#Now that I think about it was it an impulse purchase to drown out my sorrows

[menina-das-flores]

Gray eyes.

summary: when sirius won’t stop tormenting you, you take revenge, but doesn’t exactly end as expected. 

sirius black x reader 

this is the first time i'm writing for tumblr so pls be nice to me!! also, english is not my first language so sorry in advance. enjoy!! :)

I had just left the transfiguration class and was starving, so I made my way to the great hall and sat down at my house table. That was one of those days when the mess reigned, and I couldn't blame anyone but the marauders, don't get me wrong I don't hate them, I just deeply dislike most of them, (Peter, there will always be room for you at my table if you decide to leave these idiots.) but specifically I dislike the boy with dark black hair and deep grey eyes who looks like he's going to eat you alive at any second the most, that being Sirius Black, one of Professor Minnie's darlings. Also, speaking of the devil.

— Look who the cat brought! Or should I say kitty? — Being an animagus has never been so humiliating before...

— Fuck off, Black. — I rolled my eyes and went back to savoring my food while trying to read my DADA book, which obviously wouldn't work because Mr. Black had other plans.

— I'll sit here, of course, if you don't mind. — he grinned slyly and sat down next to me before I could even complain. He slung his arm around my shoulder and started jabbering something about how cats are overrated.

— You talk too much.

— Then shut me up.

Silence.

Now I understood what a "screaming silence" was.

I turned slowly towards him, who was starting to blush. I smiled wickedly, this was a great opportunity to tease him for the rest of the year, and finally do what I'd wanted to do since fourth grade.

— You really want to kiss me, uh? — he opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out. I smiled and slowly approached his mouth, watching him pull back as he tried to think straight. I sealed our lips in a quick peck.

— I... I thought you didn't liked me? — he looked so confused that I had to hold back my laughter.

— Why do you have to talk so much? — I picked up my books and stood up, seeing the people around us looking at us, I lowered my gaze and covered my mouth as I laughed.

— Is this some kind of joke? God, you're playing me, aren't you?

— Maybe... maybe not, who knows?

I smiled sheepishly and started walking towards the herbology class, but the only thing on my mind was him, how soft his lips were, what it would be like to run my hand through his hair, what it would really be like to kiss him. At this point it was obvious and it was all over my face, I was in love with Sirius Black... the idiot with dark black hair and grey eyes so deep they made me feel like I was drowning. And to be honest, I kind of liked the feeling.

A few days passed and I avoided him as much as I could, hoping he wouldn't notice. The annual slytherin party on the winter solstice was coming up, and I needed a new dress considering that they always throw the best parties, (thank you cool rich guys who plan parties with their parents' fortune, and thank you other slytherins for convincing them to do it.) I was waiting for Pandora in front of the Leaky Cauldron as usual, so I decided to go into an antique dress store and take a look at the options.

(...)

It was the one, I needed this dress, it was decided as soon as I saw it, it was a blue and black dress with blue crystals, maybe lapis lazuli or quartz, it had gold details and it was definitely the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. Pandora arrived a few minutes after my impulsive purchase and smiled broadly when she saw the dress on my body.

— You look perfect, Angel... Definitely the most beautiful girl at the solstice party. Believe me, no one will take their eyes off you, not even Sirius.

— Pandie, you know how to embarrass someone, don't you? Thank you, we'll be the prettiest indeed! But... what do you mean about Black?

— It's more than obvious that you have feelings for him, and I'm also sure that it's reciprocal and well, he'll be at the party, you know.

— Reciprocal? And no, I don't have feelings for him. - fuck... I should have thought he'd be at the party. Pandora fixed her earring while I looked for a dress that would suit her.

— Yes, yes... whatever, well, I overheard him saying something about liking an animagus girl , pain in the ass, who annoyed him so much that he wanted to scream, but who also had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and I assumed it was you. Besides, really? Come on, don't try to lie to your best friend.

— Pandie... you heard pain in the ass and you assumed it was me? What a great best friend. Well, okay, maybe I like him a bit, but that's beside the point, let's change the subject, shall we? How are you and Xenophillius?

We stayed in the store until it was time to go back, choosing accessories, shoes and things like that. I spent some time in my dorm thinking about him, Pandora could easily have heard wrong, but if there was even a small chance that he might like me, I should take it, right? I ignored this feeling for a while, the days passed and the party was tonight, happy winter solstice...

(...)

Right, the party starts at 9pm and I should probably get ready. After some time, my hair was finally done after a battle to keep it the way I wanted it, I'm already wearing makeup and a dress, I'll be late since my roommates have already left and I haven't put on my high heels or accessories yet.

I arrived at the party around half past nine, but well, they are the ones who came early. Anyway.... as soon as I set foot inside the slytherin common room I could smell firewhisky, hydromel and butterbeer. It was crowded and heavily decorated.

— Oh, look who it is. I didn't think I'd see you here, since you're avoiding me. — I'd recognize that voice anywhere, so I turned around slowly, hoping I wasn't completely red.

— Avoiding you? My life doesn't revolve around you, Black, my dear.

— Indeed, but I know when someone's busy and when they're trying to avoid me, and I can tell you, you're very good at it, I've been trying to talk to you all week. — He did?

— Did you? You must really like me. — It's more the other way around, honestly.

— I do, unfortunately. — he does what, now?

I raise my eyebrow in confusion and tilt my head to the side.

— Are you kidding? Obviously... is this revenge for the peck I gave you a few days ago? If it is, just forget it.

— I'm not joking, and I can't forget it either. Believe me, I've tried, I still haven't accepted that I'm in love with someone like you.

— Someone like me? I can say the same about you then.

— So you admit that you like me too? — he smiled for the first time that night, and I could see his grey eyes sparkle along with all the decorations of the same color, which only made me more mesmerized by him.

— Maybe...

— You need to stop saying maybe.

— And you need to stop talking.

He laughed as he rolled his eyes, pulled me by the waist and sealed our lips, he smelled like cigarretes, vanilla lip balm and whisky, and that kiss was everything and even more than I expected, for a moment I forgot everything around me, the music that was playing loudly started to get muffled and I could forget about the people around us, I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and messed his hair, slowly pulling away. I smiled and it was probably one of the most sincere smiles I've ever given, and I knew that even with all our differences and fights, he would always find a way to make me smile as if it were the first time.

I was in love with Sirius Black, and his bright, deep grey eyes.

#sirius orion black #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #sirius black fic #sirius black blurb #sirius black imagine #harry potter fandom #marauders fandom #vixwritings!! 💟

[yuzukult]

hi gyu!! congratulations on 5k!! we've never really interacted much, but for the milestone game, could i request a drabble with joshua + the line, "Let me show you something! I'm sure you'll like it!" + fluff/friends to lovers?

thank you so much!! i hope to read your fics and interact with you more!! :)

hi !! tysm :] and yes !! hopefully i don't disappoint hehe

quote: let me show you something! i'm sure you'll like it! genre: friends to lovers / fluff pairing: joshua x oc!reader (fem!reader) warnings: minor cursing :D wc: 571

Do you blame yourself for being in this situation or do you blame Joshua’s boyish charms?

It all started back when Soonyoung thought you should go out more—staying in your apartment like a hermit crab during what is supposed to be “the best four years of your life” is technically not the way to go about college, but how could you when the comforts of your dream couch (that you credit yourself for purchasing second-hand) is practically singing your name like a Siren’s song? But that was rudely interrupted when Soonyoung dragged you out of your own home and to a houseparty, where you met the sweetest and purest boy ever, the one who you’d least expect to sweep you off your feet. He made your heart stutter in its beats, nostalgic to the way you felt in your middle school years. 

Even now, when you’re sitting in front of him on the lawn outside of your university, you can’t help but sneak glances in his direction. His hair is a chestnut brown, the result of an impulsive decision made from a random Friday night at Soonyoung’s frat house that was heavily influenced by mixing alcohol. Truthfully, despite the cause, the effect practically got you emoting those heart eyes. 

All to the point that you miss it when he says your name a solid five times.

“Hey,” he reiterates, waving a hand to your face. Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, and you wish you were drowning in that water bottle he’s holding. The smile that tugs on the edges of his mouth only causes your chest to tighten and your stomach to churn. “Finally got your attention. What’ve you been daydreaming about?”

You. Obviously. “Oh, nothing,” you nod, pulling your lips into a straight line. You could hear Soonyoung snickering on the side, eavesdropping while pretending to read his book on the picnic blanket. “I just–yaknow. Tired. Think I got a head cold or something.” Quick save.

“Ah! Right, that reminds me,” Joshua is quick to grab his backpack to place on his lap, sifting through the contents vicariously. “Let me show you something, I’m sure you’ll like it!”

You’ll like it? He thought of you? Surely, he’s a friend of your friend, and you both never really hung out besides with Soonyoung, but Joshua doesn’t think of you–or well, does he? Especially since, well, he just said he does?

Then, he pulls a red packet from his bag. “Here, try this.”

You furrow your brows, taking it from his hand. “What’s… this?”

“Red ginseng sticks! I saw these from the store the other day, and I thought of you because you’re always talking about how weak your immune system is. Try it!”

Blinking blankly, you slowly reach to tear the bag as Soonyoung sits up abruptly. “What the–” he snatches it from your grip, flipping the packet front and back. “Holy shit, this is real. You got her the legit stuff.”

Joshua rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “What about it?”

“These are fucking expensive! Shit, my mom would be dying to have some of these, how much did you pay for them?”

“It–It doesn’t really matter,” Joshua steals it back to hand it to you. “As long as she feels better…” that’s when your eyes lock; those chocolate irises are as enticing as a hypno wheel. “… Right?”

Joshua Hong will surely be the death of you.

#gyukultfics #joshua svt #seventeen #joshua hong

[iero]

In good news, I finally bought an iPad for work now that I know I don’t have to worry about anything for the tour for another year financially, so I’m very psyched and excited for it.

#personal #Now that I think about it was it an impulse purchase to drown out my sorrows? Perhaps. #Bought a Apple Pencil too to go along with it so mayhaps I’ll download Procreate and attempt to do art again. #But yeah. It’s sadly most for work reasons. All the managers have iPads for their jobs and then you see me... With my phone...

[kazuharem]

"Forever and Always” ↠ [FLUFF]

Genre: Drabble, Fluff, tiniest bit of angst

Pairing: Lucien x MC (Female)

Description: Lucien’s wedding day. That’s it

Summary: The happiest day of Lucien’s life.

Word Count: 2,008

Author’s Note: You guys requested for me to make Lucien happy and-

Oops my fingers slipped. So here’s happy Lucien 😊

Also, happy birthday to the love of my life. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever loved a 2D man as much as I do him, but here I am... ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ *puts on clown makeup*

Happy Birthday Lucien! 💜

[DISCLAIMER] I do not own the pictures, characters, or song. The only thing I own is the plot.

You're the first face that I see And the last thing I think about You're the reason that I'm alive You're what I can't live without

You never give up When I'm falling apart Your arms are always open wide And you're quick to forgive When I make a mistake You love me in the blink of an eye

I don't deserve your love But you give it to me anyway Can't get enough You're everything I need And when I walk away You take off running and come right after me It's what you do And I don't deserve you

You're the light inside my eyes You give me a reason to keep trying You give me more than I could dream And you bring me to my knees You bring me to my knees

Your heart is gold and how am I the one That you've chosen to love I still can't believe that you're right next to me After all that I've done

I don't deserve a chance like this I don't deserve a love that gives me everything You're everything I want

“Don’t Deserve You” - Plumb

A figure in a light gray tuxedo examined his reflection silently as he adjusted his tie. He studied his fully dressed self in the mirror, making sure that not even a hair was out of place. When the man was finally satisfied, he met his reflection fully. Lavender met lavender. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Lucien exhaled. He had never seen such a myriad of expressions on his face before. Apprehension, nervousness, happiness, and perhaps just a touch of excitement. Lucien smiled wryly. He looked like a fool stupidly in love.

Love.

What a seemingly absurd concept. Something he had never believed in. Until now. Until her.

He gazed at himself, eyes glimmering with faint excitement and he chuckled. “What have you become?” He asked himself quietly. “Look at you…believing in some crazy concept.” The tone in his voice was deprecating.

He could never imagine it. A beautiful woman in a white dress walking down the aisle. A pair of rings. Vows that spoke of forever. A companion for a lifetime. The sort of things he had never dared to want for himself.

And why should he?

Lucien had always been alone and quite frankly; it was easier this way. Doing the things he wanted to accomplish by himself. No one to argue with him. No one to get in his way. The research that spoke of advancement for the human race. Ever since the tender age of seven, he has always done things on his own. It was something he was familiar with, loneliness accepted as his way of life, and he was content to live with that fact.

Until he met her.

What was supposed to be a mere task of awakening the Queen’s powers morphed into cozy movie nights on his couch. Running for shelter from a surprise rainstorm. Sunny afternoons filled with delighted laughter. The anticipation of having someone wait for him.

Before long, she had replaced the emptiness inside him with a warmth that spread throughout him, spouting feelings of blossoming love that she had carefully sowed within him.

Lucien had found himself opening up to her. He had found himself wanting to know every little detail that made her so unique in his world.

And then there were the colors.

He had been thoroughly dazzled when he could see the prismatic colors of a rainbow for the first time. She had brought color into his bleak black-and-white world, something he had previously thought impossible. But she had accomplished the impossible. She had shown him a brand new world. And it was absolutely beautiful.

She had gone against his expectations. Gone against his point of view that humans were weak and only the strongest got to evolve. She had stood up to him, while holding her own ground.

Even after he had betrayed her, even after all the things he had done as Ares, she was still willing to welcome him into her arms. She was still able to see his side of things and yet, still loved him.

He remembered the moment she had stood up to him, defiant and strong.

“I wouldn’t. If I had the gift of prophecy and knew all kinds of secrets and knowledge…if I had faith to move mountains, but didn’t have love… Then none of it would count for anything. Even if the light’s source is put out, I’d still try to keep my own shining. No matter how difficult, or how dark it gets. Or how foolish or ridiculous.”

He could hear those very words.

“Silly girl,” Lucien murmured as he recalled the memory.

They had gone through all sorts of trials and tribulations and now they were here, at the cusp of a future Lucien had never thought he would achieve in this lifetime. But she had made it all possible.

After Black Swan had no more, there was one evening she had fallen asleep in his arms. And as Lucien gazed at the peacefully slumbering girl, he was struck with a desperate need to keep her in his arms, to want her to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last thing he sees before going to sleep. The urge consumed him, until it was the only thing he could think of.

The next day, he had impulsively stepped into a jewelry shop. When he set his sights upon a pearlescent stone which scattered rainbows when met with light, he knew. That very night, he had knelt before her and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him.

Was he selfish?

Lucien frowned, and the face in the mirror mimicked him, brow scrunching up with distaste.

Don’t be foolish, Ares, look at all you have done. Do you think you deserve such happiness?

A voice, poisonous yet alluring, pricked at the back of his mind.

He watched himself as his hand curled slowly into a fist. Did he? Did he deserve to live this happy and loving life?

That is nothing but a distant pipedream, and you know it, the voice sneered. It taunted him, reminded him of all his faults.

His fist shook as his mouth parted, letting out a silent cry of pain.

Selfish. Foolish Ares. To think you are deserving of happiness-

A sudden knock at the door interrupted the drowning tirade.

And then-

“Lucien?”

Her voice, like a blessed rainstorm after a long drought, washed away the lingering traces of the poisonous voice.

“C-come in,” Lucien cleared his throat.

The door swung up open gently and all the toxic thoughts were immediately wiped from Lucien’s mind.

She walked into the room and the sight of her made Lucien’s entire being swell with a familiar warmth that he’s learned to associate with her.

