would worry. Money can be replaced, but your life couldn’t be. You remind yourself that as boy two slowly removed his hand from your mouth.

“I…” Your voice hitched. Why you? Why did they target you? “Why…”

“Goddammit, no questions! Just do it,” boy one said. The other boys behind him watched intensely, anticipating your next move in case you tried to escape. You weren’t strong enough, not fast enough to escape. Four on one? You were asking to die.

You closed your eyes. If you were going to give in, you weren’t going to look at them. “It’s…”

“Ah-!”

Your eyes shot open as a scream echoed throughout the yard. Boy three lay bleeding on the ground, his neck torn open by a long cut.

“What the…?

Before boy four finish his sentence, the same knife stabbed into his stomach and the new boy kicked his jaw, knocking him to the ground.

No… not a new boy. You didn’t want to believe who it was, but as he walked closer…

“[Name],” Shuichi spoke lowly, the knife in his hands gleaming in the sunlight. “Close your eyes.”

Boy two held you tightly, but your mouth remained free. You doubt it would matter because you could barely find your voice.

“Shu… Shuichi…” Tears slipped down your face. “Don’t… Don’t…”

A body grabbed Shuichi and threw him to the ground. Both boys struggled to grab the knife when boy two rushed to boy one’s aid.

“No!” you yelled. “Shuichi! Shuichi, run!”

But he refused.

In the instant boy one grabbed ahold of the knife and lunged toward Shuichi, Shuichi pushed boy two in front of him and watched the knife stab through his neck. Boy one froze, and with an opening, Shuichi grabbed the knife from his body and slashed boy one’s stomach. Both boys fell to the floor.

Despite the spring rays bringing warmth to your body, you felt cold. Your body was frozen to ice. All you could do was watch Shuichi tear the boys to shreds. All you could do was watch him kill them.

“H-Hey! What the-the fuck, man? It’s just… We’re just fooling around!” boy one said, clutching his stomach as Shuichi slowly walked towards him. “I wasn’t gonna… ugh, gonna hurt them! You’re fucking… fucking insane! You’ll be arrested!”

“If you hurt [Name], I wouldn’t care.”

“Fuck! We didn’t, okay? We didn’t! We just grabbed them and- ugh!”

Shuichi stabbed the boy again with the knife, this time in the leg. The boy screamed.

“Shuichi, stop! Stop it!”

Shuichi glanced at you. The bright Shuichi, the Shuichi who wouldn’t hurt a fly, who blushed at the slightest hint of affection… now looked at you with darkened eyes. There was no sign of life in them. It was mere apathy.

“Shuichi, they didn’t hurt me. They didn’t cut me or anything, they just grabbed me. They just wanted my money, that’s all. They don’t deserve to… to die! Please, Shuichi, please listen to me!” you yelled to Shuichi. You hadn’t screamed ever so loud before in your entire life. And you were sure he could hear you, but whether it would register in his mind was a different matter. But you would keep trying.

“This isn’t you! You’re not a murderer!”

Shuichi fixed on the trembling boy, slowly bleeding.

“They’re just… kids, Shuichi,” you said shakily. “Just like us.”

Shuichi Saihara slumped to the ground. He averted his eyes from the pools of blood that stained the green blades of grass. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he refused to sob.

Instead, he looked at you.

“They hurt you.”

“Shuichi…”

“You saved me… Since we were kids, you saved me. I-I was so weak, so pathetic. But… But you changed everything,” he said.

A sob left your mouth. “Shuichi…”

“No one was going to take me home, [Name]. No one even talked to me, looked at me the way you did. Can’t you see? You’re… you’re everything to me.

… And I’m going to protect you. I’m going… to save you, just like you saved me. No matter what. No matter…”

Shuichi walked toward you, but you inched further away from him. You yelled at him.

“No! Not like this. Not like this…”

“[Name],” his eyes widened.

“This isn’t you, Shuichi. You’re a pacifist, you’re... you're not a killer!”

You wanted to scream, this isn't Danganronpa! And he wasn’t going to be executed or win the game. He was going to jail, where you would never see him again, and where he would have no future. There was no prize to win. It was life. A cruel, short life.

“If you killed any of them,” you began as your heart poured out of your soul, “then… then, I can’t speak to you anymore.”

The sky was silent again.

Boy one’s grunts and moans had turned into whimpers, and the rest of the boys remained completely silent.

Shuichi felt a rush of bile in his throat. “Wh… No… You- You don’t mean that…”

You forced yourself to look at him. “You’re not the one I loved. You’re not a murderer. I can’t live with myself, knowing you risked your life, your future to protect me from some… some idiots. I can’t… I can’t live anymore if…”

“No! Don’t say that!”

Shuichi rushed to your side, his eyes pleading. “I promise, I won’t do it! I won’t hurt anyone like that again!”

“Shuichi…”

“Just please! Please, don’t leave me! Don’t… Don’t leave me…”

Shuichi Saihara sobbed at your side. You pushed his head into your shoulder as you both cried. To think you walked to school with such relaxed smiles, soft glances, and hushed giggles. You had fed Shuichi some of your rice, and laughed when he started choking from the intimate gesture.

And now, you sat crying underneath the sunny rays that once warmed your heart. The sun that made you smile, now bled along with the four bodies, with Shuichi holding you like it was his last day alive.

#shuichi saihara x reader #danganronpa x reader #pregame shuichi x reader #pregame shuichi saihara x reader #pregame shuichi saihara #daydreams [💭]

[lovelyaces]

I'll hold your hand

tasm!peter x reader

hello lovely people ! first of all thank you for the wondeful feedback on my previous fic, it nearly made me cry. second of all, this fic is a whole different style, as it is inspired by my not so great week but writing about it makes me feel better somehow

anyway i hope you also enjoy this silly piece,

love, ace 🌷

PS : i apologise for any english mistake, as it is not my first language

When you closed the door of your apartment, your bag immediately fell on the ground. You slid against the door and rested your head on your knees. You were having a rough week, with two of the babies you had in the ICU being in critical condition. Being professional and cutting emotions out when working was easy, but once at home, every feeling bottled up just flooded out. However tonight, nothing seemed to come out, as if your brain was still processing what you witnessed earlier. You decided to stand up and go sit for some fresh air on the fire escape. After a while, you heard Peter at the door, coming home from work.

“Darling ?” he called, looking for you in the living room.

“Out here.”

“Hey you” he sat next to you. He was grinning. Then he took a closer look at your expression and frowned “What happened bug ? Rough day ?”.

You could only nod, feeling the knot in your throat getting bigger. He scooted closer to you and you instantly wrapped your arms around him. You both stayed like this for a while, the golden sun rays making it look like a renaissance painting.

“Wanna talk about it ?” he asked wearily. You untangled yourself from Peter and looked at him. He looked so concerned about you, so you tried to smooth the worry out by caressing his cheek. You opened your mouth to try to explain your day “I...I just...It’s...”.

Nothing could come out. And then, as if a dam broke, you started spilling everything “It was awful Pete...They are barely a week old and already have to go through so much.” You were sobbing right now and Peter placed your head on his shoulder without interrupting you.

“The parents started crying the moment they stepped in the room with us in it. And I felt really bad because where we see a baby displaying a rare condition, they see us standing like freaks around their child.”, you sniffed and wiped your tears with your sleeve, “I just wanted to take the babies in my arms and tell them everything would be okay in the end.”

Peter was giving you time to let it all out and then, he stood up.

“Where are you going ?”, you asked, slightly confused.

“Follow me.”, he extended his hand to you and you took it.

You both got inside and Peter went to grab his phone. He chose some slow song he knew you adored and took both of your hands.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be for you to witness that, but I can try. I also know that you are the strongest person I know, and you continue to prove it with every passing day. I am immensely proud of you.” He began to dance, tucking your head under his chin.

“More importantly, I want you to know that I’ll always hold your hand through rough times.”

You looked up at him with so much adoration in your eyes. He truly was the light in your darkest days. You tip toed and leaned in to kiss him.

“I love you Pete. So much.”

You and Peter were dancing in your kitchen, windows wide open and curtains flowing to the nice June breeze. His thumb was stroking your hand that was resting on his chest. The world seemed to have faded out, just to leave you two have this moment. You were swaying softly to the music when a tear rolled down your cheek.

“I fear you’re never going to know how much I love you.” you whispered.

“I know love.” he said, matching your tone, in fear of breaking the bubble you two were in. He squeezed your hand and pulled you closer.

“You do ?”

Peter wiped your tears and made you look into his eyes.

“There won’t be a single day when I won’t know how much you love me, you know why ?”, you shook your head no.

“Because I love you just the same.”

#andrew garfield imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker

[aellynera]

Hi love! Can you do a Oscar Isaac x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and he gets jealous of the tweets? Thank you so much, I love your page. ❤️

Hello lovely Nonnie! I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally got super inspired to finish it. It’s not Oscar Isaac per se (I don’t do RPF) but I thought about it a bit and I was like...but I will do a Llewyn AU. So that’s what I did, and here it is, and I hope you and whoever else reads it, enjoys it! (note: most of the tweets came from various Thirst Tweet videos on YouTube, but there are a couple I just made up.)

I Want Llewyn Davis to Blank Me in the Blank (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader, Modern AU)

Word Count: 1300(ish)

Warnings: Some language, sexual references but nothing graphic or explicit just suggestive, floof.

- Llewyn isn’t sure what a BuzzFeed is, and to be honest, he’s not even sure what the hell a thirst tweet is. 

- You’re always teasing him that, if the world suddenly loses all technology tomorrow and the internet and social media disappear, he’ll be the only one who will still be able to function, and he’ll probably be a lot happier.

- You’re not wrong.

- He hates social media. Doesn’t understand what the point is really, why so many people are obsessed with it. Yeah, he technically has official accounts on all the major platforms, mainly because you insisted and set them up. They’re just placeholders and he never uses them.

- The only reason he’s even here to do this media gig is because you asked, all wide puppy-dog eyes and gnawed-on bottom lip, and he knows that you know he can’t say no to that.

- Not that he ever really wants to say no to you, but sometimes...

- Now he’s almost one hundred percent certain he regrets it.

- You’ve tried explaining the concept to him, probably like twenty-some times, and you’re trying again now, but as you lead him into the studio it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

- People don’t know you’re together, so he’s annoyed by that on top of everything else, because he can’t call you any of the usual pet names that roll off his tongue like melted butter.

- No angel. No baby. No sweetheart. It fucking sucks.

- "It’s not a serious thing, Llewyn. Just...fake it till you make it. Make jokes about it, it’ll be fine,” you tell him.

- You sit side by side at a little table, a couple feet apart, and a production assistant put a little metal bucket in front of each of you.

- Llewyn gives you a weird look. You just shake your head and smile this cute little smile that he does his level best to ignore because, well, you’re in public and nobody knows.

- Then the tweets come out of the buckets.

- Things I requite in a man: five nine, pisces, grammy nominated, llewyn davis. That’s all i ever need.

- Why is Llewyn Davis so attractive? He’s like 30 years older than me and I’m a lesbian but he still gets me hot and bothered.

- I cannot believe Llewyn Davis invented being sexy.

- Llewyn Davis got thicc lips and thicc hips

- I want Llewyn Davis to be my daddy but not in the fatherly kind of way.

- There’s a lot more, but honestly, they all sort of blend together.

- He manages to laugh them off and make some clever comments but he shoots you a look that’s part confusion, part disdain, and really annoyed. You just shrug.

- But then the tweets start coming out of your bucket, and Llewyn’s brain instantly regains its laser-focus.

- First, because everyone calls you by your online handle, which drives the nail further into Llewyn’s coffin because of his inability to actually call you cute names night now.

- Secondly, who do these assholes think they are, talking about his girl like this?

- Hello? Maker? Can we talk about how you put the heavens in AngelEyes’s eyes, because it’s starting to cause some serious problems over here. Kthx.

- I want to lick cherry-flavored jello off AngelEyes fingers, why does life have to be so unfair?

- Sit on my face and suffocate me, AngelEyes.

- AngelEyes’s boobs are a gift from whatever deity you choose to believe in, and if you’re an atheist, well, then more tits for me.

- I’m pretty sure AngelEyes could get all my children out of me, and I’m willing to take that challenge.

- Llewyn’s kind of tuned out, trying not to pay any attention to all the dirty things the world wants to do to you, but his head finally snaps up and his arm does too and his little metal bucket goes crashing to the floor.

- You (and everyone else in the studio) just stare at him.

- “Could I...” he clears his throat, “could I speak to you, for just a minute? Like, out in the hall?”