She was breathtaking. And she looked the epitome of a dream Lucien didn’t dare dream. Didn’t dare hope for. But all the same, had desperately searched for.

“You-” Lucien exhaled and walked slowly towards her. “You are beautiful…” there was wonder laced in his voice. Her cheeks reddened prettily at his words. “You are so beautiful…” he whispered in awe.

He could feel the corners of his eyes prick.

He doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve her.

But that did not stop him from wanting to.

“The photographer is waiting for us to take our pictures before the ceremony,” She fidgeted nervously as she smiled shyly, and Lucien’s heart nearly threw itself against his chest at the sight. She finally looked him in the eye and tilted her head curiously. “Are you ready?”

Lucien did not speak, couldn’t speak as he tugged her gently into his arms.

“Lucien?” She asked, voice slightly muffled by his shoulder.

“Shhh…” he murmured, and his voice is raw, thick with unspoken emotion. He buried his nose into her hair, inhaling her familiar scent. “Let’s just-stay like this for a little bit…” His shoulders began to tremble, and she belatedly realized that Lucien was crying.

“Lucien-” she struggled to turn to look at him, but he firmly kept her head tucked under his chin.

The sight of her in the white wedding dress evoked faint memories that he thought he had long forgotten. The feeling of his mother’s hand as she petted him, calling him “My Little Prince.” The pooling of his father’s big lab coat around Lucien’s tiny frame as he read voraciously through a textbook, undoubtedly much too advanced for a five-year-old. Lucien remembered his father looking on proudly. He remembered the warm afternoons of relaxing in the park when his parents took the day off to spend with him.

Lucien remembered being loved.

He sucked in a shaky breath as he pressed soft kisses against the crown of her head. “Thank you,” he breathed, his words a gentle puff of air.

She didn’t question him and only wrapped her arms around him. Lucien felt warm all over.

The couple stayed in that position for several moments until Lucien broke away slightly, “Shall we?” He asked, “Isn’t the photographer waiting?”

She huffed at him and he smiled, tweaking her nose gently. Lucien pulled her close, his hands naturally finding purchase on her waist as he led her out the door. They walked down the path where weeping wisteria hung above their heads, creating a lilac, perfumed shelter.

Lucien could see their photographer waiting in the distance.

He suddenly stopped and grabbed her wrist, spinning her into his arms.

“Lucien! People are waiting for us!” She cried out with surprise.

“They can wait a little longer,” Lucien declared, a hint of mischievous creeping into his voice. “It’s our wedding, after all.”

She pouted at him and Lucien grinned broadly. “I have something I want to say. And I want only you to hear these words,” Lucien started quietly, the teasing tone easing into one that was more serious.

She nodded and Lucien could see the blind trust and unconditional love in those beautiful eyes.

He took a deep breath, “When it comes to you, I seem to have planned many beginnings, but I can never predict the endings,” Lucien began, and her eyes widened.

Somewhere, a photographer was holding his camera anxiously, as he looked around for any sign of the couple.

Somewhere, a group of guests were sitting in confusion, wondering when the ceremony was going to begin.

Somewhere, a certain CEO was looking at his watch impatiently, brows furrowed in annoyance.

Somewhere, a certain police officer was bouncing his leg in anxiety, secretly wondering if anything had happened to the bride.

Somewhere, a certain idol was waiting restlessly on stage, ready to give the happy couple a wedding performance.

But all these people did not matter to Lucien as he continued.

“I purposely tried to distance myself from you. It’s not that you did anything wrong. It was…safer. For you. Before I met you, I disliked the idea of having a companion. We all have our own destinations, and if I had to match my steps with anyone else’s, I’d walk much slower. But as I walked my path alone, every time I turned around…I’d always find that you had caught up with me. This time is no different. You’re the only one in the world whom I’d gladly turn around for. Or…you’re the only one who could catch up to me and remain by my side. You are the first person I want to see in the morning and the last at night. Thank you for bringing color into my world. Thank you for loving me. I promise to keep you safe, to keep you happy. I promise I will take your love to give me hope, give me joy, and make me a better man. So, from now on, I’ll never let go.”

Lucien paused, gazing into her now watery eyes. He leaned in closer until their noses touched and their breaths mingled.

“I love you, forever and always.”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The companion fic to his birthday karma “Cozy Day” will be coming soon!

I love this man so much, y’all don’t understand the amount of love I have for him, okay 😌 Paper Games, let my mans be happy for once pls

For more of my work: 📖

#fluffy goodness #Lucien is finally happy #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #lucien #mr love lucien #lucien xu #drabble #mlqc drabble #love and producer #mlqc lucien #mlqc xumo #fluff #lucien fic #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fanfiction #lucien fanfic #恋与制作人 #love and producer xumo #happy lucien is a turn on of mine #hbd lucien #wedding fluff #Lucien birthday celebration #HBDLucien2020 #Lucien birthday 2020 #wedding fic #lucien fluff #elainabearie #xumo fanfic #my writing

[cheesy09]

Did I Find You? Kiro x MC Fanfic

This is my own variation on the events that take place in Chapter 19 of Kiro’s route. Or more like... my fantasies T_T.  Although I didn’t intend to, it came out a lot angstier than I expected so be prepared. Also, this is my first time writing fanfiction so I’m sorry if the characters end up being a little OOC. Don’t be shy to send your feedback. It would really help improve my writing.

Spoilers for Chapter 19 of the game and Kiro’s Stardust Date. If you haven’t read these two things yet than you probably won’t understand whats going on here. 

Tagging all my lovely Kiro/Helios lovers out there @kudoriee, @thatfanfictionchick, @truth-be-told-im-lying and @pickle-scribbles whose stories inspired me to start writing fanfiction. Thank you, you guys, for being so amazing! Even if I could never dream about writing smut.  

Anyway, without further ado, Enjoy!

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

“Kiro!” I shouted, bursting through the door that opened onto the roof top.

He turned, a trace of shock flashing through his clear, pure eyes, but fading just as fast.

“Miss Chips, what are you doing here--woah!”

I didn’t give him a chance to finish, grabbing his hand and dragging him back inside, my heart racing with urgency. Images from my dream flashed through my mind. The endless white, the mist, and me-- groping around like a blind man seeking desperately for his long-lost light. If I hadn’t had that dream, would I have been able to find him? I shivered involuntarily at the thought. His palm that was usually so warm, was now a stone cold, which only caused my anxiety to rise. I tightened my grip on his long, slender fingers as I continued pulling him along to the elevator.

“O-ouch, Miss Chips! You’re hurting me!” Kiro winced slightly, but that didn’t make me loosen my grip. I was much too afraid to find out what would happen if I did.

Afraid that… if I loosened them, even a bit, he would slip right through my fingers and I’d lose him forever.

“Miss Chips, where are we going?” His irresistible voice sounded in my ear, finally making me turn to look at him. His perfect eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion, forming worried lines on his glistening brow. His gorgeous, deep blue eyes that I’d constantly find myself drowning in, reflected an unusual sense of melancholy for some reason. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for him this time.

“Home.” My voice sounded a lot harsher than I’d meant it to. In all the time that I had been with him, I’d rarely ever gotten mad at Kiro. He was the warmth and light of my life. The boy whose charming, unreserved laughter could light up a whole room. Whose smile was like a beacon in the dark. Sure, there were times where I’d find myself getting annoyed when he’d take his teasing a little too far, but Kiro never got me riled up enough for me to lash out at him.

Yet this time, the stunt he’d pulled managed to push my buttons to the max. Anger boiled in me like hot magma threatening to burst out. Savin’s anxious tone and the cold, electronic voice that had rung through my ears when I had dialed Kiro’s number this morning had thrown me into a panic like I’d never felt before. It had felt like I was on the verge of losing my mind. “How could you just run off on your own like that? Savin and everyone else have been look for you, you know?!”

The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside, pulling him along, my hand still clutching his own as if my very life depended on it. The elevator doors shut behind us.

I thought I wouldn’t get a reply, but after a few seconds his voice drifted through the air, carrying with it a grim heaviness I’d never heard from him before.

“I’ll explain things to Savin and the others later,” he said. “But before I do… can I ask you something?” Kiro didn’t wait for my answer and instead just tugged on my arm to make me face him. His seraphic face entered my vision, and all of my previous anger was instantly blown out of my system.

“…If I wasn’t Kiro the superstar anymore, would you still like me, Miss Chips? Would you still… think of me?”

My whole body froze as his words sunk in. This had been a question that he’d asked me countless of times… and every time, my answer was the same.

In a burst of annoyance, I brought my middle finger to his forehead and flicked it.

Kiro let out a cry of pain as he took a step back from me and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. The wide-eyed shock and confusion with which he looked at me actually made me feel a little better about myself. Then, I caught his slightly red cheeks between my palms and brought him down to face me, pressing my forehead against his own like the way he’d do to me, those countless times in the past.

“I told you, it doesn’t matter who you are and what kind of life you have, you will always be ‘Kiro’ to me and I will always think of you,” I said firmly, hoping to brand my words and my feelings into his mind and heart.

“You...” 

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the way his breath caught in his throat, or the way a spark of doubt flashed through his shimmering, azure eyes, but in a bold moment of impulsiveness, I lifted myself onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his own.

Kiro’s entire body went rigid as a tiny gasp escaped his lips, as if his mind couldn’t process what was happening at that very moment. But after a few seconds, I felt his body cave, his hands grabbing my hips and pinning me against the wall, pressing his whole body against me. One of my hands found purchase on the back of his neck while the other held on to the scarf wrapped around his neck, tugging him closer and closer, like I was trying to brand his body with my own.

His lips were as soft as I remembered them, but there was no tenderness or gentleness to this kiss. It was ravenous, desperate and stripped me of my ability to think straight. Our mouths moved against each other with an urgent need, like a dance of our own, in sync and in heat, drinking each other in.

When I felt the familiar warmth of his tongue brush against my own, I was taken back to that night of the concert, when he’d kissed me just like this and asked me to come look for him, if he ever got lost. At that time, I never really understood what he meant when he said ‘come look for me,’ but now I think I do.

Did I find you, Kiro? Was I able to bring you back?

As our lips continued to move against each other, Kiro brought up his right hand to brush against my flushed ears and I let out a soft moan into his mouth.

That seemed to bring him back to reality.

All of sudden, Kiro broke away from the kiss, his harsh, heated breaths mixing with my own. Our foreheads were still pressed together, noses brushing and chests heaving against each other. “Now do you understand?” I whispered, ghosting my lips over his, making him shiver. “No matter who you are, I will always like you.”

Kiro let out a light chuckle as he buried his face in my shoulders, his fluffy blonde hair tickling my neck. He didn’t say anything and neither did I. We were content on just holding each other, and perceiving each other’s existence through our shared body heat. But after a few minutes, Kiro’s soft voice cut through the silence.

“I’m sorry.”  

It was like a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured on me. Images flashed through my mind as I was overcome with a sense of déjà vu. I seemed to remember silver hair, a pair of gold eyes, these same familiar arms, this same broken voice, the same feelings of anguish and despair and the same sensation of tears running down my face.

Before I even had time to react, Kiro grabbed me by shoulders and pushed me back, staring at me with a determined look on his face.

Only this time, his eyes were a blazing gold.

“I command you—”

   When the elevator had finally reached the bottom, there was only one person who stepped out, while the other remained behind, the doors sliding shut on the vision of his bitter smile.

I walked out of the building in a daze, the commotion of the traffic loud in my ears. Static seemed to blanket the other parts of my memory, only one thing coming through clearly.

I hailed a taxi and told the driver the only thing that was on my mind.

“Driver, I want to go home.”

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

Thank you so much for reading. If you’re interested in checking out my other works, you’ll find them in my Masterlist

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc kiro #mlqc spoilers #mlqc zhou qiluo #hope these are all the tags

[ephemeral-sorrow]

The Sweetness of Frenemic Love

Sometimes the strangest thoughts enter my head and make me write something bizarre but really touching at the same time. :D

pairing: Lilly x Male!MC

summary: It`s one step from hatred to love.

warning: a bunch of fluff  ;)

Have you ever experienced resentment towards someone you`ve never met in real life? 

Felt irritation and anger bubble up inside your head like lava slowly filling the volcano to the brim, almost turning your eyes into two sizzling hot coals? 

Lilly had been familiar with these disgusting sensations even before she got to knew MC - the obnoxious stranger Hannah sent her number to and the one who managed to infiltrate their group and spread insurgency among everyone and everything around. Her sister`s disappearance ruined their peaceful lives, putting Lilly and her parents into huge stress, when each day with news even more horrible than on previous one, took away all their hope. So, to conclude it all, a completely unknown weirdo, who gained access to different sorts of information as well as trust of her blindly oblivious friends, now was sticking his nose into other people`s business without pangs of conscience.

The way things were progressing kept Lilly infuriated and incredibly... depressed. She refused to admit that to herself, but she was even angrier because of her own helplessness. She wanted to do something useful and finally get a clue that might come in handy or at least set things up so that the investigation would be faster and more efficient. However, guys from the group already had their own theories, sources and clues, took part in various events and furthermore, acted carelessly, not paying attention to threats.  ... They made it clear that Lilly`s advice was pointless, just like her participation.

That`s why the mere thought of some stranger doing more for Hannah than her family made something snap inside, clouding Lilly`s judgement and true character with boundless spite. Not to mention, pure fear engulfed her at the suggestion that MC may be the real culprit, and here, cards played so flawlessly right into his hands...

                                                       *     *     *

Now it was a completely different story, and it was kind of hard to believe that was how she used to think of him only a year ago. A lot happened, making those restless days seem like a distant memory or rather a thrilling movie, characters of which were another people, portrayed in another places and time.

“So, what do you make of my new car?”

Lilly blinked, snapping out of her flooding thoughts and returned her attention to the cup of chocolate icecream with gente, pink frosting before her -  and finally, stared at the rest of the group, that made themselves comfortable at the cafe table. Today was the celebration on account of Dan`s grandiose purchase - dashing, brand new Audi A3 model. It costed him a fortune but didn`t lessen his enthusiasm nor pride(having exited the hospital as soon as possible, he spent a great deal of effort in finding a good job AND cutting down on alcohol). As a result, every time he ordered apple juice at the Rainbow cafe he declared: “Cool dudes drink only juice!”.

“Dan, that was the hundredth time you`ve asked this question”, despite the fake bored tone, Cleo wore an amused smile, dropping her usual strictness.

“What can I possibly do when all of you are so short-spoken?” Dan dramatically leaned back on the soft cushion. “I need details. Not talking about this pretty girl is a sacrilege”.

“If she was mine, I`d call her ‘babe’ “, ice cubes softly clincked against the glass, as Richy thoughtfully twisted his cocktail in his hand. “And the quiet purrs of her engine are the same as a hearbeat--”

“Now, now, you`re just being ridiculous!” Hannah`s melodic laugh ringed before drowning in the chatter of the crowded cafe. Lilly`s insides warmed up upon seeing her sister smiling sweetly in the Thomas` embrace. She was safe and sound, cheerful and full of love for the surrounding world. Everything was back to normal and it made Lilly genuinely happy--

She felt hot breath pleasantly tickle her ear before a crisp, familiar voice sensually whispered to her:

“I don`t know about others, but if you asked me, the only ‘babe’ I see is you”.

Lilly couldn`t really help the flush that spread on her neck, so she coughed, pretending to be extremely interested in her icecream, which was already starting to melt.

She casted a quick glance at the man beside her, attempting to look unfazed by his sudden compliment only to be met with his mischievous, affectionate eyes.

“MC, we`re... we`re in public”, she whispered back rather shyly.

“You were kind of dreamy while looking at Thomas and Hannah, so I decided to remind you that you didn`t come here alone”.