- “Okay?” you say slowly, but stand up and head towards the door, with him right behind you.

- The door barely has a change to swing shut behind you before Llewyn is on you, frantically pressing his lips to yours in a soul-sucking kiss.

- “Llewyn, what are you doing?” you hiss when you finally break away for air.

- It took quite a few minutes before you absolutely needed that break and you’re fairly certain people are going to come looking for you any second because you have to be taking a lot longer to “talk” than Llewyn implied.

- “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to sit there and pretend all those tweets are okay”

- He’s pressing you against the wall and you can’t help the slightly impish smile that comes to your face. “I have a pretty good idea.”

- Llewyn glares through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny, AngelEyes.”

- “I was listening to all the ones people said about you too. Don’t get so worked up, Llewyn, it’s all in good fun.”

- Llewyn snorts.

- “Baby, are you...jealous?” You raise a brow at him.

- “I have half a mind to just take you up against this wall, right now.”

- “You’re jealous.”

- His mouth is suddenly a breath away from yours again, and he murmurs, “I just want people to know that you’re mine. And to know that I’m yours. And to never read a single thirst tweet ever again in my entire life,” before his desperate lips are back on yours.

- This time, he pulls out of the kiss first and you rest your head on his shoulder and try to catch your breath again.

- He’s checking something on his phone - replying to a text from his manager Snap or his sister, maybe, you’re only vaguely aware that he’s actually on his phone at all.

- But then you feel your own phone vibrate in your pocket.

- You pull it out and immediately almost drop it.

- “Llewyn. You...you didn’t.”

- Llewyn looks at you with a completely innocent face. He slides his phone back in his pocket and hooks a thumb towards the door. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Come on, we should probably get back in there before they send a search party.”

- You barely have time to process the notification that Llewyn Davis (@ folksingerwithacatofficial) has made his first tweet! Check it out! and even less time to actually read it before Llewyn disappears through the door and you have to follow.

- But it there was a picture - you didn’t even know Llewyn knew how to do that. And if he had an extra minute, he’d be inordinately proud of himself.

- It’s from a friend’s rooftop party a couple weeks ago. You’re behind him with your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, and he has his eyes closed and a happy, content little smile on his face.

- There’s no way anyone’s going to look at it and be like, ‘oh they’re just friends.’ But the caption definitely clears it up.

- Never been happier than I am w/AngelEyes by my side. Aren’t enough words to say how much I love you, baby. Maybe I’ll just write you a song or ten.

- You head back into the studio, about to shove your phone back in your pocket, your face burning hotter than the sun, but it vibrates again and you see the corners of Llewyn lips turn up, even though he’s pointedly not looking at you.

- There’s another tweet.

- Now go get some water y’all and stop talking about my girlfriend’s tits. At least give her ass the credit it deserves too.

- Llewyn pretends not to notice when, five minutes later, everyone’s phones and laptops and tablets start blowing up with notifications and reactions. He just pulls you into his lap and kisses you softly on the cheek.

Everything Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @iflostreturntobudcooper @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @leto-duke @littlebopper96 @reysflyboy @rosemarysbaby13 @spider-starry @veuliee @waatermelon-sugaar @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @yourbucky084

Llewyn Taglist: @santiagogarcia

>>join my taglist here<<

#allison answers #lovely anon #llewyn davis #llewyn davis blurb #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #inside llewyn davis blurb #inside llewyn davis modern au #my writing #oscar isaac characters

[wonlouvre]

Yayyy i absolutely love your writing!!

I would like to request a Hoshi × gn!idol! Reader angst+fluff imagine where Soonyoung cheers/takes care of his reserved s/o who has been having a hard time and has opened up to him about it for the first time. S/o is someone who can't say no easily and because of that their workload had increased a lot. But in the end they can't hold themselves any longer and breaks down.

strength | k. sy.

pairing: hoshi x gn!idol reader genre: fluff, angst, then fluff again warnings: mentions of anxiety, physical and mental tiredness (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.8k+ (i honestly don’t even know anymore)

💌: thank you very much for requesting! i made some tweaks here and there and i hope you still like it! thank you for loving my writing as well :’( it really means a lot that <3 i hope you like this!

Soonyoung was aware that you’d be coming from Japan for your collaborative magazine photoshoot. He just didn’t know that you’d be going straight from the airport at four o’clock in the morning. 

He thought he read your message wrong saying that you’re on your way to the assigned shooting location. As far as he’s concerned, the call time was at seven a.m. He had to do a double take while squinting his eyes over the brightness of his phone but when he saw another bubble pop out saying you’re already there, he immediately jumped off his bed to shower. 

He misses you. You’ve been going in and out of the country because of promotions and the chances of getting to see you has been slim to none. If he ever meets with you, it will be short because either one of you has to go back to work or has to go back to bed because there is a flight to catch the next day. It’s obviously tough. But your relationship perseveres. 

Soonyoung will do everything to make it work and you are together with him on that. So if it means he has to shower half-asleep and wear his boxers backwards just to see you, he’d never mind.

Your Japanese album tour started and ended successfully but work didn’t stop from there. You were just getting started. Before leaving the said country, you were fully booked for live television performances, interviews, variety shows and the like. It was exhausting but, it was an opportunity that you couldn’t miss out on for the world even if you wanted to. 

Soonyoung is proud of you and he will always be. Heart eyes were formed whenever he got the chance to watch your performances whether it be from a paid livestream event or from kind fans sharing and uploading their videos or photos on Twitter or Instagram. He’s even more in love when it’s in person and he gets to watch your performance plus enjoy it with your never failing supportive fans. 

However, Soonyoung is also worried because he knows you’re also tired. He knows how fulfilling it is to do what you love the most, but he’s no stranger to the physically and mentally tiring part of it. He wasn’t even surprised to catch you asleep on the couch when he arrived at your dressing room. 

Your manager’s eyes brightened when they saw him, quickly standing up from the chair to give him a hug. 

“They told me they just need a fifteen minute nap,” they whisper against Soonyoung’s shoulder as he hugs them back. “But we both know they need more than that.”

Soonyoung sadly smiles while his eyes never leave your curled form. He mutters a simple “I’ll take it from here” while your manager excuses themself to buy everyone breakfast. 

It’s a challenge to take you into his arms without disturbing your sleep because he doesn’t want that from happening. He just wants to hold you for the remaining time without interruption from other people. He just wants to hold you and share this moment of calm before the lights and camera get into action later. 

Soonyoung’s thankful you didn't, although he still felt your lips lightly ghost against his jaw, telling him that you know that he’s here. He brings your legs over his lap while he cradles your head close to his neck. He wishes to lay down, but the couch is too cramped for two bodies so he’d have to settle with this position. He guesses it’s fine with how you deeply inhale his scent and snuggle closer and closer, locking your arms around his waist with no intentions of letting go. 

Just like you, he falls asleep, completely comfortable and content in finally having you in his arms again. 

Your tangled bodies were shaken to wake up at least an hour later. Both of your managers have food in their hand, ready to energize the two of you up before moving forward with the hair and makeup. The agenda for today includes a photoshoot with several changes of outfit, a short shoot for an audio video presentation and lastly an interview or question and answer of some sort. 

Your relationship has been publicly known for two years already. Some fans have been supportive while some have been angry. It’s nothing new and it’s nothing the two of you could care about at this point. 

Countless projects have been offered to the two of you during the course of those two years whether it be a song or dance performance, a guesting on a famous variety show and even a three second cameo appearance on a drama. They’re all lovely offers and you would love to participate, but the two of you made a decision to keep the relationship private. Sure, you’ll accept it from time to time. But, it’s still very limited to one to two songs to sing or dance to together and some magazine photoshoots. Just like now. 

By far, this is the third time the two of you would be featured on a magazine cover. Your respective publicists already know how to communicate to the publishing company your terms and conditions. Questions about your relationship are allowed, but to a certain number only. The rest will be about what’s mostly seen by fans and the rest of the public which is automatically your music. 

The concept is not necessarily daringly romantic. After all, what you’re trying to promote here is the clothes. But your chemistry is maintained with a few fleeting touches here and there. In one shot, you two were holding hands and the other has his arm is loosely wrapped around your neck. 

You and Soonyoung are careful to not get lost in each other’s eyes during the short breaks in between because the cameras were still rolling. Although, his soft touches on your hand and arm still lingered. On the other hand, you help him fix his hair whenever he gets excited and jumps from time to time. You could kiss him right now, but again, you want to be careful. 

The shoot concluded faster than you thought and the next thing you know, the two of you are sitting side by side with a camera blinking red in front, ready to record the interview included in the contract. 

The interview consisted of questions that’s nothing out of the ordinary. The magazine asked about your favorite go-to styles lately, your look inspirations, a little bit of this or that, your recent music releases or favorite music releases at the moment and of course something about your relationship that you're comfortable and willing enough to share. 

But one particular question caught you off guard that you had to hold your tears and brave through the rest of the interview without showing any signs that you’re about to cry.

“How have you guys been lately, individually?”

“I’ve been great,” you quickly answer with a smile that didn’t even reach your eyes. The camera may not have noticed, but Soonyoung did. It took a lot of patience and restraint for your boyfriend to stop himself from cutting the interviewer off to ask you again how you really have been. 

Everything that was in store for the two of you today ends and when the cameras are gone, you and Soonyoung hand in hand walk back to your dressing room. It’s a relief that this is the last project for the day and you’re glad you could get some rest for the coming week.

Your body slumps on the couch while the staff pack up. You puff out a breath before closing your eyes. You wish you could yell out how tired you are lately. Work piled up over the course of six months and you couldn’t have at least two days away from the makeup and flashing lights. 

Soonyoung bites his lower lip as he settles beside you. He’s contemplating whether he should ask you now or later because he doesn’t want you to grow conscious and shut yourself away. He knows how brave and strong you are. But he also wants you to know that you can trust him and that if you ever need a shoulder to cry or at least lean on, his are more than welcoming. 

“You okay, babe?” He asks in the quiet as the staff leaves one by one. “Anything bothering you?”

You surprise him by sitting up straight and opening your eyes, welling with tears. That makes him shoot up and instantly hug you close. “Oh baby.”

You finally cry and set free the tears that you’ve been locking deep within you. You thought you could brave through this pain and anxiety without having the need to shed any vulnerability. You thought this shall pass soon. You thought you could do this. 

But here you are now letting go with sniffles and shaking shoulders as Soonyoung gently caresses the top of your head. 

He hates to see you cry. But it’s only right to let you. 

“I just feel like I’m going to miss out on everything if I turn down any project offered to me.”

Soonyoung pouts when he hears what’s been bothering you. It took a while for you to calm down and finally talk, but it’s okay. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind. 

“I understand, honey,” he assures you and wipes your tear stained cheek. “And there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.”

Your lips shake again and crying makes you want to hide. Without hesitation, you crawl to your boyfriend’s lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. Soonyoung doesn’t complain and just keeps you close, protective arms around your waist.

The dressing room is empty except for the two of you. The staff got the message once Soonyoung pleaded with them through his eyes to give you some time with him since you’re already done for the day.

“It’s also okay to work and work,” he continues, soothing hands rubbing against your back. “But at some point, it’s also okay to take a break for them.”

You pull away and rest your hands on his neck. “Even though I’m going to miss out?”

Soonyoung nods and leans his forehead against yours. “Yes and there’s also nothing wrong with that.”

“I seriously want to go on a trip with my family,” you say and sigh. “And of course, with you too.”

Soonyoung can’t help but giggle. “I’d love to. How about next month? Let’s go somewhere with your family or friends. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

Your boyfriend’s enthusiasm puts a smile on your face and this time, the smile reaches your eyes. “Let’s go somewhere quiet first. I want to take a long nap before we proceed to do anything that needs an awake body.”

“You got it, babe,” Soonyoung promises and kisses your lips.

#seventeen #hoshi #seventeen scenarios #hoshi scenarios #seventeen scenario #hoshi scenario #seventeen drabbles #hoshi drabbles #seventeen drabble #hoshi drabble #seventeen imagines #hoshi imagines #seventeen imagine #hoshi imagine #seventeen fanfic #hoshi fanfic #kwon soonyoung #seventeen fluff #hoshi fluff #fic: adore u #drabble: adore u #drabble: strength

[imerdwarf]

Sworn To Secrecy

Requested by @imagine-all-the-fandoms: Hey colleague ❤️ I really love your writing! So I also thought to send you an idea 😊 The reader is Bucky’s girlfriend but just a normal civilian and he keeps it a secret at the compound. One day she visits him but crosses the other Avengers and Sam is immediately flirting with you but Bucky just comes, swoops you in his arms and kisses you. The others are shocked and confused and later that day they finally tell them they’ve been together for a while now and they are all happy for you two? 😊

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!Reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: Absolutely none! Just a lot of fluff 🥰

Author's Notes: Thank you so much my dear friend for sending in this beautiful request, I hope you like it and please let me know if there's anything you want me to change! 💜

Your phone vibrated in the palm of your hand and your smile reached both corners of your eyes when you saw the name light up your screen.