“Hmph”, Lilly pouted, fixing the fallen lock of her hair. “as if I need your tasteless remarks to cheer up. You should come up with something more original”.

MC laughed airily, flashing his signature confident smirk. Lilly took a small breath, furrowed her delicate brows and turned away stubbornly, turning a deeper shade of red. She didn`t like her heart clenching bittersweetly at his actions, especially in front of her unsuspecting friends. It was difficult to keep a perfectly composed face.

“I`ll cook you Peking meat by my special receipt tonight”, MC continued as if nothing had happened, absentmindedly observing the lively conversation between Jessy, Dan and Thomas, and how Cleo was showing Hannah something on the phone.

“I’ll take it as an invitation to your house?” Lilly inquired. “Why are you so sure I`m going to accept it?”

“Oh please, sweetie, do you want me to list all reasons in front of so many people?” His expression was calm and serious, but Donfort knew better: he was mercilessly teasing her, not caring about precautions at all.

Lilly hit his leg under the table, earning a triumphant ‘ouch’ in response.

                                                     *     *     *

Later that evening at his place, after having had a fair piece of the most delicious meat she has ever eaten, Lilly was helping MC to wash the dishes, drying the shiny plates with a cloth and placing them into the cupboard. He was mumbling a delightful tune under his breath. She glanced at his features. Somehow simply being with this person made her forget about all troubles. But what about him?

“MC”, Lilly tried to sound not too curious. 

“Yes?”

“Why did you choose me of all girls? I mean... I`ve never thought that you might become interested in me after what I did to you a year ago with that video and vote. Like in person, let alone a woman. You`ve been best friends with Jessy from the start, so it would`ve been logical if you two have had a thing”.

“To be honest with you, your brother said the same”, he smiled with the corners of his mouth. “What I found in you”.

“Excuse me, what!?” the girl exploded with outrage, dropping the cloth out of surprise. “Jake, that little jerk!! He`s supposed to back me up in situations like this!”

MC was holding his laughter for his dear life or he would inevitably get a handful but frankly, it was getting harder.

“What did you reply? Come on, I want to know!!” Lilly was worried and frustrated at the same time, looking at him impatiently and expectantly, like a little kid who desired to know their present for birthday.

“You seem so desperate-- HAHAHA, I CAN`T!”

Lilly groaned and threw a sponge at him on full speed, not bothering that it was still wet and full of soap. What was so funny when all she wanted to hear was these important words of confirmation?

MC cleaned his face and came closer.

“I replied that you`re the one who understands me. The one who always makes my day brighter. Also you are kind and candid”, his palm rested against her cheek, tenderly caressing it, as she leaned for his touch.

“I can often be impulsive and sharp”.

“That doesn`t make you worse. You always speak your mind. I think it`s admirable. Not to mention, you are a truly charming and elegant woman”.

She didn`t let MC finish his sentence because their lips collided in a soft, albeit passionate manner. Lilly lived up to her statement - this kiss was spontaneous and full of feeling. She traced his wide shoulders, stopping when her hands found their place in his unruly hair, slightly tugging at it. 

They parted once they ran out of air.

“Jake additionally said my romantic confession would lead to this”.

“Ugh, you`re terrible!!”

#duskwood #mc #lilly #lilly x mc #jake #richy #cleo #hannah #thomas #dan #jessy #everbyte #duskwood fanfiction

[grimoire-of-seven]

DRABBLE: “His Tinder Date”

Rating: SFW Words: 534 Characters: Asmodeus + Toddler MC / Gender-Neutral Reader

Notes: Many might say that it is shocking to hear Asmodeus not having a date yet for Valentine. And to them, he would say; “When you have a lot of suitors lined up, it is just a matter of sleecting and knowing who you would flatter with an invitation to my bed.”  And oh! This is in Asmodeus’ perspective.~ 

“So you are really going to swipe left on that man?” “Darling.. think about it.” …

“Look.” Zooming in to the man’s profile, he paused to just stare back at the handsome smiling on him. “Look at him. Those chiseled jaw, that nice pointy nose, and intense eyes that could make you squirm as he grabs your hair and..”

Hmph!

“All right, all right!” Raising both his hands high, he sighed in defeat; “Just don’t look at me like my neck is going to be choked and have it gossiped at Karasu announcements the next morning.” Asmodeus picked the little cutie up and on his lap, letting the chubby-cheeks-child continue what he was dreading to do for a while.. Not when people are getting into him and  his dms.. “Just continue swiping and find me a Tinder match for tonight’s date.”

Mhmm!

There they go again with sticking their tongue out. For God’s sake.. For Diavolos’ sake.. Oh  for my beautiful sake, am I delicate and weak whenever this little brat would pout that lips like a cherry. It is just so adorable.

If only he would not get his cheeks bitten whenever he would give those chubby cheeks a kiss. Otherwise, he might have just drown them with his smooches. Though.. He would not mind lovebites by his date later..~

Taking a stroll along his thoughts, he was soon reminded of his mission of getting his beautiful self warm tonight and his eyes darted back to the screen of the blinky box where his suitors are all lined up by the algorithm when…

“Just what do you think you’re doing?!” “Give me back my phone!” “Hey!”

Seeing the little kid bolting out of his lap, running and mad crazy at swiping left at EVERY possible suitor he could have tasted aside the meal at the restaurant he made reservations of, it was all too late when he got to grab his phone and the little brat on his other arm, flailing.

You’ve hit the end of the line --- for today.

“Now just look at what you did, you little..” “Who would take me out now and the gorgeous suit I just purchased yesterday out of impulse?” “Not to mention my gorgeous self after a week of going to the spa and not missing a single appointment to my dermatologist, hmm?”

Me!

“You?!” “You?” “You…?”

Harrumph!

“I mean.. it is just that you are sooo small.. and so young.. and so..” “I do not want to be looking like a young dad taking his child to dinner..” “I want to look occupied with a date but available.~”

…

“Oh honey.. don’t make a sad face now..”

Cupping their cheeks with his hands almost covering their face, it seems the demon of lust has to surrender and take his white sheet to wave it in defeat.

So this has been your plan all along, hmm? Little baby.. Someone is just needy for my attention.

“Oh be a darling now and wait for your Asmodeus to get change, okay?”

“Yay!” “Biggie Asmodeus ish my date!~”

”Oh you...” Booping their nose that made him subconsciously smile, he added with a wink; “And I’ll take you to the newly opened restaurant I just made reservations to. I heard their food is delish.~”

#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me drabble #obey me shall we date #obey me game #obey me #asmodeus #reader #toddler reader #fluff #mod shin-seul #headcanons

[navollidiot]

hear the thunder in this quiet trembling sigh (robbe x sander)

my hand slipped uhhhhh wtfock has me by the fucking THROAT lmao (@cowgirl078 @impatient14 here u go)

They sprint down the stairs two at a time. Robbe very nearly falls on his face trying to get his pants back on, but he’s laughing, and so is Sander, the sound bouncing off the walls and drowning out the shouts of the security guard and his dog still intent on catching them as they scramble to get dressed again.

Sander tugs his shirt over his head, mussing up his wet hair in the process, and flashes Robbe another one of those unbelievable grins, even more so now that Robbe knows what that mouth tastes like.

“Let’s ride, angel!” Sander throws open the door through which they’d entered and clambers onto his bike. Robbe wastes no time in following suit and then they’re off, racing like wildfire into the dark of the night, almost soaring right off the ground and into the stars.

His shirt sticks to his chest where he’s still damp from the pool and the wind whips through his hair and across his skin like icy fingertips, but none of it can even come close to diminishing the ecstasy thrumming through every cell in his body right now. He lets out a resounding whoop and hears Sander gleefully echo it back to him.

When they’re about to reenter the bustling downtown area, Sander slows down and loops once around Robbe before stretching out a hand to him. Robbe takes it, and Sander beams at him.

“Where to?”

“Um…” Robbe’s mind has gone blank of all information except for this moment they’re suspended in right now, Sander looking at him, the pair of them biking slowly side by side, hands interlocked. Somehow he forces his brain to come up with actual words. “I don’t know about you, but I’d really like to get properly dry.”

Sander’s hair is a windswept mess and Robbe wants nothing more than to run his fingers through it again, wants to know what that bleached blond hair feels like when it isn’t sopping wet.

“Lead the way, then.” Sander lets go and allows Robbe to pull ahead of him. A new kind of breathlessness overtakes Robbe then, something huge and overwhelming that blossoms from his lungs outward, escaping from his ribcage like a wild beast. He’s never been the one to call the shots like this. But now here’s a boy, all whirlwind impulses and dramatic gestures, who’s taken Robbe on the adventure of his lifetime and who’s now willing to be guided wherever Robbe takes him.

So he takes him home.

Robbe manages to open and close the door quietly enough that their entrance seems to draw no attention. But it’s a close call when they tiptoe through the flat and happen upon a creaky floorboard, muffling giggles and Robbe frantically shushing Sander when Zoë calls from her room, “Is that you, Robbe?”

“Go, go, go, go! And keep the light off,” Robbe flaps his arms to send Sander towards his bedroom before they’re discovered and scurries in after him, shutting the door behind them as softly as he can manage.

Under cover of darkness, Sander looks a little bit like a ghost, his silhouette backlit by the window. The light of the moon reflecting off his hair makes him look enchanting, almost otherworldly, as he stands there, looking expectantly at Robbe.

“Nice room,” he whispers.

“Sit there,” Robbe points to the bed. He grabs an armful of towels from his closet and tosses one at Sander, who runs it over his hair a few times before stripping off his jacket and shirt. Suddenly abashed, Robbe turns away from him, even as the image of Sander with far fewer clothes on earlier rises involuntarily to the forefront of his mind.

He has a boy in his room. A boy who kissed him, a boy who he kissed back. Robbe can hardly believe it. Can hardly think about it all for too long without feeling like he’s going insane.

He feels more than hears Sander get off the bed, swallowing as he turns around to face him again.

“Everything okay, angel?”

There it is again. The casual intimacy of the word hits Robbe in the gut, knocks everything that he might have said right out of his throat, his mind empty again.

I feel like I should be the one calling you that is what he would say if he had the courage. But he doesn’t, so he leans in to kiss Sander instead.

The towel drops to the floor from Sander’s grasp as he brings his hands up to cup Robbe’s face. Robbe’s heart seems on the verge of bursting right out of his chest with how hard it’s beating. He’s never been kissed like this before, never thought that it could ever feel like this.

His fingers find purchase on the other boy’s back and at his nape at the same time Sander moves one hand to grip Robbe’s waist, his thumb gently brushing at the thin strip of exposed skin there.

They kiss until Robbe can barely feel his lips anymore, and even when they pull apart Sander doesn’t go very far, latching onto Robbe’s neck so that he lets out a squeak of surprise.

“You have no idea how tempted I am to stay here tonight,” Sander murmurs into his collarbone, each word pressed into Robbe’s skin like an individual little promise. “So fucking tempted.”

In a perfect world, Robbe would have dragged Sander into bed with him right then and there and they’d hold each other for hours, with no regard for the next day, kissing and talking and touching until the sky grew light.

But it’s a Wednesday night and the world is far from perfect. He knows full well that Sander needs to go back to his place, as much as he’d love to wake up with an armful of this boy, maybe with his nose buried in his hair and their legs tangled beneath the covers. It would certainly make the ordeal of getting up and ready for school a little more bearable.

He can’t find the right words to express his longing, so he bites his lip and kisses Sander again, one, two, three little pecks on the corners of his mouth, before wrapping his arms around his neck in a farewell embrace. He tries to put every little bit of emotion he’s feeling into the hug, hopes that Sander will somehow understand.

From the way Sander runs a soothing hand down Robbe’s back and how he breathes out an “I’ll see you around,” that sounds more like a vow than a goodbye, it seems like they’re on the same page.

The strip of light beneath Zoë’s door has been extinguished, thankfully, when Robbe cracks open his door to peek out into the living room. He takes Sander to the front door, managing to dodge the creaky floorboard this time, and is about to turn to leave when Sander pulls him back in for one last kiss in the open doorway.

“Good night, Robbe.”

“Good night, Sander.”

Robbe’s fingers are already tangled in Sander’s hair again.

“Sweet dreams.”

He stands there for a lot longer than he needs to, watching that head of silver get smaller and smaller and eventually disappear into the blackness.

Thanks for the adventure, angel.

#wtfock #wtfock fic #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #rosander #my work #writing #text #this is HIGHLY self indulgent yes ur suspicions were correct #not druck

[loxxxlay]

dark thor, grandthorki, excerpt

I didn’t finish anything for grandthori day despite my Grand Plans (TM) so I figured since this is the longest grandthorki wip I have right now I might as well share a longer excerpt from it! ^_^ Hope y’all enjoyyy (and hope I finish this by November lol)

***

“Everything,” Thor said, “that has ever gone wrong in my life has been because of you. You ruined my coronation. You got our parents killed. You ruined Asgard.”

Wincing at the truth in those words, Loki shrank against the wall, silent.

“There is nothing I would like more than to see you burned.” Thor’s hands shot forward and grabbed clumps of Loki’s hair, and Loki braced himself, not daring to defend. “Do you know how easily I could have you killed?”

Loki shook his head. “He wouldn’t—”

“Not him. Stop thinking about him.” Thor leaned in close, lips to Loki’s ear, voice a mere whisper. “Think about me. How easy it would be for me to kill you.”

A shiver raced down Loki’s spine.

“I could do it. I could do it in your sleep. I could do it in plain sight. Whether he’d be pleased or not, do you think the Grandmaster would give a fuck if you were already dead?” Thor’s grip on Loki’s hair tightened, and his mouth spit the words. “Nobody would miss you. Nobody would care. I suggest—you stop worrying about who gives a shit about me and start worrying about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said. “I just—”

“Quiet,” Thor shouted, and his startlingly loud voice echoed in the bathroom. “You don’t speak unless you’re asked a question. You don’t do anything without my permission. You are my slave. Say it. Say you are my slave.”

Tears sprung to his eyes, and he closed them to keep the show of fear back. “Thor,” he started.

Thor jostled him against the wall. “I am your king. You are my slave. Say it.”

He should say it. Loki knew this. It would mean nothing in the end. But the remnants of his pride surged, and out of breath, he couldn’t quite speak the words.

Something murderous glinted in Thor’s eyes. Before Loki could react, Thor yanked him by the clumps of his hair and shoved him under water. 

[read more cut]

By pure instinct, Loki fought. He flailed at Thor’s hand holding him down, and he kicked and jerked, but Thor’s looming body pinned him against the wall of the tub. His knee kept Loki’s legs from gaining any purchase under the water, and no matter how he scrambled or squirmed, he couldn’t escape Thor’s grip.

The seconds ticked by. After a moment, his lungs screeched with a dire need to reach the surface, but Thor’s grip didn’t budge.

He’s going to kill you, Loki thought frantically. He’s going to kill you.

Desperate for air, Loki’s mouth opened on it’s own as if to gasp—and Thor yanked him free of the water. Air lurched into his throat, and Loki coughed and choked around it, even as he tried to breathe. He struggled against Thor’s grip, but—his limbs felt weak, and it was all he could do to even think.

Then Thor shoved him under again.

His squirming was more half-hearted this time. Every cell in his body was fatiguing fast.

This time, Thor didn’t bring him up soon enough. He gasped, underwater, and liquid filled his mouth. He fought the impulse, but again and again his lungs forced him to inhale.

Thor brought him up, and he spat the water free. His throat felt raw, and his lungs spasmed weakly. It took too many seconds to breathe in a fresh lungful of air. He croaked, “Th-Thor—”

Thor slammed his head underwater.