Bucky: I can't wait to see you, how long until you get here?

Your fingers flew quickly over the touch sensitive keyboard to reply back, without any typos might I add.

Y/N: I'm five minutes away. Patience! ;)

The wind blew in your face as you tilted your head upwards and sighed. Your relationship with Bucky Barnes was absolutely not the easiest thing in the world. He had made you sworn to secrecy about it, to protect yourself and him from potential haters and enemies.

You were grateful that you were able to spend a lot of time together when he didn't have month-long missions to go on. The sunny afternoons were spent in your small apartment on the couch watching movies with a blanket draped over the two of you, often accompanied by a hot chocolate made from his secret recipe.

Everything about Bucky screamed safety; his big beefy frame, bulging biceps that he just knew you loved and deliberately bought small sizes to show them off, his thick thighs were a dream for you whenever you draped your legs over them to get comfortable. Nothing about him scared you, not even that matte black and gold Wakandan inspired arm of his. It did wonders when you were burning up with fevers.

You met Bucky by chance at a coffee shop in Brooklyn. It was a cliché moment when you accidentally turned around too quickly and spilled your hot drink over his white shirt. Endless apologies spilled from your lips while Bucky was too busy admiring your beautiful features that your words simply fell on deaf ears. To Bucky, it felt as though time had temporarily stopped ticking, and the only people in the coffee shop at that moment was you and him.

The two of you exchanged numbers with your promises of buying him a brand new shirt to replace the one you ruined. You texted each other every second of every day. The more you talked, the easier and the flirty-er the texts became.

A month after the coffee shop incident, you almost keeled over when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. He regretted he couldn't take you on a date because of his status, and that never really bothered you.

You didn't date him because he was a popular avenger, with a staggering 100 million followers on his Instagram. For your protection, he couldn't follow you either, but that too didn't bother you. You dated him because you loved his personality and you loved him.

You zig-zagged past the oncoming pedestrians as the tower came into view. Outside of the gates there was already a crowd of people hoping to catch a glimpse of the avengers.

The security guard in the booth next to the gate was trying to reason with the crowd, sadly a building this well known attracted all kinds of attention and tourism. You were told that people from Australia would come to visit.

You approached the guard with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon sir," you greeted politely, pulling some I.D out from your purse.

"Good afternoon! Are you expected here today?" The guard smiled but looked over your shoulder to see the crowd was now taking pictures of the front of the tower. He shooed them away and brought his attention back to you.

"Yes, Sergeant James Barnes is expecting me." The way his name rolled off your tongue was like drops of honey. Smooth and sweet.

The guard checked the list of visitors expected today and hummed with a smile.

"So he is. So what you do is, go to the front desk with your visitor badge and they'll direct you to his floor."

With a quiet thanks and holding on tightly to the badge, you walk through the screeching iron gates. Your shoes crunch underneath the gravel and the wind howls through the trees that gives off extra privacy.

The lady at reception greets you warmly and you relax when you give her your name and show her your visitor badge as directed by the security guard.

"Take the elevator and go to floor 13. Sergeant Barnes is currently in a meeting but he won't be too long." Another thank you passes through your lips as you head off towards the glass and chrome elevator.

The ride up to the 13 floors was agonisingly slow. Classical music filled the emptiness of the elevator. The glass casing gave you a beautiful view overlooking the grounds of the compound. A rose garden of all different shades of roses up the far left of the green garden surrounded by cherry blossoms and hydrangeas. Benches scattered across the grounds that you hoped to one day have the pleasure of sitting on and watch the bumblebees.

This was another reason Bucky loved you so much, you were so passionate and kind against wildlife and nature.

Finally, after god knows how long you've been staring out into the garden daydreaming, the elevator doors ding open and you're greeted with a muscular blond God with a red Cape hung over his back and a creepy wide grin on his face. His scruffy hair made you think he hadn't washed it in a few days.

"I was expecting someone else, but hello!" His voice seemed to boom throughout the space of whatever room this actually was. Some kind of hallway, but you're pretty sure you would hear his voice from all the way from that beautiful garden.

"Uh hello!" You stuttered, taken by surprise that there would be other people here.

"I am Thor, the God of Thunder!" His arms went wide and so did his smile. Your mouth gaped open and closed when you recognised the name. Thor. God of thunder. Of course, you read about these gods and how he ruled Asgard. Or was set to.

"Thor! Of course," you chuckled nervously, stretching your hand out in front of you, "I'm Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you! Please follow me and allow me to introduce you to my mortal friends," you chuckled at that line, and adjusted your sweater.

"Friends, mortals! We have a guest, this is Y/N, A human of Earth." Thor stepped aside and your eyes widened; you were only standing in the same room as the avengers, the same people Bucky spoke so highly of. Thor told you the names of the people in front of you, everyone was there and you wondered where the hell Bucky was.

Tony was the first one to step forward and looked you up and down by moving his tinted glasses to the bridge of his nose. You relaxed when he smiled, but only slightly. You realised they had not asked why some stranger was standing in their living room.

"You know who I am?" Tony asked smugly, his arms folded over his chest.

You nodded, your eyes flickered down his chest, his arc reactor lit up in a bright blue. You almost reached out to touch it but stopped yourself before you could.

"Uh yes. You're Tony I believe?" You blushed under their gazes. Bucky told you they were the best people, but to you they were very intimidating.

"Very good. What brings you to my tower?"

"I'm here to see—"

"Wow! Who is this?" A voice yelled out from behind you. A guy you recognised as Sam, or Falcon, or Birdbrain as Bucky liked to call him.

"Y/N!" Thor answered before you could, the rest of the avengers took a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, hi," a small laugh came out and it made your cheeks heat up when his eyes raked over your form.

"My, my. You are gorgeous!" He kept that grin on his lips as he stepped closer. His over-sprayed cologne was suffocating you. "Beautiful, just perfect, just—"

"Mine!" Bucky yelled from the doorway as he stormed past Sam to get to you. You bit your lip to hide the growing grin and failed, he swooped you up in his arms, your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun the two of you around and kissed you.

Cat calls sounded from the couch and you smiled into the kiss. When you pulled away for air, the expressions on everyone's faces told you they needed and wanted an explanation.

You could only imagine the questions they wanted to ask; how did you know Bucky Barnes? How did a soldier and an assassin manage to keep a relationship so hidden under the eyes of a mind-reader and a super intelligent spy? How did Bucky not slip up to Steve about having a girlfriend? All valid questions of course.

Bucky lowered you back down on your feet and pressed his forehead against yours. Without giving the team an answer, he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you away, leaving the superheroes with confusion etched upon their faces.

Bucky gave you a thorough tour of the tower. He showed you the gym, the kitchen where he made you his favourite sandwich, he even showed you his room. It was painted in a light blue with white curtains and blinds, thick, soft cream carpet covered the floor and his bed was as soft as a cloud. It was a lot more comfortable than your bed, that's for sure.

Later that day, Tony ordered a takeout and invited everyone to the dining room to eat, including you. The way Bucky's hand was slung protectively around your shoulder didn't go amiss by anyone in the room. It was when he finally sat down did the questions start.

"Alright, what's the deal with you two? Is this a prank? Is he paying you darling?" Sam fired off first, pointing his fork at the two of you opposite him.

Bucky glared at him from calling you 'darling', from where you were sat you could hear the heavy breathing. Your hand slipped into your lap and into his, giving his thigh a firm squeeze to keep calm.

"Y/N is not being paid!" Bucky defended, outraged he could even think such a thing.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of water before speaking, "it's true and I understand it's a shock but Bucky is actually my boyfriend and has been for the past couple of months," you smiled, proud of the fact you were in a relationship with this man and it was no longer secret.

"How the hell did that happen?" Tony queried, waving his chopsticks in the air, flabbergasted by the whole situation.

"What, you think I'm not capable of meeting people?" Bucky challenged, not really enjoying the interrogation which was the whole reason he didn't want to say anything at the beginning.

"Well of course I wouldn't be surprised if it was Capsicle here but it's you," Tony snorted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bucky was yelling and turning red with anger when Nat sought the opportunity to take the heat off the two men.

"So, Y/N. Tell us about yourself."

Tags: @smokeybluebrooke-lyn @pinkdiamond1016

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #bucky x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes one shot #one shot #one shots #bucky barnes request #beefy bucky #beefy!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #modern au #avenger!bucky #bucky fanfics #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fandom #bucky barns fluff #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #bucky barns x y/n

[ynscrazylife]

I was thinking maybe a oneshot where B!D gets poisoned by Cadmus?

Sisterly Instincts 

Summary: Y/N is Kryptonian who landed on Earth a few years after Kara. When CADMUS kidnaps her, they inject her with a poison made out of their version of Kryptonite, which is very harmful to her.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting!

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PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/mundodeseriess

Image ID: Alex and Kara sitting together. Alex has her eyes closed, head on Kara’s shoulder, arm wrapped around her, and is looking upset. Kara is wearing her glasses and is looking down, crying. End ID. 

“Alex, have you heard from Y/N yet today?” Kara asked as she entered the DEO, a slight frown on her face still evident from the morning. 

Alex shook her head no. “Not since last night, why?” She asked, coming down the stairs and joining her sister in her walk. 

Kara shrugged it off. “She just didn’t send me her usual good morning text . . . She’s probably fine, right?” The blonde answered, now feeling silly as she voiced the worry that had been slowly eating at her. 

Alex’s warm chuckle calmed her almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s nothing. We’ll see her soon as she’s coming into the DEO anyway,” she reasoned, assuming their younger sister had just overslept. 

They reached the main room where J’onn and the other DEO agents sat at their desks and immediately the Danvers’ sisters got to work. 

However, when it was ten minutes past the time Y/N was supposed to arrive, Alex decided to give her a call, biting her lip. She discreetly pressed her phone to her ear, turning away so she wouldn’t cause her sister unnecessary worry. 

It ringed. 

And ringed. 

And ringed. 

“Hey! You’ve reached Y/N Danvers. Sorry I couldn’t answer! Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.” Alex cursed quietly when it rang so long it went to voicemail and huffed to clear her mind and steady herself.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Alex. I’m sure you just overslept or are rushing to work,” she said, pausing to chuckle when the image of her younger sister running around the city popped into her mind, “Just give me a call when you get this. Love you, bye!” 

Despite the small worry entering the pit of her stomach, Alex reminded herself that Y/N being late and missing a phone wasn’t too uncommon, and she resumed her work. 

"Alex?” Kara said, and Alex looked up from her computer to see her sister gesturing at the clock with a nod. The brunette looked over, and felt that pit sink lower when she saw that 20 minutes had passed. Getting no message from Y/N, Alex and Kara shared a look, coming to a silent decision. 

“We're gonna go by Y/N’s apartment and check on her,” Alex informed J’onn as she stood up from her chair and grabbed her coat. She couldn't keep herself from remembering that Y/N should be here right now, she didn't live far away. 

Kara nodded, following her older sister, and the two women left the DEO, neither of them discussing their worries in fear of distressing the other one. Great minds do think alike, though, and that’s why they both internally came to the conclusion that if nothing was wrong and they found Y/N sleeping late, they were gonna be pissed (however they hoped that was what they found instead of the scary alternatives brewing and stirring in their minds). 

When they reached Y/N’s apartment, Kara knocked on the door. They waited almost a minute and when the door didn't open and they didn’t hear anything, Alex fished the key Y/N had given to her out of her pocket and unlocked the door. 

Stepping inside, the women were prepared to search the house like they were on a mission, when a paper on the floor, having been slipped under the door, caught their attention. Sharing a look, Kara grabbed the paper and unfolded it. It read: 

“Hello, Supergirl, 

I won’t lie. I don’t know your ‘secret identity’. However, I was able to find out Y/S/N’s, so it’s only a matter of time before I find yours, too. Come to these coordinates: [pretend there’s random coordinates] by 12:00 alone and allow us to experiment and test on you. If you fail to do that, I won’t give Y/N the cure to the Kryptonite poison that’s in her system and I’ll reveal her identity to the world. 

-- CADMUS.” 

For a couple moments, Kara and Alex stood, glued to the spot. Thoughts and emotions washed over their bodies: concern for their sister, anger at CADMUS, and an utter helplessness since they didn’t know what to do. 