He started to see stars. The dark indigo of the water started to flicker and fade to gray. He was going to die, like this. Murdered by his own brother—and what would Thor, the real Thor, do when he realized it was his own hands that had done this? What would the Grandmaster do to Thor, once Loki was no longer there to protect him?

There was no answer in his thoughts. He drifted.

Then, suddenly, he felt his throat spasm with need. He vomited. Waterlogged puke spilled all over the floor and on his hands, and he realized he was face down on the floor of the bathroom, out of the tub with a large, heavy hand on his shoulder blades. He spat water from his throat and gasped. Each breath scraped the walls of his throat, of his lungs, dry.

He was crying and gagging and choking, and his entire body burned in agony.

Thor waited until he was halfway lucid. Then he took Loki by the hair and forced his head up. “Are you going to say it now?”

Unable to find his voice, Loki coughed.

“You’re testing my patience, brother,” Thor growled.

Loki cleared his throat, but his voice was still barely a croak. “I—am your—slave,” he managed. The attempt to speak had him coughing again, each cough like a sandboard down his esophagus. 

“Say it again.”

Even drowned and helpless as he was, heat flushed to his cheeks. He swallowed another round of coughs. “I am your slave.”

“Once more,” Thor said, the smile showing through his voice.

And this time, Loki felt the words reverberate in his beaten, breaking soul. “I am your slave,” he said, and it felt like truth.

Thor released his hair and patted his head gently. “Good. Perhaps this will instill some fear in you.” 

#grandthorki #dark thor #grandthorki for ts #marvel #fic excerpt

[indiavolowetrust]

Carajillo II

SUMMARY: The sequel to Carajillo, which you can read here. A coup d'etat has been staged in the Celestial Realm. The human proposes a plan to halt the impending war.

Part One: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Part Two: Coming Soon!

Part Three: Coming Soon!

TW: Blood, Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Mention of Rape

PART ONE: CHAPTER ONE

Even in slumber her face is lined with worry. There is no end to her brooding, it seems. She whimpers softly against the pillow again and again, her cheeks stained with tears, and her frail body trembles with an overwhelming, oppressive fear. She should not suffer her inordinate sensitivity to the cold as she had in life, given her state as a soul, and still she shivers. Still she cries out in the long hours of the night, her psyche revealing the damage I had inflicted upon it. Her fingers curl against the sheets, searching for purchase. I slip my hand beneath hers, entwining her smaller fingers with mine.

I use my free hand to trace the soft angles of her face. Carving out the silhouette of her visage in the darkness. I have witnessed the image thousands of  times before -- the dark, doe-like eyes, olive skin, and pitch-black curls spilling over her shoulders -- and I can only hope to have the pleasure to witness the image thousands of times more. If she would have me.

I press my palm to her cheek, cradling the cold skin there. She sighs. Her eyelids begin to flutter, the clutches of her nightmare finally releasing her, and it is only moments before she regards me. She blinks, the vestiges of sleep clouding her perception. Her fear slowly but surely retreating back into her psyche.

And then she smiles.

“You don’t sleep,” she murmurs, nuzzling into my touch.

“Neither do you.”

“Yes, but I’m not the one that has to be up all day,” she counters, her tone languid. The shadows under her eyes would suggest that she has slept little as well, undoing the implications of her argument. “You’ll have about an hour or so, I think, if you go to sleep now. You should at least try.”

“Should I?” I ask.

“Of course you should.” She begins to turn away from me, adjusting her position in the bed, but I do not allow her to do so. Her eyes flicker to mine with slight annoyance. “Barbatos --”

I roll on top of her before she can finish, my arms caging her in. Already I can feel the sensation of my true form coming to light -- my horns rupture through the sides of my skull, my tail forms from the bottom of my spine, and my teeth lengthen, growing sharper with each increment. Maria stares at me for a moment, wide-eyed. All vestiges of sleep seem to have simply vanished from her conscience, her prior lethargy having succumbed to the realization of my intentions. My tail flicks away a stray curl at her brow.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say, pressing my hardness against her. I can feel the outline of her folds through the thin fabric of her underwear, her channel already beginning to slaver with need. “I would be happy to explain, if you have a need for it.”

She furrows her brows. “It’s too early for this.”

“Your reaction seems to indicate otherwise.” My tail all but peels off the flimsy garment from her form, flinging it elsewhere in the room, and I lean down to her throat the nibble at the sensitive skin there. One of my teeth grazes against the delicate area, inciting a shiver to run through her body. “If I didn’t know any better,” I continue, planting small kisses along her throat and collarbone, “I would say you had anticipated this. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Don’t -- don’t tease me like that,” she says, biting her lip. She barely stifles a gasp as I latch onto one of her breasts through the fabric of the borrowed shirt, sucking aggressively at the flesh beneath. “Just hurry up.”

I meet her gaze, taking in the image of her lustful expression. “Why?”

“Because --”

She yelps in surprise as I place her thighs onto my shoulders. My mouth envelops her small clit, sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and my tongue moves to drag itself languidly across the folds of her dripping gash. Five minutes and twenty-three seconds into the act, Maria’s soft moans and breathless sighs saturate the air of the bedroom. Intoxicating me. Seven minutes and forty seconds into the act, she is writhing beneath my assault, attempting to angle me just so to quicken the course of her release. I deny her. Ten minutes and two seconds into the act, pleading, quiet words depart from her mouth in a continuous stream, begging that I take her. Hopelessly, endlessly urging that I do so.

What am I but an instrument for her wishes? Who am I to deny the indulgence of her pleasure?

I need no other encouragement. It is only a moment before I position myself at her entrance, pressing against the soft, velvet folds -- and then I plunge myself into her, fully sheathing myself into her channel. Her name is a prayer on my lips, hanging in the space between the both of us. I do not allow it to remain as such. I press deeper into her, adjusting the angle of my thrusts. Wrapping my arms around her. She gasps, her body squirming in response to the sudden accommodation, and I make an effort to restrain myself. Even in death, it would appear that her body is too frail for me to treat with ultimate fervor.

I will not inflict pain on her again.

Her pupils are unfocused in the dark, the barest of a wince coming over her features. It takes thirty-eight seconds for it to cease. It takes ten seconds for me to convince myself that I am not harming her with the act. It is only then that I begin to shift myself in and out of her, studying her expression with every movement. The impulse to simply thrust into her with abandon is compelling, my own need threatening to overtake my actions -- but my control is much too strong to succumb to such things. My fear of tearing her apart again is even greater.

Her visage is awash with the light of the false moon when I position myself just above her once more, the illumination playing at her soft features. The everlasting darkness of the Devildom permeates the space around us, yes, but it is as there is a light that emanates from within her form. As if some shard of the false moon had lodged itself within her, her frail body chosen as its bearer. I am only fortunate enough to gaze upon it.

It is a soft, quiet copulation. This time, I do not take anything from her. Instead, I give and give and give until there is no more of myself to offer. I listen to every whispered plea, every undulation of her form, every soft word that escapes her lips. After what I had done -- after the horrifying realization that she had been aware of my actions -- I cannot bring myself to treat her in such a manner again. I have locked away that selfish, more desperate part of myself, caging in the dark thoughts. I have long swallowed the key, if only for her sake.

“Why did you do it?” she asks. Her voice is oddly resonant. Distorted. “I don’t understand.”

“For you,” I respond, pressing small kisses to her throat. “I did everything for you.”

I feel her shake her head, the bare skin pressed to mine suddenly moistened with tears. “No. No, no, not that. How could you do it? How could you let it happen?”

I draw back from her form to regard her, lifting a finger to wipe away her tears. Preparing to dash away whatever sadness or fatigue has befallen her. The false moonlight spills over her small form once more.

She is not crying.

Her throat erupts with that horrible, vivid crimson, the sheets beneath her becoming stained with the liquid. Blood drips freely from her mouth as she chokes, wheezing gasps escaping from her lips. I watch with horror as the blood encapsulates my own hands, holding me in place as the hue travels up the contours of my body. In moments there is nothing but that violent crimson visible in the space around us, drowning me in the screaming, intense hue. Forcing me to gaze upon her.

There is almost nothing but pure, unbridled hatred in her expression. Blinding rage. Yet amongst the anger, the disgust, there is also the hint of pity. Blood spills from her mouth when she speaks once more, the iron suffusing the air.

“How could you let me so suffer so many times?” she cries. “I felt it! I felt everything! How could you be so selfish? Why couldn’t you just let me die? I hate you!”

I hate you.

I hate you.

I hate you.

The room shatters, the shards of the windowpane skewering through both her body and mine. I try to look away, to tear my eyes away from this being that cannot possibly be her -- but some unseen force holds my skull in its vice-like grip. I am forced to stare at the deserved wrath that lies in her gaze as my limbs are torn away from my body, the flesh ravaged by some beast that lies in the blood. Devouring me. My bones crush easily within its jaws, my skull cracking beneath the force. I cannot fight the entity.

There is only the dark, seething wrath in her eyes as she immolates me. Even when there is nothing left of me, my bones crushed to dust and my flesh stripped from my body, I can feel the weight of her hatred.

* * *

My heart threatens to burst from my chest when I finally awaken, a trickle of cold sweat running down the nape of my neck. The vestiges of the nightmare still cling to my conscience, even moments after, and I find myself scanning the darkness of the room for any signs of danger. Any hint of that violent, horrible crimson. My gaze flickers around the corners of the sparsely decorated room, searching. But there is nothing of the sort to be found. My desk and nightstand lie bare, the doors of my wardrobe fully closed. The grandfather clock ticks distinctly at the end of the room, the reverberation joined by its fellow timepieces, and my waistcoat is folded neatly on my chair. Everything is just as I had left it.

The guilt is eating me alive.

I glance at the grandfather clock, despite the lack of a need to do so. My body has allowed me to rest for six hours, twenty minutes, and seventeen seconds, and so it should be six hours, twenty minutes, and seventeen seconds past midnight. Five hours, thirty-nine minutes, and forty-three seconds until noon. As such, it would be exactly three hours, thirty-nine minutes, and forty-three seconds until the meeting between Maria, Lord Diavolo, and the seven figureheads of the Devildom. If I start to prepare myself now, I should be able to attend to her in exactly thirty minutes.

In conclusion, I would be five minutes late.

My work uniform is folded neatly on my chair, my shoes lined up neatly at the base of it. It is five minutes before I force myself away from the bed -- ensuring I would be exactly thirty-five minutes late -- and thirty minutes for me to prepare for the work day.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me barbatos #obey me oc x barbatos #obey me mc x barbatos #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me writing #obey me fanfic #writing #fanfic #carajillo ii

[grandmalavi]

Moondance, a Marquillo/Serquel fanfiction. My first time writting about these two, so I hope it it isn't too cringy nor extremely OOC. Enjoy! :)

“MOONDANCE”

Raquel found Sergio outside, seating by the beach, bare chested and barefoot underneath the moonlight. Staring at the crashing of the waves, it seemed as if the ocean held all answers to the overthinking going on inside that brilliant mind of his.

He'd sneaked out little after dinner, when she'd been too enthralled in a conversation with Ailyn, the kind Filipina woman he'd hired to help with them with house chores, to properly notice his escape. Once she'd noticed his absence, though, Raquel immediately knew where he'd go— in this pacific island of theirs, there weren't many places to run off to, after all.

She'd left her mother to continue chatting with Ailyn from where she knit by the kitchen table, calm and chatty as the woman rarely was these days. They discovered the sound of one of Sergio's old classic records would have a surprisingly soothing effect over Marivi, and it now played softly at the background as Raquel left the room, travelling upstairs to found Paula already tucked in bed. The little girl flipped curiously through the pages of one of the books Sergio had purchased for her birthday, a month ago, and once her mother sat by her side, Paula filled her ears with excited babble over Harry Potter's newest adventures until finally being convinced into turning the lights off and going to sleep. Smiling at her small form underneath the sheets, Raquel had left a crack of her daughter's door open, so that she'd have that little bit of light coming inside the room the way experience taught her it'd make her feel safer, although the talk around bedtime these days was that nine was too grown up to be afraid of silly monsters anymore.

Then, and only then, Raquel went out in search of the complex, annoyingly withdrawn man she turned out to love— supposing she'd given him the time alone he seemed to need to think, by then.

Their living room double doors opened to a breathtaking view of the ocean, and in specially hot days they'd taken a habit off setting in the comfortable net outside and watching as Paula ran around in the sand with her new Palawan friends. She and Sergio would talk about nothing and everything, swinging pleasantly in the arms of one another while exchanging the silliest smiles, between caresses and kisses that'd leave them both needing and turned on, although much too comfortable with just snuggling innocently in the breeze to move inside and do something about it, at the same time. Their touching would be torturing, but of the best, slow-burning and arousing sort of kind— leaving both flustered and breathless afterwards, often clinging onto one another like high schoolers until the time they'd be alone again would come.

This night, Raquel stood by the doorway while bracing herself against the chilling ocean breeze coming in, her eyes wandering briefly until she found Sergio's familiar form, his slean shoulders bared outside in the cold, although he remained unflinching in face of the waves constantly licking his legs. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over her at how lonely he seemed, she sighed, and without further hesitation started making her way toward him.

Her feet dug into the cool sand, goosebumps lifting all over her arms once she reached the spot where he sat, pushing her wavering hair out of her eyes to stare down at him. Cross-legged, Sergio had his elbows over his knees, not only his jeans soaked by the come and go of the ocean but all the rest of himself, as well. With water drops still glimmering in his skin and his hair damp, glued to his neck, it was clear he went for a night time swim in the freezing cold waters ahead— and, judging by his t-shirt thrown soaked in the sand by his side, not so long ago.

He was clearly freezing, the muscles of his back coiled and tensed, making something ferocious inside Raquel rise, wanting nothing but to wrap herself around him and handle him all the warmth she had. Even so, she held back, finding a fragility in his posture that told her he might recoil, in case she'd do so. And even though her approach hadn't been silent, at all, Sergio didn't seem to notice her presence there until she came to sit by his side, crossed legs underneath her summer dress to mimic his own, her knee coming to brush slightly at his.

At her touch, Sergio straightened suddenly as if struck by electricity, his eyes raising to her face as hers lowered, to find the whiskey glass half filled with wine he cradled between his hands.

He'd rarely drink, unless if to make her company, and something about the fact he found more comfort at the bottom of a glass tonight made her feel all sorts of angry and sad. But looking inside his eyes, stripped off his glasses for the obvious risk of losing them underwater, Raquel found how unsurprisingly sober he was, for despite knowing how this meticulous man she came to know could oddly turn unpredictable sometimes, she also knew he'd never be reckless to the point of entering the ocean drunk off his ass.

No, this… this sounded more like something she'd do, being definitely the impulsive one out of both. The thought made Raquel smile at him, soft and a little bittersweet, wishing deep down she'd muster just enough reasoning to help him cope with whatever bothered him today, exactly the way she knew he'd do for her anytime her feelings made her go a little nuts.

“I really made you a rebel with this swimming in your clothes thing, huh?” she murmurs, tilting her head to the ocean with her smile widening, teasingly “I mean, it's a little late to be freezing my butt out there, but you could've called me to join, no? I can be a little rebel too…”

“Just a little, yes, Inspectora?” Sergio's eyes crinkled as he smiled, shortly and awkwardly, his head ducking at his lap to avoid eye contact “I, well, I wasn't exactly planning on doing it, until… until I-I sort of… Was already there, water on my waist.” he gestured nervously, his hand making as if to push the glasses that weren't there back to the top of his nose “I, you see, I-I had a couple more of these before,” he lifts his glass, swirling the wine “and then I suppose the alcohol must've made me think I wanted to get rid of something very badly, for I threw it at the waves. But as soon as I saw it floating away I regretted it, and let's just say I had to dive in and fish it back on myself…” he shook his head, shyly, looking at her through his lashes with a shrug and a self-deprecating smirk “Not my finest moment, so I'm glad you weren't here to see me destroying the beauty of fully-clothed swimming so pathetically, indeed.”