It was a little past 10:00 now and when the two got back to the DEO, they made a plan with J’onn. He’d disguise himself as Kara and would do as the letter said and they’d have DEO agents - including Alex and Kara - stationed around the building with cloaking devices, which would make them invisible to CADMUS and their tech. Winn would hack into CADMUS’ tech and after Y/N was given the cure, the DEO agents would act.

At 10:30, the DEO agents were stationed around the base, invisible, and J’onn had walked into the base itself, disguised as Kara. He noticed the Kryptonite around the room, there to weaken Kara, so he put on an act: pretending that it was hurting him. He barley refrained from rushing over to Y/N when he saw the woman who was like a daughter to him siting on a chair, weak and only half-conscious, sweat shining on her face with Lillian Luthor standing beside her. 

“Good, you came,” Lillian said with a sadistic smile. 

“Yes. Now give Y/S/N the cure,” J’onn said, putting on his best Supergirl face. 

The corners of Lillian’s mouth turned into a smirk and she walked over to another chair a few feet away, which had Kryptonite restraints. “Sit,” she said calmly, although the way she stood, her hands delicately placed on the chair, brought power to the lonely word. 

J’onn complied, frowning as he walked over to the chair and sat down, letting Lillian put the restraints on his wrists and ankles that she thought would weaken him. For extra effect, J’onn sucked in a breath and faked pain. 

Lillian smugly turned around and walked back to Y/N, who didn’t seem to realize what was going on. The older woman gestured to one of her minions and they promptly injected a serum into Y/N’s neck, making the youngest Danvers’ gasp just the slightest before her eyes fluttered close. 

“The antidote is taking its affect in her system,” Lillian informed J’onn before turning back to her minion. “Take the girl outside. She can find her way back.” 

The man nodded and picked Y/N up, slinging her over his shoulder and walked out. The second J’onn heard a smash and knew that his team had acted, he gave Lillian no time to be on alert before he ripped off the restraints and knocked all of the CADMUS agents out. 

. . .  . . .  . . . 

Alex and Kara had been standing outside, listening to Lillian and J’onn’s interaction through their earpieces. The women were both racked with worry over their little sister and when they saw the man carrying her, it took everything in them both to wait until he carelessly dropped her on the floor. When he did, Kara revealed herself and knocking him unconscious into a wall. Alex then revealed herself as well, hearing J’onn fighting, and ran to Y/N while the rest of the DEO agents went inside to erase CADMUS’ memory of Y/N’s identity and to make arrests.

“Y/N, Y/N! Come on, wake up,” Alex said, slightly panicked as she gently rolled Y/N from where she was laying on her side to be on her back. Kara, after making sure the guy was unconscious, sped over. 

Kara knitted her brown together and drew her lips into a line, silently gathering her sister into her arms. Alex glanced up at her, tears in her eyes, for she knew Kara was only silent when she was very worried. 

“I’ll meet you back at the DEO,” Kara said quietly, her tone almost emotionless, before lifting off and flying into the air. Alex swallowed and took a breath, getting to her feet.

. . .  . . .  . . .

As she flew through the air, Kara battled to keep distracting thoughts about the clouds and the breeze away, as she knew she had to focus on her unconscious sister. Y/N was the priority. Once she landed at the DEO, she immediately headed to the med bay, where doctors took over and Kara informed him that Y/N had supposedly been given the antidote. 

After almost ten minutes of Kara pacing just outside the door and Winn doing his best to comfort her, the doctors informed them that the antidote was indeed in Y/N’s system and it was fighting off the poison. They didn’t know when she would wake up but when she did, she would need to rest a lot as she’d be weak. They were also unsure if CADMUS had done anything else to her, so she’d need to stay at the DEO overnight if she didn’t wake up soon. 

The doctors allowed Kara to see her so the blonde sat by her sister’s side, holding her hand until Alex burst in, looking out-of-breath. 

“How is she?” Alex asked, sitting on Y/N’s other side and taking her free hand. 

Kara told her what the doctors said and they collectively let out a breath, relieved that she was going to be alright. They stayed with Y/N for another hour, silent except for the occasional comment, when Y/N started blinking her eyes open. 

The agent and the superhero both sat up, patiently waiting for Y/N to wake up and adjust herself.

“Alex? Kara?” Y/N croaked out, looking at her sisters in a haze of confusion. 

Both women smiled and let out happy tears, helping her to sit up before wrapping their arms around her. Y/N smiled, leaning her head against Kara’s neck. 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Alex whispered. 

“It’ll never happen again,” Kara promised. 

Y/N nodded. She didn’t say anything in response, finding herself too tired after the day’s events. Kara and Alex stayed until she fell asleep and then they reluctantly left her under the watchful eye of Winn, since they needed to debrief with J’onn and prepare for when Y/N would come home. 

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[fireflyinsummer]

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.

#bts fics #bts fanfic #BTS suga #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #bts angst #bts smut #fallen angel #fallen angel au #bts reader #bts you #bts fluff #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #park jimin #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #two shot

[drabbles-mc]

On My Hands

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Prompts: 24. Let me go, 28. They don’t need to know, 50. I didn’t know where else to go. Prompts are from This List

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Alright when I opened the word doc to write a fic inspired by This Post I was expecting to write something steamy and like??? Fun??? But I ended up with all this angst instead because this story took on a life of its own. Either way, enjoy some Nestor smut. Love y’all!

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There was a quiet knocking on your door. You glanced down at the time on your phone and your brows furrowed. Nothing good could come of someone showing up on your doorstep so late at night. With a deep sigh you tossed the blanket off of you and to the other end of the couch as you made your way towards the front door. Peaking out from the curtain, you saw Nestor standing on your front step. You sighed—you should’ve known.

You turned the lock and pulled the door open slightly, just enough for you to look out at him. Your lips turned down into a slight frown as you took in the state of him. That was all it took for you to know why he made his way to you.

“It’s late, Nestor,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he sounded exhausted, and it made you want to invite him in so you could take care of him.

But you knew better. Bracing yourself against the doorframe, “What’re you doing here?” you wanted to add that he looked like he belonged in a hospital instead of on your front step, but you refrained.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I don’t think that you’re allowed to be here anymore, Nes.”

“They don’t have to know,” his tone was pleading.

You shook your head slightly, “Like they won’t find out.”

He could see it in your eyes that you were getting ready to shut the door on him. He reached forward and rested his palm against it, providing just enough resistance to get you to look at him, “Please.”

You knew you were kidding yourself thinking that you would actually turn him away. Even if he had shown up on your doorstep completely fine and in good spirits, you would’ve let him in. But something about him showing up tired, defeated, and bloody made all of your resistance fade away instantly. You shouldn’t have been so ready to invite that kind of trouble back into your house, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You opened the door all the way, waving for him to come in. He walked past you and you shut and locked the door behind him before turning to get a better look at him in the light of your home. His face and neck were streaked with blood, knuckles busted open from whatever fight he must’ve gotten into before he came to you. It was apparent in his eyes that he was there to forget about the world outside of you, and you were content to give him that even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“Should I even ask?” you sighed as you thumbed away a small smear of blood from underneath his eye.

He shook his head as he ran his hands up your sides, sliding them underneath the thin fabric of the oversized shirt that was passing for your pajamas. His hands felt rough against your skin and your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked up the sensation of it. You never knew when it was going to be the last time, when he was going to stop coming back for more.

You opened your eyes to see Nestor staring intently at you. Despite the tiredness and defeat that you were sure he was feeling, there was something else present in his features as well. It was the same thing that led him back to you over and over again.

“What am I gonna do with you, Nestor?” your voice was soft, but the way you likely raked your nails along the back of his neck let him know the question wasn’t completely innocent.

He didn’t answer your question as he pulled you close and kissed you. His lips attached themselves to yours and you let it happen, melting against him like you had countless times before. His hands slid all over your body as though he didn’t already have ever curve memorized like the back of his hand. He didn’t take his lips off of yours as he walked you backwards towards your couch, slipping off his shoes as he went.

Muscle memory took over as you pushed his holsters down off his shoulders, hands immediately making their way to the buttons of his shirt. He moaned quietly as he slid his hands along the curve of your ass, squeezing it tight as he pulled you closer to him. You nipped lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled the shirt down off his shoulders and slid it off his arms, letting it fall to the floor. Your fingers traced over his chest, feeling every scratch, scab, and smear of dried blood that decorated his torso along with the ink that had been there for years and would remain long after the blood was washed away.

He pulled the shirt off over your head, tossing it aside before his hands started roaming all over the freshly exposed skin he now had access to. You moaned as his hands continued to graze over your skin, hardly able to concentrate on the task of undoing his belt. Once he felt you undo the buckle, he finished undoing his pants and pushing them to the floor, stepping out of them as you slid your tongue along his bottom lip.

You felt the backs of your legs press flush against the base of your couch and as much as you wanted to give in and let him push you back onto it, you didn’t. You placed one hand on each of his shoulders and maneuvered so he was the one who was falling back onto the couch. It caught him off-guard, and you saw the shift in his breathing as you situated yourself on top of him, straddling him.

You pressed your lips back to his and he wrapped his arms tightly around your middle. You slowly began to grind your hips against him and a small moan escaped him as he moved his lips against yours. One of his hands snaked up and came to rest on the back of your neck, fingertips pressing hard into your skin as you moved against him.

Pulling his lips off of yours, he struggled to catch his breath. The hand on the back of your neck came to rest on your cheek and you placed your hand over it. The blood on his knuckles felt tacky against your fingertips, not having completely dried. You could feel it on the pads of your fingers as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaving a fresh set of smudged red prints on his skin as you leveraged your weight against him.

You felt him lifting his hips up off the couch cushion and you took that moment to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. You lifted your hips off of him when you felt him sliding his boxer-briefs down his legs, your hands immediately dropping to graze along his thighs. The light sensation of your nails against him caused him to shudder and moan, making you smile as you kept your lips locked to his. He gripped tightly onto your hips like you were the only thing that was keeping him grounded.

You carefully wrapped your hand around him and he instantly dropped his head back, letting out a moan. You bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him tremble underneath your touch, listened to the quiet curses that fell from his lips as you slid your hand up and down his length.

He managed to tap back into reality long enough to slide his hands down your hips just enough so that he could tangle his fingers in the sparse fabric of your underwear. It took hardly any effort at all for him to rip them clean off of you, eliciting a yelp from you despite the fact that you knew it was coming.

He leaned in and kissed along your neck, feeling your body go a little lax as he did so. He lifted your hips and positioned himself so that he could slowly slide into you, wanting to feel the way your nails set into his shoulder blades and hear the way your breath shook as he did. You pressed the side of your head against his as you closed your eyes and basked in the way that he felt inside of you.

Your hands rested on either side of his neck, chests pressed flush against each other’s as you began to move against him. His teeth grazed against the sensitive skin where your neck met your shoulder and you whimpered quietly. You pulled back slightly so you could look in his eyes, trailing your fingers down his cheeks despite the fact that you were collecting his blood in the divots of your fingerprints.

He pulled you close so he could kiss you again, his fingers gripping tighter onto your hips and giving him better control of how you moved. He sucked lightly on your bottom lip, letting it go with a slight pop as he lifted you and brought you back down onto him again.

“Fuck, Nestor,” your palms rested flat against his chest as he repeated the motion.

It didn’t take very long for you to come undone—it never did when it was with him. His eyes shut tight and his teeth sank into the soft skin of your shoulder as he felt you contracting around him. One hand cradled the back of his head while the other dug into his shoulder, desperately trying to keep you tethered to him in any way possible.

He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he finished inside you. he clung tightly to you for a minute, waiting for his brain to slow down. When his racing mind finally began to slow, he peeled himself off of you, leaning back against the back of the couch.

His eyes traveled all over you, taking in every detail. He was admiring you, the same way he always did, but there was something more to it this time. You glanced down at yourself and instantly noticed the rusty red patches on your chest, the sweat and close contact having made his stains yours as well. He reached forward, wiping at your neck and you assumed that he was rubbing off the slight traces of blood he’d left behind there, too.

You carefully lifted yourself off of him before leaning and grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. You used it to wipe at your own neck and chest before using it to wipe away the violence of the day that was left on him as well. You tenderly cleaned off his face the best that you could, trying not to focus on the way that he was looking at you. You wiped off the knuckles on each of his hands, letting out a small sigh as you traced the pad of your thumb over them once they were clean. These days you only ever saw him when he was beaten and bloody.

Your hands softly came to rest on either side of his neck, and you tried to ignore the tightness building in your chest, “You gotta stop, Nes.”