Raquel's smile faded as he spoke. Frowning, not liking the look in his eyes, she forgot the space she intended on giving him and reached to grab hold of one of his hands in hers, bringing it to her lap. Immediately she realized her instinct to be right, for Sergio's cold fingers squeezed hers quite frantically, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, sort of leaning forward towards her, his eyes sparkling in the reflection the moon provided on the waves.

Oh, my love.

“Sergio, did you get rid of Andrés' watch?”

His features twitched, a grimace of shame, and he nodded “Tried.” his voice was a whisper, that he drowned inside his glass in a nervous gulp of wine. Then, he shook his head, wiping clumsily a drop of water that slid from somewhere around the bridge of his nose, then down his cheek “I-I, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, Raquel. What damn good would've come out of getting rid of the only thing my brother has left me…” he sighed, tremulously, scoffing at himself “My father's watch, Raquel. This old contraption he had restored for me because I'd refuse putting it aside in twenty years, all of it so that I'd have it in time before the heist… so that I'd have 'a second to remind our reasons' on me, he said.” Sergio's whole face scrunched, as if some sort of physical pain cut him from the inside “Same damn thing Dad told me the day he left to die, leaving me this watch so I'd have a piece of him, and since then it's become… It's become this piece of Andrés and that bastard smile of his as well, Raquel, and now it won't probably even work anymore…” he closes his eyes shut, trembling “I-I'm such an idiot-”

“Hey.” Raquel scooted closer to him, passing her arms through his, her chin propped on his shoulder as she tilted her head backwards to meet his eyes “Only I can call my boyfriend that, you hear me?” sighing, she asked softly “Where is it?”

“Over my shirt.” Sergio nodded towards it, and Raquel turned to reach for it. Turning the simple, delicate watch she'd only seen him take off to sleep over in her hands, Raquel saw how he'd attempt to dried it, although droplets of water had inevitably leaked inside it as she tapped its glass, its hands remaining frozen, still marking the same time from about an hour ago. The engraved quote “a second to remind your reasons” shone as she ran her thumb softly over the back of it.

“We'll ask Aylin if she knows any watchmaker in the village to take a look at it later.” she tells him, turning his hand over to set the watch firmly around his wrist, back where it belonged, planting a soft kiss to his palm before resting their joined hands back over her thigh again “But even if it can't be fixed, it doesn't matter.” she entwined their fingers, squeezed his hand “I'm sure your brother wouldn't care, for he gave it to you so that you'd keep on you as a reminder of himself and your father, not as just one more gift. What matters, carinõ, is that it's become important enough for you to make you dive into the ocean at night just to retrieve it back.”

Leaning her cheek to his arm while watching him mull over her words, she felt how cold and damp his skin felt, how he'd punished himself by seating there and letting shivers consume his exposed chest until now.

“Berlim was…” Sergio shook his head, his voice cracking “Sometimes reminding him is… difficult, complicated. I kept… looking at it, today, over and over, and, I-I don't know, Raquel…” he gulped, turning the watch anxiously around his wrist “ It was hard not to replay his death over and over, I suppose, just at the sight of this. It felt simply so… revolting, unfair. Then next thing I new, I'd already launched it at the waves. And at first… at first it made me feel so damn relieved you wouldn't believe it, Raquel. So, so much.” his tone was raspy, strangled, and he squeezed her hand so firmly it hurt “Until I realised, realised… I couldn't. Shouldn't. Immediately, it was as if this stone-shaped weight settled inside me, heavying me all over, a hundred pounds over my shoulders. It made me regret, then go after after it like the moron I am, so fucking ashamed and hoping I could somehow grasp his memory back-”

“Shhhh.” Her heart ached as she attempted a smile at him, rubbing his arm up and down in attempts of lending him a little of her warmth, at least. Feeling her own eyes filling at the sight of Sergio's shining ones, Raquel cradled his face in her hands, blinking her own tears away “You don't have to feel ashamed, you hear me? It's okay for you not to want to suffer nor carry willingly reminders of your losses around, Sergio. Means you're human. Means it's normal for you to want to run away from bad, painful memories, sometimes. It's perfectly okay…”

Sergio rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, pulling Raquel to his chest as a tremulous gasp escaped his lips. She tried to keep her eyes open and watching him, but it was proven impossible as Sergio nuzzled his nose to hers, lips brushing softly against her cheek before he buried his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, releasing what it seemed to be a lifetime held breath, warm and heartfelt, against her skin.

Her eyes drifting closed, Raquel hugged him back and let him drown his sorrow inside her arms.

Very soon this morning, soon as the sun peeked at the horizon, she'd woken up suddenly and for no apparent reason to find herself alone in their bed. Missing the usual feel of Sergio's arms wrapped around herself, she'd sat and turned around to see where he'd went, finding his familiar form observing the sunrise by himself at the beach outside. Knowing the occurrence of his nightmares and troubled sleep the past few days very well by then, for she was the one to comfort him and witness him toss and turn, calling out his brother's name in the night, Raquel assumed he needed to clear his head off but didn't want to wake her up.

Nevertheless, she went after him. And wrapped her arms around him from behind as soon as she was close enough, hands sliding to his chest as she glued herself against his back, being able to feel the deep intake of air he took as soon he felt her touch. She'd earned herself a weak smile, Sergio's larger hands finding and grasping hers thankfully as she hugged him tighter, wishing to able to send all his troubles away with something as simple as her presence, alone. Together they stood, until sun rays colored the sand by their bare feet, orange glowing and outlining their joined bodies in soft warmth.

And then Raquel pulled him back towards the house, Sergio following willingly, wrapping himself all around her in return. Soon they no longer walked, but stumbled upon their unmade bed, falling over the mattress together amidst Sergio's pouring ticklish kisses all over her neck and shoulders and Raquel's breathless, relieved laughing out loud.

Their lovemaking was rushed and intense, a frantic ripping of clothes and ablazing hands exploring exposed skin, until Sergio's hips furiously met hers, coaxing shared gasps of relief out of both. Raquel's pent up desire for his touch made her dig scratches with her nails into his back, such was her pleasure, coaxing him into moving, harder, faster, deepest as possible within every thrust inside her until they both reached a sudden, toe-curling climax almost at the same time. Collapsing above her, Sergio's arms enclosured Raquel in a warm cage in which she immediately melted, his lips pressed against the pulsing hollow of her throat as they both struggled to catch their breath. She smiled in contentment, although briefly, once she noticed how tense and still he rested inside her embrace, silent even as she drew lazy shapes over his back with her fingertips, trying to get some actual words out of his mouth to express what had tormented him so much during the night.

Then, finally, as she felt moisture where his cheek had come to rest right above her heart, Sergio breathed his confession in a harsh whisper “He'd been forty-six today.”

And without further words needed, with her heart sinking, Raquel understood. It torn her how little there was she could actually do for him, but to hug him and feel his pain and let him hold onto her, caressing his hair as his silent tears slid between her breasts.

She'd never got to meet Andrés, besides for that brief and mostly unpleasant encounter with him as Berlim back at the heist, but that morning she and Sergio both fell asleep feeling deeply for his loss at heart.

When she'd woken up again, was to the strong smell of Sergio's cologne filling her senses, once during their sleep he apparently had turned on his side and crushed her to himself at some point, entangling his limbs around her in a death grip. Raquel's face glued to his neck, for she honestly felt hotter within the second against his warm body, but soon she found out she didn't bother much, when it was clear by his slow heartbeats Sergio felt deeply comforted and at peace in their sweaty embrace. She was, in fact, just starting to doze off again, lulled by the sound of his regular breathing, when he released her a bit, clearly awake, to cradle her face in his hands and place a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Good morning.” he'd said, smiling, and with that Raquel thought— wanted to believe— his troubled thoughts had ceased tormenting him, at least for today.

And true to his best abilities of putting up a facade, Sergio managed to convince her pretty well with another kiss and the promise of having breakfast ready for her downstairs, before he'd retrieve his glasses by the nightstand and left her hugging a pillow in lieu of his body, to disappear inside their bathroom displaying a relaxed smile on his face. Through the rest of the day, he never mentioned his brother nor the sorrow he'd expressed freely in her arms that morning again.

Raquel never approached the subject either, knowing that Sergio was bound to shyness and embarrassment if pushed into expressing himself prematurely, especially when the control freak inside him reacted so poorly upon having his emotions on check. And so she went along with his good humor and set about watching him closely, instead.

She laughed along Aylin and her mother's silly conversation topics at the breakfast table while accepting the coffee mug he handled her with a quick peck on the lips, watching him with the same moved gratitude of every day as he walked around her chair to deliver Paula's plate first, a smile opening on his face as the little girl approved soundly of her chocolate chips and bunny-shaped pancakes made out of scratch. Raquel even sneaked by the old piano Sergio had pushed against a corner in their living room, later, leaning onto the instrument in silent awe to observe him coaxing her daughter's enthusiasm into actually sitting and learning a few clumsy notes under his patient guidance. Unsurprisingly, she'd almost embarrassed herself by actually tearing up once Paula eagerly started playing the song they've been practicing for about two months now, Sergio's encouraging murmurs making her little girl smile proudly, seemingly suddenly so attentively and mature Raquel wanted nothing but to hug her tightly and never let her grow up.

But, above all, Raquel felt as if she could actually weep if any of them lifted their eyes from the keys long enough to acknowledge her presence there. Because family was the only word she could think of to describe Sergio's hand on Paula's shoulder and the little girl's clear admirance upon him every time he'd smile approvingly when she'd hit the right notes— the two halves of her heart, merging together into actually loving and caring for each other right there before her eyes.

Not for the first time since she'd brought her family to live in Palawan, Raquel felt deeply thankful for Sergio's willingness into making them a part of his life as well. He was such a different man here amongst them, and little by little she saw how he'd started to reveal new sides of his personality just by interacting with them. He no longer was the Professor nor Salva to her, but Sergio instead, a junction of both personalities into this man worth so much more Raquel could see both her daughter and mother starting to discover— and falling in love— for his true self as well.

Right now, being hugged and hugging him equally fiercely back, Raquel wished their newfound love could be enough balsam to relieve the lost of his loved ones somehow. Almost as if sensing her worry, she felt Sergio's chest expand against hers as he sighed very deeply, cupping the back of her head with both hands before finally releasing her, pulling back. She found pain still there in his face, but his eyes were clear once again, albeit intense, his attention solely focused on her in a way that made Raquel's stomach flutter in unexpected butterflies.

“We should get back inside.” he whispered, his features softer, tender, his hands moving to rub her upper arms “You're starting to freeze.”

"You are the only one freezing here, Professor.” deciding they've loathed over sadness enough for today already, Raquel opened a mischievous smirk at him. Smitten, she stole his glass of wine for herself and tossed her head back, emptying it in two gulps. Licking her lips, she left it behind on the sand, very much enjoying the way Sergio's pupils dilated as he watched her, amused.

“I've learned a long time ago that the best way to warm up is being creative.” she said, then leaned in for a kiss Sergio returned so hungrily she moaned against his mouth, coaxing a frustrated groan out of him as soon as she pulled back, smiling, and giggling got to her feet “You can get your old man's ass back inside later, 'cause right now you owe me a dance, Marquina.” she offered him her hands “Moondance is still my top ten Van Morrison favorite, so if you could, you know, get yourself moving while the moon is still out, that'd be great.”

“They'll have to get this engraved on my tombstone.” Sergio shook his head, smiling “Dead by Raquel Murillo's hands. Poor man couldn't say no, they'll say.”

And he grabbed her hands, stood up, resting his own hands around her waist to nuzzle her neck, feeling finally brought out of his own head there against her, happy and alive.

“Funny. Last night it seemed I was handling you just fine, no?” Raquel whispered by his ear, putting her arms around his neck.

Sergio laughed into her hair “Oh, you've got low tactics, Inspectora. Very low.”

“Anything's fair in love and negotiation, Professor. I didn't invent that.”

“Wrong quote. Great point, though.” he whispered, then nibbled her ear, chuckling when she gasped and pushed her hips automatically against his.

“W-Why aren't we moving?” Raquel stuttered, actually a bit flushed “Dancing and standing aren't the same thing, you know.”

“Oh, I do.” Sergio took one of her hands in his, pulled her closer and pushed back to beam a smug smirk at her “I told you before I never enjoyed dancing, but I did grow up with Andrés by my side, you know. He'd coax me into waltzing him more times than I'd like to admit, and I'll let you know I happened to get very good at it, Murillo.”

He winked at her and started swaying on his feet, gently guiding her along. Unable to stop herself, Raquel smiled wide, gasping and laughing in delight as Sergio unexpectedly spun her around, bringing her breathlessly back to his chest with a laugh of his own.

“You're not so bad, I admit it.” she breathed against his ear, heartbeats happily pounding, her chin over his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she wished they could spend the whole night like this, blissful and lost in their own world.

“Well, I was taught well.” Sergio spun them in lazy circles, putting her messy hair behind her ear “My brother would come back from the dead just to wack me on the head if I'd embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl like you, Inspectora.”

“Pretty girl, huh?”

“Yes, very pretty. Hot, too. Naughty. And oh, so horny sometimes…”

She slapped him playfully on the chest.

“That's a good comment to reflect about on the couch, you know.”

“You think? 'Cause I think some punishing sex would teach me a better lesson-”

She silenced him with a kiss, one that escalated very quickly, up until they stopped swaying to devour each other's mouths, breathing loudly and eating one another's moans, the freezing ocean breeze ignored around them once hands caressed and burned every bit of exposed skin there was to be touched. Sergio was almost lifting off her feet when Raquel pulled back, breathlessly, resisting the need to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Let's get back inside.”

“But I thought you wanted a dance first.” Sergio murmured, showering her jaw line in languid kisses “I was starting to feel rather fond of this new dancing style, to be honest…”

“Sergio.” Raquel protested, faintly and barely audible as her eyes tended to roll every time his mouth touched her skin “Carinõ, I'd love to, but if we keep dancing with your hands wandering in this pace, soon enough both Ailyn and my mother will be able to spot my bare ass from all the way inside the house.” she wrinkled her nose, reminding a few near-misses in her teenage days “And trust me, she wouldn't let us hear the end of it anytime soon…”

“Alright, alright. Back inside.” Sergio sighed, releasing her to gather his shirt from where he'd left it in the sand and hurry back to her side so fast Raquel giggled, before he grabbed her hand and pulled them to the house “Let's go. Don't stop or make eye contact, or else they'll make questions!”

His seriousness made her laugh harder as they entered the house, Sergio pulling her behind himself like a man on a mission. They crossed the living room and went for the stairs like teenagers on a secret relationship, sneaking into the bedroom instead of out of it, while hoping the women inside the kitchen wouldn't catch them on sight. Her mother's sharp instincts, however, were not to be underestimated, and soon they heard her shout:

“Don't forget to dry yourselves, otherwise you'll catch a cold!”

Laughing at Sergio's deer on the highlights looks, Raquel called back “Don't worry, Mamá!”

As she heard Marivi's and Aylin's amused laughter downstairs, Raquel guided a flustered Sergio towards their room, thinking a cold wouldn't be a price so high to pay for all she could've expected from a dance under the moonlight with the man she loved, and more.

#marquillo #sergio marquina #raquel murillo #sergio x raquel #my fic #lcdp 3 #serquel #marquillo/serquel fanfiction #angst/sort of ??

[tcthinecwnself-a]

WHAT SHAPE DOES YOUR PAIN TAKE?

tagged by: @indomitablespirits

tagging: @rewriteshistory​ @hcdgepcdge​ & @bitofthisandthat​

GHOSTS

Your pain takes the shape of ghosts, haunting you, always there. No one would believe you if you told them, or understand even if they did. You don't know how to make them go away, or what they want. They just follow you, casting shadows over all you do, being your fears and the embodiment of all you've lost or are afraid of losing. They can't touch you though... Can they? Due to the number of questions in the comments about what to do about your answer, I've added some strategies that might be helpful on each answer! Find a way to make peace with your ghosts. They want something, whether that's to be remembered or to help you avoid a problem, but they're going about it the wrong way. A lot of people mentioned their ghost being a friend or family member who left in some way, who seems to haunt the present with their absence or guilt of some variety. Others mentioned anxiety that wouldn't leave them alone. For a lost person, try having a goodbye ceremony that's personal to you, whatever you see fit, and no matter how long ago the person left or whether they're still alive. Then try to envision the life you want to have, just you, no other people included for the time being, like your dream job, house, happiness level, etc. Now think... Wouldn't that person want you to have that? Would they want to be the thing stopping you from the life you want? If the answer is yes, they would want that for you, then you should do it both for them and for yourself. If no, they wouldn't want that, are they worth spending your limited lifetime on? Is it worth jeopardizing your future and happiness for someone who doesn't want you to live your best life? 

For anxiety... Find the root. Anxiety is irrational, but it stems from somewhere in life. For me it was a stressful home life that led to worrying about everything from money to loud noises to even having outside activities. And I can't control the anxiety impulses, but I can take a moment to acknowledge them when they happen and be like "Hey, you're here to protect me because in the past making this purchase would lead to someone yelling at me, but things are different now and it's okay. I can buy this." Thinking of the best and worst-case scenario is also helpful sometimes, like with public speaking. Worst thing that can happen? You mess up and look stupid. Maybe get teased about it the next day. Best thing that can happen? It all goes smoothly and I get to feel good about myself. Then I like to mix the two... "I mess up and look stupid, but I get to feel good about myself for going up and doing something scary." It's a healthier mindset and helps me to do things I might not otherwise do.                                                

SEA

You're drowning. A sea of emotions, responsibilities, people, things, everything. You just can't handle it all, you need to escape, but you can't. Even talking to someone and being told it's okay, compliments, nice things people say, it all adds up to drown you further. Guilt, for feeling this way when everyone's being nice and you're not enough. Will you sink or swim?

Due to the number of questions in the comments about what to do about your answer, I've added some strategies that might be helpful on each answer! 

Number one thing... Is you need a way to vent. You start to drown when you internalize everything and it eventually becomes too much to bear. Paint an image that represents your feelings, dance your heart out, write down everything that's bothering you and on your mind and then burn/rip up the paper, talk to someone, have a good cry in the shower and just acknowledge everything you're feeling. Get it out somehow, and you'll feel better. And find a way to consistently get it out, don't let it build up to your breaking point before you do anything about it. For me that's dance classes, I go almost on a daily basis and put all my feelings into whatever choreography or practice I do and let each movement let out any anger, sadness, jealousy, fear, or other pent up emotions. 

#Jigen | headcanons | #Wirt | headcanons | #;dash games #wow wirt's is spot on huh?????? #jigen's advice would go in one ear & out the other tbh #he'd much prefer to ignore the ghosts then help them or let them help him #long post

[sevensstories]

I Thought I Knew You Chapter 4: Day 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Husker, Nifty, Cherri Bomb, Fat Nuggetz Ships: Radiodust slowburn Updates: Maybe every Thursday depending on my schedule Warnings: Alcohol mention, drug mention, mature content, mature language

Chapter 1: House Arrest Chapter 2: Contraband Chapter 3: Day 1  Chapter 4: Day 2 You Are Here

Read it on AO3, or just read under the cut!

Author’s Note: It’s my birthday today! I know this is supposed to go up on Thursday, but I wanted it up today so the comments would be like a little gift to myself. Don’t worry though, there will still be another chapter on Thursday so stay tuned!

Mistakes had been made.

Why did he think making a deal like that was a good idea? What if he lost ? He certainly didn’t want to uphold his end if he did, but considering they had made a demon deal of all things he wouldn’t exactly have much of a choice. This had been a bad idea from the start, and he was kicking himself for ever thinking of it.

Alastor briefly wondered if Angel Dust had the same regrets.

He was pacing in his room, and had been for at least half the night. This seemed as good a time as any to consider his options. Normally Alastor wouldn’t be worried about Angel Dust possibly making it through a full month. He had no impulse control to speak of, and even if he did, he wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer and thinking over any consequences before he acted wasn’t likely. However, one thing Alastor didn’t doubt was Angel Dust’s dedication to making Alastor as uncomfortable as possible.

And Alastor had gone and made a very lopsided deal that was sure to do just that.

The way Alastor saw it, Angel Dust didn’t stand to lose much. From the way he spoke, he was still on wonderful terms with Valentino. To be entirely honest, Alastor wasn’t even entirely sure why he bothered to stay in the hotel in the first place. Boredom, perhaps? It was difficult to imagine Angel Dust sharing any motives similar to his own, but it was certainly possible. Whatever his reasoning may be, it didn’t seem as if he would face any real consequences if he lost.

Alastor, on the other hand…

He was sure attempting to purchase Angel Dust’s contract would result in nothing less than an all out war with Valentino. Though the likes of Valentino didn’t exactly worry Alastor, that didn’t mean he had the time to deal with such conflict. To make matters worse, he wasn’t sure what he would do with the contract once he acquired it. Given Valentino’s status, he was sure it was something far more binding than simple pen and paper. That would imply it to be unnecessarily difficult to dispel, even for the likes of Alastor. If he had to spend the rest of his eternity with Angel Dust following him around like some kind of lost puppy, he wasn’t entirely sure his sanity would be able to handle it.

Truth be told, he would never had made the deal had he thought it through. He had expected for Angel Dust to ask for something ridiculous, such as drugs or… other things Alastor would rather not think about. He was not at all expecting something so calculated, so long term . So when Angel Dust asked for Alastor to purchase his contract, he had felt so put on the spot that he had agreed without thinking. And oh, what a mistake that had been. He had been able to hide his concern at first, but the more he thought about it the more he realized he had put himself in a bit of a bind.  

A knock at his door startled him to attention. He looked up, halting the loud radio static and screeching he hadn’t been aware he was emitting. He hesitated only a moment before speaking, giving him time to compose himself. “Yes?”

“Alastor?” Charlie’s voice came from the other side of the door. Of course it was Charlie. “I was just coming to check on you, normally you’re up by now. Are you okay?”

Up by now? A glance to his pocket watch showed it was nearly nine in the morning. He had been pacing far longer than he realized, it was a wonder he hadn’t worn a path into the floorboards.

“I’m perfectly alright, my dear.” The lie was effortless, as they always were. “I was just preoccupied with a…” Well, maybe not effortless. He did have to take a split second to think of something, he just hoped Charlie didn’t notice. “...aaa lesson plan for Angel Dust! Yes, I believe I’ve come up with just the thing to get him through this… difficult time.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” From the excitement lacing her tone, it was safe to say she hadn’t noticed a thing. “I can’t believe I was worrying, you’re always such a great help! I’ll leave you to it!”

His sensitive ears twitched slightly as he listened to her footsteps fade down the hallway. Well, that was one crisis avoided. With that, he supposed it was time to leave his room. As much as he could pace and fret over this all day, he really didn’t have the time. More importantly, he couldn’t let Angel Dust know he had any doubts. The key to winning this was confidence, and in that category it would seem the two of them were nearly equally matched. If Angel Dust knew Alastor was even the slightest bit concerned, it could turn the tables of their deal faster than Alastor would be able to stop them. If he were honest with himself, the only way to really guarantee a win would be sabotage.

He froze mid-step, his eyes widening. Oh. Oh that wasn’t a bad thought at all. Sabotage would certainly get the job done, as dirty as it was. If he could tempt Angel Dust into giving up on this whole ordeal and indulging in sin, as was his nature, Alastor was certain he would fail within days.

It would seem he hadn’t lied to Charlie after all. He really was going to come up with lesson plan for Angel Dust, just not one that worked in his favor. Alastor materialized a pad and pen in his hands, furrowing his brows in thought. Now, what exactly would guarantee his victory? Angel Dust was very easily tempted, that much was easy to tell, but the key to this was to nail down his specific triggers and desires. Desires were simple enough, he clearly loved nothing more than to muddle his mind with drugs, liquor, and positively atrocious activities. But why? That was the important part.

If Alastor had to guess, it was more than likely due partially to low self-esteem. Someone seeking that much notice clearly needed it, and it was no secret that Angel Dust got a fairly significant amount of gratification from attention, positive or otherwise. So, in theory, without said attention he should seek to drown his sorrows with whatever means necessary. That was simple enough, seeing as how Angel Dust wasn’t even allowed to leave the hotel without approval. But would it be enough? And even if it was, Alastor hadn’t exactly left him with any means to break the rules of their little arrangement. He may have been to thorough in his impromptu room search. Luckily for him, that was simple enough to fix. He opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand, finding the bag of contraband he had stashed there two days prior. It was filled with drugs, alcohol, and… other items. Surely at least one of these would be enough to tempt Angel Dust into the familiar hold of sin and indulgence once more, thus delivering Alastor to success.

Alastor dumped the bag out on his floor, sitting to sort through it all. He separated the drugs and the alcohol, but elected to leave the tools where they lied. There was no need to touch them a second time, he had had to take a rather long shower to feel clean again after the first time. Now, what out of these three would tempt Angel Dust the most? He couldn’t very well go giving him everything, he had to make it seem as if the item had been overlooked in his initial search. If he put too many things back, or even just something too big, it would give away his scheme and he couldn’t have that. No, he needed plausible deniability, especially if he intended to stay at this Hazbin Hotel. Something small…

He briefly glanced over the various substances, but he had a nagging feeling those may not be the best idea. There weren’t many of them, and considering they had all been stuffed in the floorboards it would be difficult to make it look as if some had been left behind on accident. The tools, on the other hand… he hesitated before he shifted his gaze over to the various toys, more than he was sure even Angel Dust knew what to do with. There were a handful of smaller ones, it wouldn’t be hard to believe that one of them had been left under some furniture or something of that nature. Even better, if it was something small Alastor would imagine it would be rather difficult to get any real gratification. Horrible disappointment and having to leave the hotel for good? Now that would be satisfying to watch.

He considered a moment before gingerly picking up a small, pink one with an odd shape to it. He had no idea how it worked or what its purpose was, but he supposed it didn’t really matter. What mattered was it would tempt the harlot right into failure. Planting it should be easy enough, he could waltz right into Angel Dust’s room as he pleased. He would come up with a, aehm, lesson plan, walk in to inform Angel Dust and go over the main points, and casually slip the toy somewhere inconspicuous. He stood and slipped the item into his pocket, making a mental note to burn this particular coat later and get himself a new one. Now all that was left to do was create the lesson plan. Figuring out the exact triggers to make Angel Dust relapse wouldn’t be an easy feat, but he had a feeling Charlie would have more than enough information on him to at least get him started.

Alastor would just have to pay her a little visit.

#hazbin hotel #radiodust #alastor #angel dust #itiky #i thought i knew you #happy birthday to me #I couldn't help myself #I was gonna just do a oneshot but its not done yet #so yall get this #its a short chapter though so there's that at least #sevensstories #whysoseven

[elizabethemerald]

Dreams of Drowning: Chap 5

Jim’s mom is now safe. But the questions that have been raised need to be answered. 

Please reblog if you like!

AO3 

Jim sat alone in his apartment. His thoughts whirled around his head. So much had changed in just the past couple of weeks. He had gotten a new job, met an amazing girl, helped save his mom’s life. It was almost comical when he thought about it that way. Of course the more accurate way to describe it was he got a new job that required daily backbreaking labor due to being short handed at a research facility that apparently held a goddess captive. That same goddess had entered his dream and tried to drown him. Then she had possessed his mother so she could use her control of water to beat the shit out of some thugs and almost drowned one. Wasn’t quite as funny when he thought it that way. 

Claire had said she would be mostly absent for a while. It was true he hadn’t seen her in his dreams since that night, but he wouldn’t say she was absent. He swore he could feel her presence. Ever since she had grabbed his hand while in his mom’s body, he could feel her at the edge of his mind. Like a familiar song playing the next room over. She was there if he concentrated. If he needed her, he knew he would only have to close his eyes and see her. 

A sharp knock at the door drew him out of his thoughts. He quietly padded over to the door of his apartment. He carefully checked through the peep hole. After what happened to his mom he couldn’t be too cautious. 

At first all he could see was a someone holding a stack of boxes. Then the person shifted the boxes and Jim could see Toby’s face. He smiled to himself and opened the door. Toby unceremoniously shoved a stack of specimen cases into Jim’s arms then turned and grabbed another stack. 

“What’s with all this, dude?” Jim said incredulously. The cases were filled with sorted stones, each with careful labels. “Why did you bring your whole rock collection?”

Toby moved past him and shot him an annoyed look. “We both know this isn’t my whole collection.”

“Ok, then what are they?”

“Well apparently magic exists. You’ve got a psychic lady in your head, and she tried to drown you and I, but didn’t because we aren’t ass holes. She knocks you out to talk to you in your dreams and possessed your mom so she could trash some douchebags. Did I sum it all up pretty well?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well I’ve been working at 49B for a while now. Remember how I told you, when I first was going to get you a job, my whole thing is they slap a rock in front of me and ask me what it is? And sometimes the rock glows?”

Jim nodded while Toby set his stack of boxes on the dining room table. Toby quickly sorted the boxes moving different collections around the table top. Whatever system he was using to sort was completely beyond Jim’s understanding of geology. Eventually his hands stilled. 

“I think the people there think I’m stupid. That I’m naive. They would put all kind of weird rocks on my desk, things that defied all chemical analysis, had properties that I had never seen before. I would tell them as much about the rocks as I could. What properties the minerals could or rather should have. But I knew there was something up about them. So I kept them to see if I could puzzle them out. I just didn’t know magic existed. Now I do. And I want to look over these gems and minerals to see if any are.”

Toby looked at his collection for a second. Then turned back to Jim. 

“But first I have a couple more questions about all this.” When Jim nodded, Toby took a deep breath. “Why did she try to kiss you when she was in your mom’s body?”

“Uhh, ha ha.” Jim hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his head. “I think we might be dating? Or something? I’m definitely in love with her. And she’s blown me kisses a few times, in my dreams. Maybe this was the first time she was actually able to give me a kiss?”

“You have a psychic girlfriend, who you’ve only seen in your dreams.”

“I saw her in person once!” Jim protested both the implication and the tone in Toby’s voice. 

“Honestly if I hadn’t seen it myself I would say you were making her up. Like a girlfriend in Canada.” Toby laughed, then grew serious. “Now my second question. How did your psychic girlfriend know my wife was pregnant before she did?”

“I-what?”

“I came home after checking in with my Nana. And Darci had just purchased a couple of pregnancy tests. She hadn’t used them yet. When she did they tested positive. All of them. Darci’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father.” Toby’s voice swelled with pride. 

“Oh congrats! That’s amazing dude!”

“Yes it is. I’m hoping you will cook something amazing for the baby shower. But back to my question. How did your psychic girlfriend know my wife was pregnant? The last thing she said before she disappeared was ‘tell your wife congratulations.’ How did she know?”

“I guess it’s the psychic part of the psychic girlfriend?” Jim said weakly. But then he thought for a moment. “Claire first sensed me when I first made her food. I hadn’t changed the recipe at all yet, so maybe she was able to feel something from the food? And then she must have known about Darci, because of your dream and I dreamed about her too. She was able to sense my mom was in danger after taking me into her dream last week.”