His hands ran up and down your sides as he tried to look anywhere but into your eyes, “It’s work, you know how it—”

“No,” you cut him off but your voice was still gentle. You knew that he was going to try and turn this conversation into something that it wasn’t and you couldn’t let that happen, “This,” you motioned back and forth between the two of you, “You gotta stop doing this—showing up here in the middle of the night, all bloody and sad and looking for something to get lost in.”

“But I know you’ll let me in.”

“And that’s fucked up,” you wanted to sound angry but really you were just tired, “I can’t say no to you, Nestor. I’ll always open the door for you, let you in, clean you up, make you forget about whatever you had to do for a little while. I’ll always let your blood be on my hands. And I hate that,” you rested your forehead against his with a defeated sigh.

“You’re the only person that takes me in,” you could feel his breath bristle against your skin as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“But I can’t keep doing it. I can’t keep doing this,” you hated saying it but you knew that you had to—this all should’ve been over a long time ago.

“Please—”

“You need to let me go,” your voice was nothing but a shaky whisper as you forced the words out.

Neither of you said anything more for a few minutes, just sitting there in silence. You could feel it in his body language that he understood what this all meant, and he was trying to soak up whatever time he had left with you. All the minutes he had with you were stolen, what was a few more before he left? You lightly trailed your fingers along the patterns of his braids as he slid his hands up and down your back.

Finally, he shifted so that he could stand up and start getting dressed again. While he was doing that you went and grabbed a clean shirt to wear to bed, opting to throw the one you’d had on in the trash, not wanting to hold onto the memories if you could help it.

You followed him to the door, leaning against it as he stood on your front steps. You’d never seen Nestor look so small. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead. There were a million things that he wanted to say, you could see it in his eyes, but he couldn’t make himself say them. He placed one last tender kiss to your lips before turning and heading back towards his car. He looked back at you once, with a small, sad smile on his face before getting back into his car and driving off. You waited until the taillights were out of sigh before finally forcing yourself to go back inside.

You shut off all the lights as you made your way through the house. Making a stop in your bathroom, you turned the light on and looked in the mirror, making sure that there were no stains left that you could see. You were rewarded with a clean slate, the only things left behind were the dark marks left by Nestor’s lips and teeth. You gingerly traced your fingers over them before turning the hot water on in the sink. Putting soap on your hands, you began to slowly and methodically scrub them underneath the hot water, watching as the last of the blood diluted in the soapy water and swirled down the drain. You let out a deep sigh when the water ran clear once more, having washed away what little you had left to show for all that you’d gone through with Nestor.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #drabblesmc #fanficg

[hwrryscherry]

The one where model Y/N is attacked in Paris.

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N are in Paris for Fashion Week 2020 earlier this year. To celebrate her first time walking for Gucci, Harry decides to take her out for a dinner date when a crazy youtube prankster attacks her while leaving the restaurant and Harry get furious as standing up to defend his girl.

word count: 3.5K

warning: rude and disrespectful attitude, invasion of personal space, violence, anxiety attack quote. DON’T read it if you feel uncomfortable.

author’s note: HIII, I know this took me a while. I was working on it when I got a cold and just couldn’t think of anything to finish writing this, but I’m much better now for god’s sake. I’d like to apologize with whoever requested this for taking such a long time to post it and say a huge thank you or requesting this too! This is completely inspired by what happened to Gigi Hadid in 2016(I guess) and I remember seeing this video and thinking why someone would do that, also, Gigi said once that the guy was lucky Zayn wasn’t with her sooooo I guess I just think Harry would be so furious because even though he’s a very chill guy, his girl safety and well being is the one thing that matters the most to him.

gigi’s video for the ones who didn’t see it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjsPmjqmcvs

       February 27th, 2020

   Today was the first time that you ever walked for Gucci, and it was amazing, you were beyond happy because getting where you are today being a short model and only being 22 years old it's something to be proud of. It hasn't been easy all the time but you were slowly making your way to the top and that's more than enough. And you were highly grateful for Harry either, of course you walked Gucci's show because of your talent and hard working and no one doubted that, but Harry did a important role in your newest contract with Gucci because you met the team because of him and his Gucci obsession. But anyway, the fashion show was amazing, and you had Harry on the crowd cheering for you all the time and God, he was so proud! He couldn’t even handle himself. He was recording everything and even got up when you did the catwalk next to him as he kept taking multiple pictures. If you have to be real, almost 90% of those pictures looked really bad because he wasn't focusing on the phone but he also wanted to register this moment and when you'd look through them later you'd actually laugh because most of them had a very blur image.

    When the fashion show ended, he had to congratulate you backstage. As you were starting to take off your outfit, you listened to your boyfriend's rough voice making you turn around to face him and see the biggest smile on his face, you could clearly see his dimples on the side of his cheek. He walked over to you instantly wrapping his strong arms around your figure hugging you so tight that you were even afraid that he would get the feat of ruining the rest of clothes you still had on.

— You were so great, I'm so pround of you! — Harry said on a low tone next to your ear before breaking the hug and looking carefully to your face. You had this crazy green eyeshadow that were halfway gone by now which caused him to chuckle — I love your eye look, it looks fabulous! — Harry said making you bend over to stare at the mirror behind you only realizing now you haven't finished taking off your makeup yet. You stand straight again giving him a mocking expression as you grabbed the makeup wipe you were using from the makeup table behind both of you.  

— I know, I'm thinking about wearing this everywhere because it's just really fashion! — you ironically said taking a smirk out of him as you turned around sitting on the chair in front of the mirror so you could have a sight of how you're makeup were doing — But thank you, you know I appreciate it!

— I do! And that's why I'll congratulate you by taking you out for dinner tonight! — Harry said walking towards you resting his hands on both of your shoulders squeezing them gently as he bends over giving you a small kiss on your neck.

— Oh, like a dinner date? — You'd ask with a smirk on as you felt goosebumps on your kiss with his little kiss.

— Exactly like a dinner date! And later, we can have our own private celebration! — He'd say with a  smirk on his lips as you finished taking your makeup off — What d' you think? Sounds good? — He asked you and you nodded at him and just some minutes later you both were out stage going back to your hotel in Paris. Harry called Jeff and asked him if he could make a reservation for both of you for tonight around 8 pm and he glady did, so as it was already 6 pm and as you both were probably the one couple in the world who takes the longest to get ready, you'd come back to the hotel and started getting ready already.

    Jeff made an appointment for both of you to go to Le Cinq restaurant which is located near the Eiffel Tower and Arc of Triumph. You absolutely loved Paris at night, for some reason it seemed more magical and interesting to you. The weather, the lights, the fashion and the language that you learned to master well through the years warmed your heart whenever you’d go there. When you were a child, you got used to always hearing your mom tells you:’’whenever you’re in love, go to Paris’’, and for this reason Paris was one of the first places where you and Harry traveled together as couple. Harry didn’t use to travel a lot for by the way. MOst of the time, he used to travel for work, so this changed a lot since you started dating because you love to travel. You’ve always been a free spirit person, the kind of person that goes wherever the winds takes you so with the time Harry became like this too as you started taking him to do the craziest things on the craziest places around the world.

    You felt the car slower it’s velocity as it got closer to the front of the restaurant, and you both could see by the window that the front was packed. As it was Paris Fashion Week, there were a lot of celebrities in the city and usually, fans settled in front of popular places around the city hoping they’d have a chance to meet their favorite celebs and even though you were already used to crowds at this point of your life, they’d still make you a little nervous, especially when it was in places not well known to you like a city you don’t live on.

— You’ll have to guide me because these shoes are really high and I don't want to step on anyone's feet — You said to Harry while putting your phone in the small black Prada bag you carried with you with your head down looking carefully to it because you’ve lost the count of how many times you thought you had put the phone inside your bag and you didn’t.

— It's alright! Hold my hand because there are a lot of people here! — Said Harry bringing his left hand up to your face to put a lock of hair of yours that fell in your face behind your ear and you nodded to him. Harry was really protective over you, and he has been that way since the beginning of your relationship. He’d always put your safety first anytime you’d go out together. When it was his about his concerts, you’d usually discuss about the fact that you want to be in the audience and he wants you to be backstage. It’d taken you a few minutes to convince him that everything was going to be fine, but it would also have days that it didn’t matter how much time you try to convince him he’d beg you to stay backstage so he could be relaxed during the performance. But you were grateful for him being that way, you were grateful that he cared so much about your well being because you know exactly how much some relationships can be destructive and you felt lucky to have someone this good in your life. Of course he wasn’t perfect, neither of you were but who is? He tried his best and that’s what matters the most.

    But anyway, Harry held your hand tightly and opened the car door, immediately feeling the camera’s flashes burning your faces and listening to some fans starting to shout. Harry’s bodyguards got between both of you and the crowd guiding your way to the entrance of the restaurant and you felt the heat from the crowd instantly even though the weather in Paris was only 59°F, it’d feel lot warmer until you entered the place. And that is one special kind of a place, The decoration was perfectly splendid, gorgeous and marvelous if you must say. The touches of gold and light blue mixed with the yellow coloration of lights and the spectacular french food scent brought a cozy and elegant vibe.The restaurant was a little full, nothing out of the common and you observed the many different sizes of tables and the groups of people in it.

    You both were taken to your table that was located next to the windows but wasn’t actually on the windows at it still had people outside and it feels weird to eat with people watching you. Anyway, Harry as the gentleman he is pulled the chair for you as he always did even though you had told him there’s no need for that. You both ordered glasses of your favorite white wine, neither of you were heavy drinkers but as it was a celebration it was much needed. The date happened naturally, just as all the laughing, talking and even gossips. This the casual couple gossip that you two would have, but it happened naturally. None of you ever felt like you had to pretend to be anybody else except yourself around each other.

    During the night, Harry would get lost in your face admiring your features while you’re talking. He would admire the way your eyebrows move when you’d change expressions, the way your eyes would form a very tiny line when you tried to see something that was away from you, he’d admire your smile and the sound of your laugh anytime you’d remember of something funny or he’d tell you something funny and he’d think of how lucky he is to have you, because even though he knows that sometimes he can be a pain in the ass(just as you can too) , you’re very lucky to have one another and to have someone who would make you feel this great and free about who you are. Because who you are is exactly who you need to be. Of course both of you believes that changing and envolving it’s the most important thing to do and sometimes you’d be surprised to see how much you both grew from the beginning of your relationship until today and that would bring smile to your faces. He feels lucky to be able to call you his girl, and god you loved when he’d do it. You loved when he was about to present you to someone and say ‘’This is my girl Y/N’’, it’d cause you to open a big smile because it felt natural. You’re his and he’s yours, period.

    When you both decided it was time to call it a night Harry paid the check against what you wanted because you wanted to pay this time. You’d honestly hate to have people paying for you, and this would usually be a point of discussion between you and Harry. You don't know why but you hate it, and it's just the gentleman in Harry wanting to spoil his girl again and again until he get tired of doing it, but he never does.

   You were about to leave the restaurant when Harry slid his right hand around your waist bringing you closer to him very calmly to kiss your cheek.

— I know you want to say hi to everyone but just walk to the car, alright? — He'd lowly talk next to your ear making you look at him with a serious expression — It's for your safety, love! It's late now, and we don't know who's there. — And he was right, it was past midnight now and there were still some people out there. How can they stand there in this cold weather? But anyway, you agreed with him as you both walked your way to outside. You felt flashes again, blinding flashing lights making you look to the ground as Harry held his hand on the back of your back guiding you to the car.

    As you walked towards the car, you felt a small hand touch your arm and you looked over to see a little girl with probably 12 or 13 years. She pursued tired eyes, and your heart ached with just the thought of keeping walking back to the car because you had no idea of how much time she’s been outside waiting for you so you stopped walking and bend down a little to get close to her height which made Harry stops walking immediately looking a little surprised but he understood when he saw you taking a picture with the little girl and how your face lightens up after it. You asked her what was her name and her age and she answered that her name was Lily and she was 13 she told you that she wants to be a model just like you when she grows older and that melted your heart. You smiled at her and told her that she could do whatever she wanted to and told her that when she grows up and becomes a model, you’d love to walk a show with her. When you’d stand up again you saw Harry looking at you with a small smile on his lips. He couldn’t deny he loves your kindness to every person in the world. It made his heart happy to know that he’s with someone with the same life philosophy than him. So he turned around to open the car door for you when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist lifting you up and you froze.