Toby nodded while Jim continued to think. “So psychic network or something like that?”

“Yeah.” Jim shrugged. “That makes as much sense as any of my theories.”

“OK, not the best answer in the world, but better than nothing. Now I think some of the stones and minerals they put on my desk are probably magical. Take a look at these and tell me what you think.”

Jim looked over the rocks. There was green gem cut to show off beautiful facets, a stone that shown like a drop of sunlight. He gasped and grabbed a stone out of one of the boxes. The stone had an orange-red glow. His eyes shown as he looked at the stone. 

“This one is magic.” Jim said with a sudden certainty. Toby looked at the rock for a second. 

“But how do you know?” He asked. 

“Can’t you feel it? It’s warm, I can feel it almost has a heart beat!” Jim said staring at the stone. There was a pulsing warmth to it. He swore he could feel an energy coming off the stone. Toby pulled the label from the spot the stone had been sitting in and scratched out the name and quickly wrote in a new name. 

“Ok, Heartstone it is.” Toby said. “What properties would you guess it has?”

Jim looked closely at the stone, holding it tight. “Probably healing, rejuvenation. Things like that. It just feels good.”

Toby took the stone out of Jim’s hand and put it back in it’s case. Jim couldn’t help but feel disappointed as the stone left his hand. Toby was carefully writing in a notebook, then he pulled out another sample.  

“This one is chemically identical to the Heartstone, but obviously different.” The stone was cold and gray. Jim picked it up and his disappointment grew. It felt much like the other stone, but just a ghost of that feeling. 

“This is the same thing as the Heartstone. Just...dead? Like all the warmth got sucked out of it. It feels uncanny, like it’s not supposed to be that way.”

Toby scribbled in his notes. He also changed the name plate to Dead Heartstone

“That was one of the first things they gave me when I first started working there. They wanted me to identify it. And they also asked if I could reenergize it? I had no idea what that meant. Does it make any sense to you?”

Jim held the Dead Heartstone in his hand as he mulled it over. He wasn’t sure how, but he could feel the difference between the two. He just couldn't think of how to get this one back to how it should be. 

As he pondered, he thought of Claire. The feeling she left him with every time he saw her. The look on her face when she saw him. A warm feeling flowed through him. On impulse he focused on that warm feeling and breathed out onto the gem. 

Toby gasped as an orangish glow breathed out onto the stone. It flashed dully for a second before it faded. Jim turned to face his friend, both their mouths were hanging open. Toby was the first to recover himself. 

"So your psychic girlfriend gave you magic powers?" Toby's voice was high with shock. Jim could only stare, his eyes wide. 

"But it didn't stay?"

Toby took the piece out of his hand. "Keep practicing, maybe you'll get better. Now take a look at this one."

Jim was focusing on what he had done. Had Claire somehow given him magic powers? But that magic wasn't anything like hers. He put out his hand to accept the next sample. 

Toby dropped the stone into his hand and Jim was filled with such extreme revulsion. It was worse than if Toby had dropped a live squid, a massive spider or a dog turd in his hand, worse than all three at once even. The revulsion overpowered his senses and his reasoning. 

Jim dropped the rock like it had burned him and jumped back away from the table. He stumbled almost blind to the kitchen and came up with one of his knives in his hand, held defensively. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Jimbo, buddy, you ok?" Toby was keeping a slight distance from his knife wielding friend. His hands were up placatingly. 

Jim's hands shook as he returned his knife to the knife block. He looked at the hand that had held the strange rock. There was no mark or residue but he couldn't resist the urge to wash his hands. 

He pushed his hands under the steaming water, scrubbing them furiously. He washed his hands mindlessly for several minutes, reapplying soap multiple times, even grabbing the kitchen sponge to scrub them. He was startled out of his hand washing by Toby grabbing him in a side hug. 

"I'm sorry I had you touch that thing."

"Its ok." Jim said shortly. 

"It very obviously is not. I haven't seen you like this since high school. Remember when your mom's clinic had that code black? You couldn't get a hold of her and you skipped right over stress cooking to trying to scrub the skin off your hands?"

"I'm not trying to scr-" Jim looked closer at the growing stain on his hands he was trying to wash off and realized the stain was a raw patch, already red and chapped from the sponge. Without giving it another look Jim tossed the sponge in the trash. "Please don't make me touch that thing again."

"Don't worry, you can keep your distance." Toby was scrabbling under Jim's sink and came out a moment later with a pair of rubber gloves. He put them on and carefully picked up the strange rock. Jim kept his distance, and tried to fight the rising queasiness, as he tried to put the feeling into words. 

"It feels almost like the Heartstone, but like the complete opposite?" Jim noticed he was subconsciously rubbing his hand on his pants. He stopped himself with difficulty. "Like the Dead Heartstone felt exactly like the living one, just less. Like it had been drained away. But that one is the opposite, warmth replaced with cold, comfort replaced with…"

Jim struggled for a second to put into words the extreme feeling that had overcome him. While he talked Toby was packing the crystal away. Even in appearance the stone was the opposite of the Heartstone. It was black with sickly veins running through it. Toby wrapped the stone in several layers of paper, then a foil he pulled out from one of his cases and finally it went into alarge box. 

"Don't worry dude, I got a pretty good idea of the emotion you were trying to describe.” Toby finished packing the stone away and threw away the gloves he had been wearing. Jim breathed out a sigh of relief once it was gone and sat down heavily at this table. He watched as Toby took the placard and scratched out the old name and changed it to Corrupted Heartstone. He looked at the placard for a moment, tapping his pen against his lip. “Odd.”

“What’s odd? Other than magic rocks I guess.”

“You said this is the exact opposite of the Heartstone. Where the Heartstone heals this one hurts.” Toby paused, thinking hard. “But this one is synthetic.”

“What?”

“It’s man made. Presumably in the lab downstairs at 49-B. So that means someone created a compound either on purpose or on accident that harms people. Specifically magical people.”

Jim blanched at the thought. The feeling of revulsion in his mind would be hard to forget. If 49B created the stone to hurt people with magic, what could they be doing to Claire? So many thoughts whirled through his head. He would have to do something to help her. Whatever it took. 

“Toby, how do you feel about doing something illegal?” Jim asked. 

“With my wife pregnant I’m going to have insist that we have some kind of plan. I know that’s not like me, but I’d rather not spend my child’s formative years in prison.”

“Understandable.” Jim thought for a second. “Speaking of which you aren’t going to store the corrupted stone near your kid are you?”

The thought of a child growing up near that stone filled Jim with a sudden terror. 

“Don’t worry. I have some contacts up in Washington, near Hanford. They’ll make sure this thing disappears and is never found again.”

Toby started packing up his rock collection. Jim guessed he didn’t want to trigger another freakout. He couldn’t blame him. As he did so, one of the rocks caught his attention. It was a blue stone wrapped in a silver metal. 

“Wait what is that?” Jim said pointing to it. 

“No idea.” Toby said picking it up and tossing from hand ot hand. “I don’t even know what the metal here is. It has a lot of weird physical properties. But we don’t have to worry about this one. It’s not one of the ones the researchers gave me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I actually had this one since we were kids. I found it in a pile of rubble in the canals one day. It’s not related. I’m not even sure it’s magic.”

Jim’s eyes lit up. He stared at the stone wide eyed, holding out his hand for it. Toby hesitated for a moment before handing over the strange rock. As Jim grabbed it he could feel power flowing through him. He held it, turning it this way and that, his eyes shining. 

“It’s kind of cool, if you shine a light through it looks like daylight.” Toby said. 

“Daylight…” Jim breathed deeply as the words seemed to come to him. “Is mine to command.”

It felt like a bomb went off. There was a roar of power but only Toby and Jim reacted, nothing else in the apartment moved. Blue light flowed out of the rock, burning it’s way up and down Jim’s body. When the fire receded he was covered, head to toe in a silvery metallic armor. He looked at his hands and the armor there. He made eye contact with Toby, whose jaw was sitting on the ground. 

“That...that… that is so Cool!!” Toby said jumping up and running around him.   Jim laughed and clenched his hand into a fist. He could feel power coursing through his veins, just like every time he interacted with Claire, he could feel power radiating off of her. He put out his hand and white light blasted out shaking the room. 

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Toby spun in a little circle. “This like some magical destiny shit right here!”

“Yeah.” Jim said. He looked at the armor that was covering him. And he thought of the woman who was chained up in 49B. Maybe with this he could free her. He could feel the magic singing through his body, creating a chorus with Claire’s magic that had sat at the edge of his mind. In his mind’s eye he could see his blue fire dancing with her purple water. “I think you’re right.”

#jim lake jr #toby domzalski #claire nunez #Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #dreams of drowning #writing emerald #always send me asks about this wip #i'd love to talk more about all of this

[howrry]

malibu

i wanna be a writer™ so i wrote this on a whim. enjoy

warning: smut lmao

w/c: 2.7k

You flipped through your Snapchat stories, tapping through videos of your girlfriends dancing in cages at some bar. They'd all invited you to go, but frankly spending money on the cover fee and overpriced, watered-down drinks (only to end up sweating off all your makeup) was starting to get kind of old. And it wasn't exactly like the selection of men in those places was worth all the hassle.

For a brief moment, you wonder what your best friend H is up to, before quickly remembering that he's with his girlfriend Anya. He'd mentioned a few days prior that they'd be going to some house party (which, of course, you mocked him for. Who goes to house parties after 20?).

You liked Anya. She was beautiful yet multifaceted-- she loved playing all kinds of instruments and even impressed you by effortlessly playing a song on a harp that was out at a work get-together. You also learned of her passion for animals, as she'd spent her youth working in and out of animal shelters. She was kind and warm, much like Harry, and her sense of humor was impeccable. She even respected your friendship with H and trusted the both of you. It wasn't often that you supported H's girlfriends, but you really thought he'd hit the nail on the head with her.

You often wondered why you were so critical of his past partners. This one has no fashion sense, that one is too judgmental of H's friends, that one eats a paleo diet and won't shut up about it, on and on. Your other male friends would bring home the trashiest mean girls and you'd high five them like some kind of frat boy, yet you expected some level of perfection with Harry. For the most part, you chalked it up to being so close with him and knowing what he truly deserves. As far as you knew, he deserved Anya.

The marimba tone of your phone spooked you, and you checked it seeing Harry's face pressed up against glass.

"If ya take a picture like this and make it my contact photo, it'll look like 'm trapped in your phone when I call yeh!" He'd giddily explained before smashing his face against the shop window. You couldn't imagine the shop owner was thrilled about having to clean the glass, so you snapped it as quickly as possible before dragging your best friend away.

You smiled at the memory and slid your finger across the screen to answer the call. "Hey, what's up?" you asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with water with your phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

"Can we hang t'night?" he muttered without any other introduction.

Your brows furrowed. "Sure, but aren't you supposed to be with An--"

"Change o'plans," he cut you off. "Your place, ten minutes?"

"Sure. See you soon, H." The call cut off before you could even take the phone from your ear. Harry has always been a fast-paced person so you didn't really think much of this.

You drained your glass of water and did some lazy tidying up (not that H would've minded either way, he tended to be just as messy as you). The whole ten minutes hadn't even passed before you heard the powerful knocks at your apartment door.

Upon opening it, he immediately stepped in and engulfed you in a big hug, something not uncommon for him. "How y'doing?"

You pulled away and smiled. "Same as I was earlier today when you called me." You turned around and went back into your living room, him trailing behind you. "Not much excitement going on here, but I figured we could watch Gossip Girl or sommat," you offered, smirking a little. You had shown the series to him a few weeks ago, to his initial disgust.

"It's a bit garbage, don't ya think? It's like New York wankin' itself off," he reprimanded when you'd first suggested it to him. "The plot's fine but its just not realistic. Nobody invests that much time or energy into someone for the sake of gossip." You were ready to accept defeat with this failed recommendation until the next day you walked in on him watching it without you, much to H's chagrin.

"Sounds good, but do you have somethin' t'drink?" he asked, taking off his coat and scarf before tossing them on one of the chairs.

"Water, cranberry juice, I think I have a LaCroix that you left in there last week I refuse to touch..." you listed things that you remember having available, making him smile a little.

"No, no, somethin' more... adult-oriented?" he clarified, following you into the kitchen.

You couldn't help but laugh at his word choice. "I killed off the last of the wine a couple nights ago, but I think I have some Malibu left over, if that's okay?"

His eyebrows knitted together as he leaned back on the counter, arms spread out a little. "Malibu? What are yeh, a little uni party girl?"

"Piss off. You want it or not?" you asked, pulling the handle out of your pantry and presenting it to him like a fancy wine bottle.

Harry bounced off the counter and wrapped his arms around you yet again. "M'sorry, and yes, I would. I'll get the glasses." He knew exactly where all your dishes were and grabbed two identical shot glasses you bought out of impulse. Neither of you two were heavy shot-takers and would rather sip glasses of Chablis and moscato than pound back liquor, but sometimes, like this evening, the purchase proved worth it.

Harry was bartender this evening, and the two of you each tossed back three in a row before you were coughing and scrambling for the aforementioned cranberry juice as a chaser. You drank the juice straight from the bottle while in the meantime, your best friend took two more.

You wiped the juice that had spilled down your chin with the back of your hand and yanked the handle away from him before he could pull another. "Jesus, Harry, slow down. What's with you tonight?"

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, rubbing his face with his big hands. He took the juice from you and drank some from the bottle just like you did. "Just needed t'get my mind off of work n'life n'whatnot."

"Drowning it in white rum is definitely not the best method. Wanna talk about it?" You screwed the cap back on both the juice and the Malibu and put both away in their respective spots before leading Harry back to the couch.

"Not really. Jus' wanna watch the show." He didn't say much after that, but you trusted him to open up when he was ready, so you didn't push him much further.

Your seating arrangement was fairly normal, Harry taking one side of the small couch and spreading his legs. You sat on the left of him and tucked your knees to your chest as you queued up the episode Victor, Victrola.

Without saying anything, Harry grabbed both your legs and turned you so that your legs were on his lap, making you squeal a little in surprise. This position was tried and true between you and Harry, but it had been retired since Anya came into the picture. While a tiny part of you missed the physical touch between you and your best friend, most of you respected the relationship H had. Afraid of freaking him out and making him push you off, you didn't say anything about this sudden change.

"Y/N, get upppppp," he groaned, attempting to pull the blankets off of you. Fortunately, your death grip on your comforter prevented him from exposing you to your room's cold air.

"I'm tired, and it's so cold out. The park is not going anywhere!" you groaned right back, pushing your face into the pillows even more to block out the sunlight Harry'd introduced to the room when he opened your curtains.

"Okay, then." Harry quite literally jumped into bed with you and wrapped his entire body around you, burying his face in your neck. You cried out at his freezing nose pressing into your warm skin and tried to wriggle away from him, but it was his turn to have a death grip, this time on you. "Nope, not lettin' yeh go now. Wanna stay in bed? Fine, you'll stay in bed."

The two of you watched in silence, but you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His face was fairly neutral, fixating on the screen with not much visible emotion.

"'S not polite to stare," he muttered, not drawing his eyes away from Blair giving Chuck a dance in the night club.

You inhaled sharply through your nose. "It's also not polite to hide what's wrong from your best friend," you countered, reaching up and turning his head to face you.

He sighed. "Jus' a lot on my mind. Thanks fo' letting me come over, means a lot." He pushed a ring-clad hand through his dark hair to get it out of his face.

"'Course, Harry, that's what I'm here for," you smiled, which you quickly lost when you realized he was leaning in to you. Your best friend, who very much had a girlfriend, was leaning in for a kiss.

You put your entire hand on his face to stop his movements. "What are you doing?" you asked slowly, emphasizing each word. Your hand slowly dropped, and your thumb caught his bottom lip, making it pull down and pop back into place.

"Didn't know yeh were so foreign to the concept, but I'm trying' t'kiss you," he cooed, "and maybe a little more," his big hand gripped your thigh and started sliding inwards, a move that crossed a boundary the two of you had never even come close to.

Once again, your hand stopped his advancements. "Harry, you're drunk, and you have a girlfriend!" You tried to get up off the couch but he grabbed your legs and pulled you even closer to him.

"T'be completely fair, you're drunk too," he giggled, pushing his hair off his face again (and damn him if he wasn't right). "And I don't have a girlfriend anymore."

You reared your head back in shock. "What? When did that happen?"

He shrugged. "Was at a party tonight and I lost her, so when I went looking for her I caught her making out with... with Clare," he spat.

You gasped. "Clare?! I didn't... but I thought... she--"

"Doesn' matter what we thought 'cause we were wrong," he cut you off. "But now that I don't have to worry about tha', all I can think about is how much I wanna kiss you."

You sighed, weighing your options. "You're sure this isn't a heartbroken rebound?" you asked, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

He lifted to kiss it, leaving a small wet patch. "'M not that heartbroken anymore, was just in shock. Besides, if it was that, I wouldn't have come here," he paused to stroke your cheek with his free hand. "You mean too much to me to be a rebound." He'd almost seemed disgusted at the idea of you being something so quick and meaningless.

You smiled softly and looked down at your lap, but he caught your chin and lifted you back up. You barely had time to react when he pushed his plushy lips against yours.

He tasted like rum and mint, and his lips were so soft you couldn't help but lean in more. One of his arms snaked around the small of your back and pulled you in closer so you were now fully sitting on his lap. You wrapped one of your arms around his neck and his mouth opened, giving you access to his tongue. The kiss deepened even more, and you decided to get a little bold.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you were just drunk on Harry, but your teeth grabbed onto his bottom lip gently and pulled it back before letting go, leaving him pink-cheeked and wide-eyed. "Darling, please, you must let me do more," he croaked, his voice a little hoarse from kissing.

You simply nodded and whispered, "My bedroom?" before he scooped his arms under you and carried you to the bed and tossed you on it.

In two swift moves, he removed your shirt and popped the hooks on your bra, leaving you bare-chested. He didn't have to break the kiss to wiggle down your shorts and underwear, and before you knew it, you were completely naked in front of your best friend. Or, whatever you were now.

The fact that it was Harry was absurd enough, but him being ten times more clothed than you left you feeling surprisingly comfortable. With any other guy, at this point, you'd be awkwardly tugging at his clothes to level the playing field, but you felt no such urges at this point.

And neither did Harry, apparently, as he immediately began kissing and sucking at any skin he could get his lips on, leaving you with wet patches and small hickies all over your chest and neck. Eventually, he sat back on his heels straddling your thighs and was carefully running his hands up your entire body. He started at the sides of your thighs before trailing them up to the swell of your lower belly, up to your breasts (his callouses stimulating your nipples but you managed not to arch your back), to your collarbones and finally resting on your jaw.

You were never quite relaxed when this kind of gaze fell on you, but with your closest friend you'd never felt so comfortable in your life. You smirked a little before asking, "What are you doing?"

He smiled back. "You're just so beautiful. Never though' I'd have you like this 'n now that I do I can barely believe it."

You were touched, but before you could reply he was moving his way back to part your thighs, exposing your center to the cold bedroom air. Harry took his time kissing around your legs, intentionally avoiding the one place you needed contact the most. You moaned softly and started giving into that earlier urge to arch your back, and, hey, who was Harry to deny what you so needed?

He gave no warning before diving into your center, eating with an inexplicable passion. He experimented with what elicited more sounds from you, from flat, soft licks to pointed strokes of his tongue. One of his hands snaked up to play with your breasts while the other held your hand, interlocking your fingers in a way that was almost sweet. Your free hand, however, wasn't quite as pure, as you laced it into his dark curls and used it as a method of grinding down onto his mouth.

"'S right, darling, use me t'get yourself off," he moaned into your pussy, making you gasp.

The sounds coming from Harry and his actions was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and you were so overwhelmed you could barely choke out, "I'm so close, Harry."

This, of course, only spurred him on as his hand left your breast and trailed down to your core. He slipped in two fingers and hooked them up, fully pushing you into your orgasm. You moaned and arched into him and he didn't stop eating until you were trying to pull him off of you by his hair. When you lifted his head with the hand gripping his hair, he came up with a lazy smile on his face, almost childlike. His chin was dripping with your slick.

You were still heaving by the time he crawled back up to lie next to you. "Do you... do you want me to--" you tried to ask in your post-orgasmic haze.

He shook his head. "Nothin' personal, love, but 've had a lot t'drink 'n don't think I could get it up right now," he mumbled before settling into the bed next to you. You couldn't even ask anything else before you heard the soft snoring of your best friend next to you.

Wow, he was really drunk. And, best friend? Was he really that anymore? Could you two even be friends after this? You finally decided that these were morning questions and you'd answer them tomorrow. Imagine your shock, of course, when you woke up the next day and felt around your bed only to find sheets and cold air and no sign of Harry.

#harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles #how do you tag these wtf #harryforvogue #jawllines #haroldloverboy #there ya go ig

[bisexualray]

Yooseven Week - Day 3

Ceremony | Confessions

Note: This takes place during Jaehee’s good ending, before the events of days 1 and 2! It’s Seven’s love confession. And since I’m writing it there’s angst and another misleading preview. But there’s also friendship and awkward crush fluff.

Pairings: Yoosung/707, mentioned Jaehee/MC

Word Count: 2k+

ao3 | masterpost

previous | next

@yoo7week

“I spy with my little eye... something... purple.”

Yoosung giggled, giving him a joking glare.

“My eyes?”

Seven forced a smile and laughed, running a hand through his hair, anxious and regretful thoughts brewing in his mind.

“Maybe.”

/

They could've been doing better things than playing I Spy in the hallway at the RFA party, especially considering the fact that they were RFA members, who guests wanted to meet, and the game was quickly getting boring.

They’d already spent some time greeting guests before Jaehee and MC ran off to discuss their new business, Jumin was nowhere to be seen and Zen was stolen by his fan club, along with V not being at the party in the first place, leaving Yoosung and Seven all alone.

Seven had a problem and that didn’t really help to solve it.

He leaned against the wall next to Yoosung, crossing his arms out of boredom and glancing from place to place to find something for his turn. Nothing stood out, and the only things that did were already used. An empty, mundane hallway that led to the game becoming dull.

He glanced to the side and locked eyes with Yoosung, bright purple eyes, and the feeling was sent straight to his heart, beating faster, rapidly increasing.

On impulsion he said he saw something purple.

Shit, shit, shit!

He felt a low flame in his stomach at the sound of Yoosung’s laugh, and he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

He decided, in a frivolous version of what he’d always been told as a hacker, that crushes were stupid.

/

“I spy with my little eye... something red!”

Kill me now.

Seven had a problem and that didn’t really help to solve it.

The problem was he couldn’t even play I Spy with Yoosung without his heart racing and his head spinning, stomach doing a cartwheel, and it was perpetual and annoying and just wouldn’t go away.

He looked over at Yoosung, powering through the feelings to force a half joking smile, Yoosung trying and failing to stifle his laughter. It sent another wave of emotion to engulf Seven and he shook his head, shakily breathing out.

“Is it my hair?”

Yoosung covered his mouth with his hand before pulling it away and speaking through his laughter. “Nope,” he said. “But you’re on the right track. It’s something on you.”

Seven’s palms were sweaty and he was practically shaking, trying to calm himself from the nervousness that came from the repetitive thoughts in his head.

“Is- is it... is it my tie?”

He looked over at Yoosung again, whose eyes averted to his chest and back, glancing at his tie. “Yeah...”

Seven smiled. “So, you were looking at my tie?”

“It-it’s a nice tie!”

Yoosung’s eyes widened before he rolled them, Seven letting out a small laugh. He looked over at Yoosung’s own clothes, his shirt, his bow tie, and felt his heart pound against his chest.

“But I... like your hair, too,” Yoosung said, Seven involuntarily running his fingers through his hair again. His eyes lingered on Yoosung’s for just a second too long and he averted them to a nearby wall.

“I like your eyes,” Seven said, words spilling out without his control and he knew he’d regret it a few seconds later. “They’re nice. They’re bright and they- they make me feel w-warm inside.”

Dumbass!

His conscience cursed at him as he desperately tried to fix it, apologies spilling out in a similar manner as before. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He covered his mouth and pulled at his hair, wanting to slide down at the wall and curl into a ball. “That was weird.”

Yoosung was still, another second of silence, palpable tension, before a nervous laugh.

“No, it’s okay, Seven, I... thank you.”

He hates me.

Seven wondered why he let this happen to him, let himself become so utterly infatuated with Yoosung that he even struggled to keep himself in his usual, joking manner.

Of course, he couldn’t control his feelings.

Still, he wondered, with each passing second he thought about Yoosung when he could be thinking about something else, why.

He didn’t wonder why he liked Yoosung; he knew all the reasons he did, constantly listing them off in his head whenever he thought about him. But it was why, exactly, he let his crush take over him this much, that completely baffled him.

/

“Are you happy for Jaehee and MC?”

Yoosung spoke from next to Seven, both sitting on the floor, having gotten tired from standing after ending their game. Seven gently held his knees against his chest and sighed.

“Yep,” he said, smiling. “I don’t think Elly’s mom is though.”

He rolled his head against the wall to look at Yoosung, who sat there crossing his arms over his chest and foot tapping in the air at nothing. He closed his eyes and gave a content smile. “I’m happy for them too.”

“Why’d you ask?”

Yoosung furrowed his brows. “I want a girlfriend.”

Seven always expected this from Yoosung, but it never failed to make his heart skip a beat out of pure, somewhat irrational fear.

“Really? That’s why you asked?” Joking, laughing, to lighten his mood.

“Do you think anyone... likes me?”

It was a sudden question, further than the redundant talk about wanting a girlfriend that usually came from Yoosung, and he opened his eyes to stare into Seven’s. Seven looked away and forward, starting at the wall again, sweating, heart never catching a damn break, wondering how long it’d be until Yoosung would catch on.

At this point, it wasn’t a matter of bravery or courage, and his mind couldn’t call him a coward enough for him to believe that that was the reason why he was afraid to tell him.

He couldn’t tell him.

He couldn’t.

Ever.

“I know someone that does.”

Fuck.

Could he?

It would definitely be the stupidest, most regrettable thing he’d ever do, but the way Yoosung’s eyes lit up almost killed him.

“Really? Who?”

“Take a guess.”

Procrastinator.

That could probably be the best way out of it, anyway.

He refused to look at Yoosung, eyes locked on the floor, as he waited for him to make his guess. A low hum from Yoosung, and he wondered if his name had crossed his mind.

“... Well... MC is—”

“It’s not a girl. That’s your one hint. Buy more with in-app purchasing.”

Yoosung blinked. “A guy...? Is it someone in the RFA?”

Seven shrugged, hugging his knees tighter and wondering why he did so. “Can’t tell you. You have no more hints.” He realized he knew the answer to that.

“... Is it someone I know?”

“Beep! Access denied! You’re out of hints!” He smiled to himself, a part of him hoping Yoosung would never guess.

Three solid seconds of silence and contemplation.

“... Zen?”

“Nope.”

If it was a process of elimination then—

“Jumin.”

“Nope.”

Surely at some point Yoosung would have to—

“Is it...?”

“It’s not V.”

Oh god oh god oh god—

“Wait... Seven... is it you?”

“Ding ding ding.”

His heart almost exploded.

Seven tapped at his head once, twice, three times, hand shaking, looking to the side at Yoosung, whose eyes were wide, searching for words.

“Seven, you’re—” he let out a breathy laugh, “—you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You have a crush on me.”

“I do. Isn’t that crazy?”

His head was spinning with jumbled thoughts and words that he didn’t want to listen to, feeling like he’d die of a heart attack at any minute, the weight off his shoulders and the relief of getting his feelings for Yoosung off his chest drowned out by the instantaneous regret.

“... No way.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I d—” Yoosung cut himself off, gesturing at nothing in particular as if it would find him the right words. “I... kinda think you’re just trying to mess with me.”

Oh.

Seven could see why he’d think that, having joked around in the messenger and put on the face of 707; but it still felt like a slap to the face. He wanted to hug his knees tighter and hold his head down, staying like that forever. Tempting.

Instead, he reached up to rub his temples, pushing his glasses in the process. “It’s n-not a joke.”

“... Are you sure?”

He locked eyes with Yoosung one more time before he spoke.

“Please, even if just this once, take me seriously, Yoosung,” he said, voice pleading and desperate. “Please understand that- that I like you and I have a crush on you, and my feelings for you are completely serious.”

Yoosung held his gaze and stared back at him, face fallen and chest rising and falling with a more rapid breathing.

He doesn’t feel the same way.

A second wave of overwhelming regret struck Seven, and he found himself rising to his feet, Yoosung’s head moving up, eyes following him.

“W-Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

He turned on his heel and left.

/

“Wait, Seven!”

Around the corner, pretending to walk to the bathroom, he heard footsteps running up to find him, growing louder and slowing down until Yoosung was in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks, catching his breath.

“What?”

“I- I- I have to- to tell-” he gulped, eyes averting to the floor. Seven wondered how long it would take him to just tell him he hated him, never wanted to see him again, that he didn’t return his feelings and that he was straight one more time for memory’s sake. Seven’s mind threw these thoughts at him one by one.

“I- I- I—” Yoosung was shaking, hands tugging at each other out of anxiousness, voice trembling. “I- I think I- I- like-l-like you t-too...”

Initially, another wave, relief instead of regret and it made Seven’s eyes widen for a second, that processing second, before he sighed and let out a laugh, hand running through his hair again, at that point wondering if he had pulled any of it out, a real weight off his shoulders this time. He felt light, the ground beneath them disappearing, floating in the air.

“Thank god!” he wanted to scream, instead whispering it under his breath and covering his mouth out of blissful disbelief.

And he really couldn’t believe it, remembering those anxious thoughts that no longer fazed him, being replaced with elated ones that cried out in joy that he likes me!

Looking back at Yoosung’s nervous smile, hands shaking and eyes only locking on Seven’s for a second at a time, happiness flowed through him, more than it had in a long time.

Yoosung was the first to speak after that.

“I... don’t know what to do now.”

The euphoric rush left Seven faster than it came.

Yoosung’s words stuck in his mind and he asked himself that question, suddenly considering each worst case scenario and wondering if he could even have a relationship with Yoosung to begin with, the obvious answer being that they’d both be in danger, and wished he could go back to his moment of bliss.

He fell back down to earth.

“And I... still don’t know if you’re just joking...”

“I’m not,” Seven said, voice growing defensive, and it hit him once again that this was the reality of it all, happy endings and smiles and happiness only a few-second feeling. He wanted to live in that rush.

“I need some time to think about things,” Yoosung said, exhaustion growing in Seven’s muscles.

In that moment, he grew more to believe that maybe he couldn’t be happy with Yoosung, that they’d be stuck in this hell with no way for Seven to fix it, that he’d be left alone knowing Yoosung felt the same way, nothing they could do about it.

Of course, he couldn’t control his feelings.

It was frightening and he’d have to fix it.

He reached up, wiping away the tears forming in his eyes, and nodded.

“I do, too.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #yooseven #yoosevenweek19 #yoosung kim #707 #saeyoung choi #angst #fluff #love confessions #plz pretend i'm not late #on the next installment of yooseven: kiss kiss fall in love #fanfic