— What the fu... — You'd shout before starting to hit him on his arms with your elbows as you'd move your legs trying to kick him with your heels. You'd feel flashes on your face and heat on your body increasing. It was the adrenaline and you were furious at this point. — Get...Off...Me — You'd shout as you'd hit his face with your elbows as well, Harry looked over to you and stormed out. He'd swear he'd never been like this in his life, he'd basically run to behind the guy's back and put his arm around his neck, Harry'd give him a punch right in the middle of his back and a slightly kick on the back of his knee to destabilise the guy which put you free by the moment he started to fall. Harry's bodyguard would hold you immediately trying to push you away from the crowd as you looked at Harry pushing the guy away from you.

— What the fuck were you doing? — Harry'd shout right into the man's face and watch as the man started to walk away from the crowd but Harry would go after him. Harry swears to god he couldn't even feel his body at the time. He was completely numb, moved by adrenaline and all he wanted to do was to beat the shit out of that man. — WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? — Harry'd shout walking after him getting no response which just made him angrier. At that time he didn't care about the cameras or whoever was watching him, he couldn't calm down when someone threated his girl safety and personal space. It didn't even need to be you. If he saw anyone threatening a woman's safety, he'd freak out in anger.

   You felt the bodyguards strong hands trying to push you away from the situation because that's what Harry would want him to do. He tried walking you towards the car, but you were reluctantly screaming for Harry because he could get himself hurt if he didn't come back to the car now. The other bodyguard walked after Harry grabbing him by the arm and Harry turned over to look at him with so much anger on his look and you'd swear you never saw him like this but then he did started walking over to you again.

   You finally entered the car and closed the door. You felt in panic. Basically paralyzed, you felt your anxiety attacking and your hands shaking. You could literally hear your heart beating so fast and loud that it scares you.

— Go get him! Follow him to hell. I don't care! Take him to the police office! — You'd listen to Harry talks firmly to his bodyguards as he opened the car's door and entered in it. He took a deep breath and turned his face to look at you. His heart broke at that moment. You were a mess. You couldn't even feel the tears leaving your eyes, but he did see them. He saw your hands shaking and how scared your eyes looked and at that moment all of his anger left his body — Love... — He'd sigh getting closer to you while wrapping his arms around your now-fragile figure. He could feel your entire body shaking on his arms. He caressed your hair with one of his hands as he hugged you tight to calm you down. He'd look to the driver and make a sign for him to start driving back to your hotel — Are ya okay? You're hurt? Did he hurt you? — He'd talk on a calm tone squeezing you a little on his arms. You'd lift your head up to look at him with red wet eyes shaking your head to him.

— I'm sorry! — You'd say lowly. He did tell you to walk straight to the car, and you didn't listen to him.

— It's not your fault, love! — He'd say wiping some of your tears and then carefully kissing both of cheeks — Don't worry about it, everything's gonna be fine, alright? It's okay!

   You'd spent the rest of the ride in silence. A comfortable silence. You'd be laying your head on his shoulder while holding his head getting your breathing and heart back to normal and your phones would start buzzing with notifications of what happened but none of you would see it, not now.

   When you got to your hotel, you'd get out of the car in the garage. You'd both walk slowly to the elevator and slowing to your room. You entered the room going directly to the king sized bed and throwing yourself in it because you felt like getting in a coma and just waking up to a time where all this drama would go away. Harry'd walk towards you and sit in bed beside you. He'd put both of his hands on your shoulders massaging them slowly.

— I'll prepare you a bath, so you can relax a little before sleeping, how's that sound? — He'd say trying to cheer you up a little bit.

— Sounds great, thank you love! — You'd turn your head to look at him with a forced smile on your lips. Harry'd bend down to kiss your hair line before leaving to the bathroom.

   He'd try his best to make you feel the most comfortable to sleep tonight. He'd prepare you a bath. He'd give you a message, he'd brush your hair for you but actually, he loves to do that. He loves to brush your hair before you go to bed, it was more like a routine for you both. He loves to feel your long locks on his fingers and to feel the sweet scent of it. He'd cuddle you until you fall asleep too, he'd even be the big spoon tonight so you could sleep on his chest breathing his perfume because he hoped that'd make you have a good night of sleep.

   And after you did, he'd look on the things on his phone. All the posts about you being attacked in Paris and him beating the guy who did it were just too much and he felt sorry that you'd have to see and read all of those stuff as soon as you unblock your phone. A lot of your friends texted him asking what happened and if you were ok. He'd answer the closest ones only, like his mom and Gemma, your mom, Bella and Jeff. He didn't know what you'll decide about the next fashion shows you had to walk, but he also knows that no one would blame you if you just chose to come back home in NYC.

  Harry didn't sleep at that night at all, he couldn't stop looking for what happened and why it happened. The next day, it was everywhere in the media and later you'd found out that the guy was a youtuber and he was making a prank when he posted his stupid youtube vlog with "I pranked Harry Styles's girlfriend and he punched me" as a title. You'd sue him for sure. You don't like taking those kind of actions, but it was necessary, he had to understand that you cannot disrespect people like this, specially people you don't know.

  After that you'd probably understand why Harry is so protective over you and Harry would actually get ten times more protective, if I had to be honest. But as the time passed by and quarantine came you both would leave it behind and move on with your life because in the end of the day you both will still have one another.

#harry styles and y/n #harry and y/n #hwrryscherry #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry x reader #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

[manikas-whims]

okay your Green Arrow X Kanej AU is amazing. I absolutely love the idea of Inej being the hooded vigilante and Kaz as her hacker partner

but if not fic, can you at least write some headcanons, I'm dying!!! Arrow was my shit back in 2014!

Okay! So here we go..

since I'm writing proper headcanons, I'll change Inej's vigilante name from Green Arrow to "Wraith" and make other plot changes as i feel like..:)

Tagging @kanejweek

under Day 4: Corrupted Ambition

Inspired by this moodboard

Kanej Vigilante AU Headcanons

Part 1 | Next»>

• It all started when 19 yo Inej Ghafa was out on a cruise with her parents after a big success in the business workings of the Ghafa Industries

• On around the 3rd day of cruise, due to a heavy storm, a shipwreck occurs

• Inej gets separated in the chaos and wakes up one morning to find herself ashore an unknown island.

• For days she wanders, having lived a life of luxury and love under the care of her parents, she believes she won't survive long.

Then several days later, when she's on the brink of passing out, a strange man finds her. He takes her to his hideout and offers her potable water (unlike the sea water on the shores) and also some fruits from the island.

At first she's cautious and keeps her distance but slowly comes to trust this man.

• The man trains her in survival skills and to her surprise, even teaches her some combat skills. She doesn't know which one cause she's unfamiliar with martial arts.

Finally the man teaches her using his makeshift weapons. And she finds she really enjoys using knives 🔪 and bow & arrows 🏹

﹏ time skip: 5 years later ﹏

• Inej is praying before the grave of the strange man who is now dead (due to mysterious reasons).

• She sees an airplane passing over the island. She burns a big stack of dead leaves & animal dung.

The plane spots the fire and then helps her get back. Someone on the plane recognizes her as the young heiress to the Ghafa Industries.

• Turns out she is the only one who was lucky enough to survive. There were no bodies discovered of her parents after the shipwreck.

• She is sent back to her home to live with her immediate aunt (from her father's side) and it takes her a few weeks to adjust.

• Meanwhile the news about her return is all over media. But her aunt protects her from any interviews.

• A Return Party is held for her where she reunites with her college bestfriend Nina Zenik.

• There's lots of hugs and crying and catching up to do. Nina has become well-known Fashion Designer.

• Ghafa Industries is currently being run by her father's former business partner Per Haskell.

Haskell doesn't hand over any authority to her as he believes a girl who'd been assumed dead for 5 years, isn't in the right state of mind to run a company.

But Inej doesn't trust Haskell at all. In fact, the more she encounters him, the more she begins to think the whole shipwreck was a planned thing to eradicate her family and gain ownership of Ghafa Industries.

• She decides to snoop around a bit into her parents' mansion and also at Haskell's home. And with the skills she's acquired under training from that man from the island, its pretty easy for her to scale walls and disappear like a ghost.

• She finds an old diary with her father's initials on it and takes it back home.

• The entire diary is full of a long list of names of people from other famous corporations. And she has no idea what this means.

• So left at a dead end and kinda bummed, she has no idea where to look or what should be her next step.

Thats when Nina Zenik pops up!

• Nina drops by at night and after some drinks and a batch of waffles, Inej ends up telling her (only vaguely) that she needs help figuring out some information because she doesn't trust Haskell.

• Nina nods and begins ranting about how shady Haskell seems.

Then Nina looks around as if to check no one is listening, and whispers, "You should totally see Dirtyhands."

"Who's Dirtyhands?" Inej is confused.

"He's a well-known hacker, a thief of secrets! I took his help a year ago to spy on my ex. That's how I discovered she was cheating!"

Inej rolls her eyes. "Are you sure this guy can actually help me?"

"There's no harm trying." Nina shrugs and picks up her phone.

Inej's phone buzzes the message tone as Nina sends her a name and address.

Inej eyes widen a little. "You can't be serious."

"I am." Nina winks. "He just likes to keep a low-profile by working at company's with a good reputation."

﹏ next morning ﹏

• Inej is still unsure because the details Nina had sent her last night belonged to an employee of the Ghafa Industries itself.

• She takes a breath and walks into the building that her parents had worked hard on from scratch.

• The receptionist immediately recognizes her and says, "Let me call your Uncle Mr. Haskell-"

"No need to disturb him." Inej says hurriedly and instead asks about the person Nina had sent her to see.

• With the details, Inej steps into the lift and stops on the 6th Floor: IT Section

• She searches around a bit and finally finds his room.

• She walks in and a guy clad in a casual black button-up and pants instantly turns around at the noise.

• "Umm..Kaz Brekker?" Inej begins. "I'm—"

"Inej Ghafa." the guy says curtly, his voice a brush of stone against stone. "That rich girl who has come back from the dead. Everyone knows who you are!"

Inej nods tensely. "Okay I need your help."

"Did Haskell send you here?"

"No, I don't need permission from Uncle Haskell to see anyone from my parents company!" she answers in frustration.

"In that case, there should'nt be any issues if I just call up your Uncle and ask him before helping y—"

"Dirtyhands!" she yells quickly and now he tenses.

His calm demeanor changes and he narrows his eyes on her. "How do you know that alias?"

"I have my sources." She answers as coolly as she can.

• Kaz Brekker looks around in thought for a moment. "Okay I'll help you but what do I get in return?"

"Anything within my reach." She says in annoyance.

"Anything?" He asks with raised brows, mischief glimmering in his coffee brown eyes.

Inej feels as if she's getting pulled into some kind of trap but agrees with a nod in the end.

"The deal is the deal." He says, bringing out his palm to her. They shake hands.

• Inej pulls out her father's diary from her jacket and gives him the first name from the long list. "Look up this guy and find everything on him. Even the darkest details."

Kaz gives her a suspicious look. "You're upto something bad."

"Just do as I say, we made a deal!"

He sighs but begins searching up, glancing occasionally at the door to make sure no one else walks in.

• Within two minutes he's done.

"Your guy is loaded like you." He comments, then adds in a quite voice. "He's also involved in illegal sales of weapons around the city."

• Inej just nods. "Thank you. What do you want in return?"

Kaz leans back in his chair and shrugs. "I'll think about it and tell you."

She nods again and motions to leave.

"What if I disclose our conversation to someone?" He asks just as she's at the door.

She turns, her grin threatening. "Then I'll just disclose the famous hacker Dirtyhands' identity."

His lips curve down in silent defeat. She leaves.

*thats all for now! Since it was getting too long. Let me know anon if you want a continuation of how Inej's first task as the vigilante Wraith ensues..And how Kaz gets tangled in it 😉

SoC Masterlist

#kanej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej week 2021 #vigilante au #six of crows #kanej headcanon #soc headcanon #kanej au #soc au #kanej aesthetic #kanej moodboard

[imagineteamfreewill]

Here’s to Witches

Title: Here’s to Witches

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1,331

Warnings: None

Summary: Sam and the reader are each gifted something after saving a group of housewives on a hunt, and Sam’s gift is exponentially more... enthusiastic than the reader’s.

A/N: This is completely unedited, so please excuse any mistakes. If you see any glaring ones, please feel free to (politely) send me an ask or a message so I can go in and fix it. The gifs that inspired this fic can be found at the end because I thought they were too cute to not include. Also, feedback makes the world go round and makes my blog a lot more enjoyable for everyone! Please reblog this fic with your thoughts or send me an ask or a message to tell me what you think. Enjoy!

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“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this happy,” you said as you leaned against the dresser. The knobs dug into the small of your back and your shoulders but you ignored them as Sam looked up at you with a wide smile.

“I just can’t believe this is real,” he replied.

Bones jumped up on his hind legs, pushing himself slightly off the floor as he tried to regain Sam’s full attention. He succeeded and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way Sam raised the pitch of his voice to talk to his new—or rather, old—furry friend.

“You know, when the witch said she’d brought back someone dear to your heart, I figured we’d come back to the motel to find Bobby or something.”

Sam glanced up at you again, his smile undimmed. “I didn’t think it would be Bones either, but honestly…”

Smiling, you moved away from the dresser to see if your phone had regained some battery. It had died on the way back from the abandoned winery where the coven had been holding its meetings. Thankfully, you hadn’t needed it to call for help. The coven was more domestic than anything you’d ever encountered on a hunt; the witches mostly used their magic to bring dead houseplants back to life, get the smell out of laundry they’d forgotten in the washer, and thaw meat that they’d taken out of the freezer an hour or two too late. You’d been in the midst of trying to figure out how to ask them to stick with what they knew when the real troublemakers had shown up, figurative guns blazing, in an attempt to harm the housewives who were in almost too deep. 

You and Sam had eradicated the bad witches with relative ease and the handful of women had been so grateful to you that they’d put their collective energies together to give you each a gift. They’d given you something you’d thought long gone—a box of photos from your childhood—and they’d promised Sam something “dear to his heart”. 

After unlocking your phone, you quietly placed an order for a few pizzas, knowing that Sam was probably starving after the busy day you’d had. You were about to press the submit button when something bumped against your leg.

“I think he likes you,” Sam said, and you looked down to find Bones sitting at your feet. He was giving you a heart-warming doggy smile and his tail was going a mile a minute. It was almost comical how hard he was trying to sit despite the fact that his butt was wiggling right along with his tail.

You chuckled and crouched down to run your hand over Bones’ back. “Hey buddy! Are you hungry too? Is that why you came over here?” you cooed. Your voice jumped up an octave, just like Sam’s had, but Bones responded quickly and was up in your face as he tried to get as much of your attention and touch as possible.

Sam laughed too, standing up and stretching his arms above his head while he watched. He was clearly enjoying having Bones around and in the back of your mind, you sent up a silent prayer that this wasn’t a temporary thing. If Bones was ripped away from him, it would be a heartbreaking loss. Sam had already suffered so much and you wanted to ensure as much as you could that when he wasn’t on a hunt, he was happy and comfortable.

“You want some pepperoni, Bones? Huh?”

The dog yipped in response and you grinned, then stood. You quickly placed the order on your phone while Bones tried to get more attention from Sam. 

“Pizza should be here in about an hour,” you said, and Sam nodded. “So what do we do now? Think Dean’ll be okay with Bones being at the bunker? And in the Impala, for that matter?”

Sam shrugged. Bones was standing on the bed now so that Sam could pet him without having to sit down or bend over.

“Okay, well maybe we should pick up supplies before we get back,” you suggested. “That way, Dean can’t say it would be easy to get rid of him. And we should probably make an appointment with the vet in town, too…”

You pulled out your phone again, but as you were starting to research the veterinarian offices in Lebanon, you felt Sam’s eyes on you. Slowly, you glanced up from your phone and met his gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sam answered, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m just happy.”

“Okay… Weirdo.” You went back to the website. After another minute or two, you still felt Sam’s eyes on you and you sighed, dropping your hand down to your side so you could fully look at him. “What? Why are you staring at me, Sam?” The question came out with a laugh and Sam’s smile widened.

“I don’t know. I’m just… happy. I’m happy that you’re okay with this,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You love him and I think having a dog would be great.”

"Well I knew you liked dogs, but the last time we talked about getting one, you said that you didn’t think it would be a great idea. What changed?”

Shrugging, you tucked your phone in your pocket and went over to them, making sure to start petting Bones immediately so you wouldn’t get licked in the face again. You pointedly avoided making eye contact with Sam, instead focusing on the retriever who was practically vibrating with happiness at all the attention he was getting from the two of you.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you answered. “I guess it’s because I don’t want you to have to give him up, you know? I like to see you happy, and Bones makes you happy. He makes me happy, too,” you added, knowing that Sam would call you out on it if you didn’t.

Sam hummed in response, and the two of you continued to pet Bones in silence, only occasionally laughing or talking to the dog when it felt right. 

An hour later, you were setting up the pizza while Sam took Bones outside for a break. The dog had come with his own collar—thank you, witches!—but he’d had to find a rope in the trunk of the Impala to use as a leash.

“It smells good!” Sam said as he opened the door and stepped inside. You glanced over at him with a smile, then laughed when you saw Bones pulling at the makeshift leash to get nearer to the table. When Sam dropped it, he made a beeline for the pizzas and you had to quickly shove him back down onto all four legs so that your dinner didn’t come with a side of dog hair.

“Whoa, buddy! Easy, calm down! You’ll get your dinner soon enough!”

Sam was grinning from ear to ear and you grinned back, feeling the contagious joy bubble up inside of you.

“Pepperoni?” he asked, and you nodded, grabbing the little container full of slices they’d included and holding it out for him. Bones tracked the movement intently and you laughed again as Sam grabbed it and pulled off the lid.

Instantly, Bones was sitting down, his tail wagging as he stared up at Sam.

“Well, at least he knows to sit,” you laughed. Sam laughed too, and soon the three of you were chowing down on your respective dinners.

We’re like a little family, you thought as you settled down beside Sam against the headboard. You’d both torn the top of the pizza boxes off so that the box was easier to hold in your lap, and he’d turned on a mindless movie while you’d made sure Bones had water. 

“Here’s to happy endings,” Sam said, holding out his beer.

You clinked yours against it with a smile, then a quiet chuckle. “And here’s to witches, which is something I’d never thought I’d say!”

(Gifs are by @frodo-sam​ can be found here. I couldn’t find them in the tumblr gif search or I would have included them that way, sorry!)

_______________

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Want to be tagged? Send me an ask! Tag lists include:

Forever, Sam, Dean, Cas, Deaf!Reader, Words Series (Multiple Pairings/Characters), Home Series (Reader x Marine!Sam) - Unposted, From The Dead Series (Reader x Soldier!Dean), Consort Series (Goddess!Reader x Dean), Sam x Meg 2.0, Blog/Series Updates, and Drabble Days/Writing Events

@lipstickandwhiskey @riversong-sam @shaelyn102 @gabrielslittleangel @supermoonpanda @feelmyroarrrr @crispychrissy @shamelesslydean @supernatur-gal @gloriousartisanfancreator @smallriderbigdreams @sandlee44 @megasimpleplan4ever @ellie-andthemachine @dustycelt @rainflowermoon @katymacsupernatural @ultimatecin73 @musiclovinchic93 @mannls @thegrungequeer @fiftyshadesoffandoms6783 @choosemyname @mishascupcake @emmaa_maariee @mlovesstories @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @gypsytraveler86 @lucifersbird @sev3nruby @flirtswithdanger @whimsicalrobots @kazkingdom @a-screaming-ghost @5seconds-of-fandoms @supernatural-harrypotter7 @teaand-cookies @supernatural-crazed-girl @alexwinchester23 @supernatural3002 @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @lizzielu252 @babypink224221 @just-another-busyfangirl @idksupernatural@courtney-elizabeth-winchester @fuckmemgc @deansgirl215 @assassinofmasyaf @vallucky-gal @reginaphalange2403 @musicalsarelove @thorins-queen-of-erebor @animiliabby @somestupidgeek @basilbumble @swirlyoreo @jae-sch @alliegc28 @meangirlsx @fluffybeebutts @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @oneshoeshort @ten-lane @supernaturalharry @witch-of-letters @itssierramcquade @train-wrecc

#sam #sam winchester #reader x sam #sam x reader #reader x sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam fic #sam fanfic #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #imagineteamfreewill #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #jellyfish fic

[hyuniebaby]

Summer Love

Pairings: Chanyeol x Y/N

Song reference/inspiration: August by Taylor Swift

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

A/N: So I've been listening to Taylor Swift a lot these days and I literally just found out about The Teenage Love Triangle thing in her Folklore album. It gave me inspiration to write this. 😄 It's been a while since I wrote for EXO so here's my first EXO fanfic for 2021! I hope I did Taylor Swift's song justice. Please let me know your thoughts~

You could hear the loud music playing at the club from a block away. You really didn’t plan on going out at all, too tired from your shift at the yogurt shop that you worked part time at. But your friends were insistent.

“God, I need a break,” you messaged your friends, ranting about how work was tiring. If there was one thing you learned about your work, it was that people come flooding in at the shop for frozen yogurt every summer. You couldn’t blame them for it, of course. The heat was unbearable, people would buy anything cold to beat the heat.

“Then let’s go to the club tonight!” Krystal messaged back.

You groaned. You should’ve expected she was going to say that. But the “break” you meant was more of “needing more time to rest” than a “I need a fucking drink.”

You were about to explain to her that you weren’t in the mood to drink but the rest of your friends had already agreed with her. You closed the group chat and massaged your head.

You knew your friends like the back of your hand so you expected them to give you reasons why you should go clubbing with them. Hell, they would probably even make a powerpoint presentation to convince you. And you have to ready yourself for that level of extra, hence, the head massage.

But your friends knew you the same way you knew them so when you didn’t reply after two minutes, they came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to go. You were, after all, the person who always replied instantly — whenever, wherever. Even at work, that’s why they have your schedule so they can avoid messaging you during your shifts.  

By the third minute of silence, yes, you counted , a series of messages flooded your phone. As expected, their messages were reasons why you should go to the club with them. One, it was summer so there’s no school work to catch up on. Two, you don’t have work the next day so there’s no need to worry about getting a hangover. Three, alcohol, that’s enough explanation.

You snorted at that.

They listed plenty more reasons but the one that convinced you was that you haven’t seen them in a while since summer break started. So without reading more of their reasons, you replied with a simple, “Ugh, fine.”

When you entered the club, you immediately scanned the area to look for your group of friends. But instead of finding them, your breath hitched as your eyes locked with someone else. He was tall and gorgeous. And hot. Yeah, definitely hot. You shamelessly ogle at his form. From his silver locks to the chain necklaces he was adorned with to the thin white sleeveless shirt he was wearing that was tucked in his denim pants. It was like he wasn’t even trying with his style yet he looked tempting.

And if there’s one known fact about you, it was that you lacked self control.

If you knew you’d find a guy like him that night, you would’ve worn the short black dress you owned or your favorite red satin dress, instead of the gold mini dress you were wearing.

There was nothing really wrong about the dress you’re wearing. It fits you like a glove and it shows a generous amount of skin, but it screams sophistication and elegance. Something that was the opposite of you, but you liked to play pretend sometimes.

But still, red and black were the sexiest colors. Both sexually alluring — arousing, even. And those were what you needed him to see, to feel.

By the time you had shifted your eyes to look back up his handsome face, you saw that his eyes were still traveling over your body.

Okay, maybe gold was fine.

Before anything else could happen, however, Krystal, Lia, and Rose had tackled you in a hug. You wanted to roll your eyes at them. Talk about perfect timing. They started chattering off about how they missed you, oblivious to your encounter with the man.

Before they could whisk you off to the table they claimed, you stole another glance at the hot stranger. His eyes were still on you and you couldn’t stop the small smirk that crept into your face.

Your friends shared stories about what happened to them since summer break started, meanwhile you ranted about your work and how hectic it had been. As the conversation continued, alcohol came and went. Overall, it was fun hanging out with your over-the-top friends.

Every now and then you look at the hot stranger. You were tempted to just get up and go directly to him and just kiss him but not now when he was finally graced with the presence of his friend. Not now when your friends were still there with you.

Not yet.

When your friends got borderline drunk, they stood up and went to the dance floor. You knew then that they weren’t going to come back.

They were always like that when they got a hold of the liquid courage. By the time they’d dance off, they would find a man to spend the night with and not bother to say goodbye. And then the next thing you’ll know, they’ll be updating you on the group chat about how their night went. That’s what always happens every time you all go out clubbing so you were quite used to it.

You waved them off as they made their way to the dance floor. You downed another drink and found yourself looking over at the location of the hot stranger once again.

You watched as his friend got up and left him when he saw your friends heading to the dance floor. He’s probably interested in one of them. Or all of them. You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

Despite the distance, you could almost hear the sigh of relief your hot stranger released. Yes, you claimed him already. When he lost sight of his friend on the crowded dance floor, he immediately snapped his head to your direction. You smirked as he did so.

You made your way towards him. You could tell he was entranced with your body. The lust was written all over his face.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted as you sat beside him. Your dress had hitched up and you didn’t bother adjusting it. Why would you when he was eyeing your legs like that? Like he’s one breath away to opening them up.

Once he’s gotten his fill on the sight of your legs, his eyes once again traveled the entirety of your body before settling his eyes on your face.

If only it wasn’t indecent to take him then and there, ugh.

“Chanyeol,” he introduced himself as he placed a kiss on your hand.

You hummed and told him your name, “So Chanyeol, I noticed you looked a little bit bored a while ago,” then you leaned in and whispered to his ear, “don’t you want to do something fun?”

He tilted his head so that his lips touched your neck when he talked and then placed his hand on your thigh, “My place is just around the corner,” was his answer.

He gave your leg a little squeeze before offering his hand to help you stand up.

The next thing you knew, he was fervently kissing you after he shut the door to his room. He tasted like cigarettes but also something sweet that you just can’t name. But the taste doesn’t really matter to you, what matters was how he was using his lips. And, god, was he good at using his lips.

His hands wandered around your body while yours trailed over his toned chest and abs. He grabbed your butt and slammed you to the door, bringing his erection closer to your pussy.

You instinctively rubbed against him, moaning at the much needed friction. He brought his lips to your neck and nibbled your sensitive skin.

Then he slipped his hand under your skirt, feeling your damp panties.

“Please Chanyeol,” you moaned.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Are you sure?”

You huffed but said, “Never have I ever been so sure.”

He moved your panties to the side and slid a finger in you. “You’re so wet, babe,” he said as he pumped his finger in and out of you.

“Chanyeol, hng, more.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He added another finger while you cursed at how good it felt. He was leaving kisses all over your neck, you were pretty sure you’d be painted with reds and purples by the end of the night.

You were in a daze but you weren’t just going to let him do all the work. Your hands quickly went on to undo his belt and his pants. You freed his hard shaft from the offensive garment and gave it a few strokes. Then you spit on your palm and finally gave the attention his cock deserved.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he mewled.

You went back to kissing him after his statement. It was like there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you — both of you wanted to get on the bed — so he carried you there, never once pulling away from the kiss.

As your bum touches his mattress, he immediately strips himself of his clothes while you shimmied out of your dress.

You were able to remove only your dress when he locked his lips with you once again. He laid you down on the bed, his left hand groping your breast.

When he pulled back, he took his time in scanning your body. You bit your lip to prevent a whine from the sudden lack of contact.

“You’re so sexy, babe. I want to fuck you so badly.”

“Then do it, Chanyeol.” You looked up at him.

The sight was something to behold. Chanyeol on top of you, naked — his skin glistening with sweat, and the light makes him look perfect. His muscles were flexing as he breathed. The sight increased your arousal by tenfold.

You rubbed your cunt to his shaft to grab his attention since he was back to ogling your body. The action snapped him out of his trance and he quickly unhooked your bra and removed your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He took your right nipple in his mouth and sucked while he squeezed your left boob. On reflex, you arched your back as he gave attention to your breasts. He shifted between your two mounds. You moaned in delight from the sensation.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he abruptly inserted two fingers to your core. You cried at the sudden intrusion. He expertly fingered you. You closed your eyes and relished on the way he was making you feel.

You felt him shift but he didn’t stop the onslaught to your cunt so you paid no attention to this. You released a whimper when all of a sudden he slipped his fingers out of you. You peeked at him, ready to scold him because he pulled out just when you were about to cum. But what greeted you was the view of Chanyeol putting on a condom.

“Sorry babe, I couldn’t wait anymore. I need to be inside you,” he said, not a hint of regret in his tone.

You gulped as you saw his big, veiny cock. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he promised.

Then he shoved his dick to your pussy. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You grit your teeth, he was big and you felt so full. He waited a while for you to adjust to his size when he bottomed out.

“Fuck me, Chanyeol,” you begged.

The moment the words slipped out of your mouth, he obliged and pounded into you. His thrusts were so powerful that you couldn’t help but moan and gasp. He shifted a little, the position let him adjust his pace to a much faster one.

Lewd, sinful noises came out of your mouth as he fucked you hard, fulfilling his promise. “Who’s making you feel this good?” He asked cockily.

“Y-you are,” you stuttered.

“Say my name.”

“Cha-Chanyeol. Fuck. You make m-me feel so g-good Chanyeol.”

He was driving you to your climax so fast from his ministrations. You were clenching on his cock the closer you got to your release. His hand found its way to your clit and he rubbed it.

You spasmed as you reached your high. Chanyeol was quick to follow after a few harsh thrusts. After he came, he stood up to throw the used condom and grabbed a wet towel to clean you up. He was so gentle at doing it and you found yourself closing your eyes at how relaxing it was. The tiredness from work and the sex caught up with you. You didn’t even intend to sleep yet, but when you closed your eyes, nothing stopped you from falling asleep.

Chanyeol was nice enough not to kick you out after the sexual encounter. You thank the gods above that you woke up before Chanyeol did, because you knew it would be too awkward if he woke up before you. This was supposed to be a one night stand after all.

You slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake Chanyeol from his slumber. You quickly put on your clothes, well, as fast as your aching body could anyway. You tiptoed out of his room and left.

There wasn’t any need to write a note for him or whatever. Sure, the sex was good, amazing even, but you know nothing about him aside from his name and address. He could be a completely different person when he’s sober, you’ll never really know.

But fate had other plans for the two of you.

It was a week after that event that you saw Chanyeol again. You were driving home, taking in the view of the city. He was walking slowly, seemingly lost in thought, under the streetlights two blocks away from the yogurt shop you worked at.

You debated on whether or not to call him. He looked quite distant and lonely. If you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t have thought that it was Chanyeol.

This Chanyeol looked the opposite of the Chanyeol you met at the club. There wasn’t any trace of cockiness. Even the smile you saw that he easily gave away to his friend was gone.

As if your body has a mind of its own, you found yourself pulling up and rolling down the window, “Chanyeol!”

He whipped his head to look at you, shocked. It kind of seemed like he saw a ghost. You chuckled.

“Get in, let’s drive!”

Normally, you wouldn’t be doing this. Chanyeol was a stranger after all, but oddly, he did feel familiar.

He looked reluctant but eventually he gave in. The car ride was quiet. You didn’t mind though, you like the silence so you didn’t attempt to break it.

Initially, you didn’t have any destination in mind, you were just driving aimlessly. You thought you were making random turns but then you realized you were going to the quieter parts of the city and into the location you’d always go to when you were feeling blue. It was fitting, Chanyeol did look like a darker shade of blue after all and no, you weren’t talking about his physical appearance.

You stopped your car by the cliff overlooking the city. There, everything looked small and less overwhelming. When you were there, it always made you feel like your problems were trivial things and it calmed you down.

You stepped out of the car, sat on the hood and watched as the sun set. The sun was giving the busy city a golden glow.

After a few minutes, Chanyeol got out of the car as well and sat beside you, taking in the view of the city. For the first time since you picked him up, a genuine smile had made its way into his face.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, never taking his sight away from the beautiful view.

You looked over at him, his features looked like he was relaxed. His blue faded and changed into a warm yellow. He looked better like that.

“Yeah, no problem.”

The both of you stayed there until the sky had turned black and it was the city lights’ turn to shine.

“Come on, Chanyeol, let’s head back.”

“Right.”

You were a block away from Chanyeol’s flat when he spoke up again. “Sorry I took up your time.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t have anything to do anyway,” you said nonchalantly.

By the time you reached his place, you turned to him, “So—”

You didn’t even get to finish whatever you were about to say when he cupped your face and kissed you. You were surprised but you kissed back anyway. And just like the first time you met him, you ended up tangled in his sheets, begging him to fuck you.

The third time you met him it was probably the hottest day of summer. You were in the mall to cool down. You’d rather be there than use the air conditioner in your room and take extra shifts to pay for the electricity.

You were wandering inside the mall, just looking through different shops and avoiding any crowded area in general.

“What are you doing?”

You got startled at the sudden sound.

“Chanyeol? What the fuck, I almost dropped this mug because of you!” You exclaimed.

He chuckled, “Sorry. It’s just that I noticed you looked a little bored.”

Oh, so he was using your lines now. You raised your brow and crossed your arms, waiting for what he’s going to say next. But the action only emphasized your breasts and of course Chanyeol just had to look.

“Don’t you want to do something fun?”

You smirked, “Only if it doesn’t involve sweating.”

“I can work with that.”

And work with that he did. You ended up being bent over under the shower as he fucked you relentlessly.

The only difference with this encounter from the rest was the piece of paper you found in the pocket of your shorts. Scribbled there was his number and a simple “Thank you.”

You didn’t even hesitate to message him as soon as you found it. He replied in an instant and surprisingly, he was pretty decent to talk with. You don’t talk about the nights of passion, but you do talk about yourselves.

For the first time since you met him, he was shedding his layers, and this time, these layers weren’t his clothes.

The next time you met up, it was intentional. One day he called, “Meet me behind the mall.” He didn’t have to ask twice, you’d go regardless.

By the time he arrived, he was riding a motorcycle. He shook his head as he removed his helmet. Then he ruffled his silver hair.

God, he was attractive.

“Hop in, babe,” he said as he hands you another helmet.

You grinned. It was your first time to ride a motorcycle and you couldn’t stop your excitement from showing.

He drove to an abandoned parking lot and for a moment you were confused. “What are we doing here?”

“Don’t you want to do something fun?” He smirked.

Your eyes widened. You definitely didn’t want to do that here.

He only laughed at your reaction. “I’m kidding! I mean, technically, I’m not.”

Your brows had furrowed. “Huh?”

“I’ll teach you how to ride this baby,” he said as he patted his motorcycle, “It’ll be fun.”

You squealed. “Really?”

He rolled his eyes but he had a faint smile, “Yeah.”

Chanyeol was a great teacher, but you liked to tease him so you purposely acted like you couldn’t understand him. You could tell his patience was wearing thin after two hours of him teaching you to no fruition.

“Okay, okay, let me try. Like, alone now,” you said.

He frowned, obviously unimpressed with your statement. Of course, he’d react that way, it was his baby, you just might crash it.

“I promise I’ll do my best,” you pleaded.

“Fine,” he reluctantly said.

“Thank you!”

You grinned at him as you got ready while he only pouted. But the pout had been replaced with a look of surprise when you finally rode and drove his bike.

And by the end of the day, his motorcycle wasn’t the only thing you got to ride.

The next few times you met up, you always ended up beneath him. But there were also days when he’d take you out — to a diner that was barely visited by people, to an arcade somewhere downtown, to the cliff overlooking the city.

Dates with Chanyeol were fun and weren’t overwhelming at all. He never brought you to places with too many crowds. It was intimate, the moments were shared between only the two of you.

It got to a point where you basically spent everyday with him. You would even cancel plans with your friends, just waiting for his call. Before you knew it, you were falling for him.

What sealed your feelings was the time he brought you to their beach house where you both spent the day swimming and chasing each other around.

“I want you,” he said as the night came.

Wanting was enough for you.

By the time you were both panting after the sexual activity, he turned his back to you and looked out the window, his facial expression as calm as the sea. You thought you had him then. You thought he was yours and you were his.

That is until you saw him at a record shop. You were there first, scanning through sections, looking for the 5 Seconds of Summer CD you wanted to purchase for so long. You paid no attention to your surroundings, too busy with your task.

And then you heard Chanyeol’s name being mentioned by a guy. Curiously, you hid behind a shelf and peeked. Chanyeol was there and you unconsciously smiled at the sight of him.

“Chanyeol, dude, be honest, are you seeing Y/N?”

Chanyeol looked confused. “Who’s Y/N?”

Your heart dropped at his answer.

“Don’t act so clueless.”

“I don’t know any Y/N.” He looked genuinely at a loss.

“Inez told me she saw you and Y/N at the arcade a couple of weeks ago. Did you even break up with your girlfriend?”

Your vision was already blurry when he said he didn’t know you but you tensed up at his friend’s question.

Chanyeol has a girlfriend?

You didn’t bother staying there to listen in to their conversation anymore. Your tears had already started falling so you quickly rushed out of the shop, keeping your head down low.

There were a lot of thoughts running through your mind.

“Chanyeol didn’t know my name… Is that why he only called me babe or kitten?”

“Chanyeol has a girlfriend and he cheated on her with me.”

“Was his girlfriend the reason why he only brought you out to secluded areas? Meeting only behind the mall? Driving to the quieter parts of the city to hang out?”

You were so frustrated at him and at yourself. You let him charm you. You let him worm his way into your heart. You let him make you fall in love.

So much for summer love.

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