#also I really need Dream to have a secret sweet tooth

[littledreamling]

I need a Dreamling fic where Hob takes Dream to a coffee shop and orders the sweetest, most colorful thing on the menu (think Pink Drink from starbucks) for himself and gets a small black (decaf, of course) coffee for Dream

and then give me Dream stealing Hob’s drink because he very quickly discovers that he doesn’t like black coffee so they’re walking around campus and Dream is in his all-black, goth get-up carrying a bright pink drink and Hob’s struggling not to lose his shit laughing about it

#I want subversions of expectations #also I really need Dream to have a secret sweet tooth #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman #hob gadling #dreamling

[eiraeths]

do you guys want some of my cod 141 headcanons you’re getting them anyways

SOAP

-puts stuff in his mouth a lot to hold it when he runs out of hands (this includes when he’s making explosives, it stresses everyone out)

-gets cute aggression and bites people

-will also bite in a fight

-has bits and pieces of rubble from explosions that he thought looked pretty

-is feral, like he takes a hit to the face during a spar and grins with blood trickling into his mouth

-had a graffiti phase as a teen that never fully left and because of it he writes in all capital letters. this is great when they need something written down where no one can read it. (the 141 probably had a meeting where they went over how to read his handwriting)

-has dreams so realistic he wakes up confused wondering if it was a memory he forgot about even if it didn’t make sense

-military grade anger issues

-never fully grew out of his punk phase

-his childhood room was full of road signs and traffic cones

-is actually a hardass when it comes to training recruits (i think the proper term for privates in the sas is troopers but im calling them recruits cause that seems to be the term everyone uses)(everyone thought his bright attitude meant that he’s laid back and easygoing. no. he’s not. yall ever seen those videos of drill sergeants coming up with the most creative insults? thats him)

-randomly says “i am normal and can be trusted around military grade weapons”

-his journal from the og games is a must in the remaster sorry i don’t make the rules

GHOST

-can play guitar super fucking well, im talking full on fingerstyle ballads

-major staring problem, if he doesn’t want to talk to someone he’ll stare until they go away. sometimes stares at people for no reason. also stares when he wants something. he’s always watching.

-would be interested in getting into blacksmithing if he didn’t grow up poor and hates spending money on himself that isn’t out of necessity (seriously you need like 30k to start a forge)

-can and will obsess over damascus patterns in blades (i feel like his favorite pattern would be fish bone or those really complicated mosaic patterns. he gets soap into it too by showing him fireball patterns)

-never grew out of echolalia and because of this is amazing at mimicking noises (he mimicks smoke alarm battery low noises and phone chimes to troll people sometimes.)

-road rage, but its quiet fuming comments that make you grip the oh shit handle for dear life (“you better turn off your fucking highbeams or i can’t be blamed for the head on collision that’s about to happen”)(no one can tell if he’s serious or not)

-hates tin foil, hearing it or touching it makes him clench his jaw because it feels like he can feel it in his teeth

-secret sweet tooth, but it comes and goes. sometimes he’s disgusted by anything sweeter than white bread and other times he can fuck up an entire box of lil debbie cakes

-can hand sew efficiently and fast as fuck

-his favorite type of blanket is a heavy quilt

GAZ

-is aggressively hydrated and is one of those people who carry around those big 128 oz water bottles

-gets competitive over karaoke (it took him months to convince everyone to join and he only got the idea after finding out soap wanted to be in a band as a teen and that he spent days learning how to properly vocal fry)

-says WOO! when he’s super fucking excited (will throw his arms up as well if soap is around because the two of them are an echo chamber of emotion)(the WOO! might actually be canon theres a voice line in warzone)

-probably the most up to date on modern fashion trends (get this man a long cashmere coat he deserves it)

-he does own a bedazzled cap he found at a gas station though (it’s hideous)

-elaborate skin care routine (he’s conned everyone to have some sort of routine. especially ghost. he got so concerned when it hit him that ghost was always wearing the eyeblack)

PRICE

-listens to black label society (i won’t budge on this its not even a head canon to me anymore its fact it was revealed to me in a dream)

-plays solitaire (he’s a very high level and it took him less than a year to get there. no one knows where he found the time to play for that long)

-drives a manual and shames people who don’t know how to work a stick

-literature nerd (im talking all the classics and philosophy books this man can get his hands on)

-discovered tennessee moonshine and has thought about it ever since

-smacks people on the back of the head when they’re doing something stupid

-if anyone makes a negative comment on his facial hair he gives them the dirtiest side eye

GEN/MULTI

-gaz and soap carry those big contractor waterproof sharpies and leave gaz was here or soap was here everywhere they go (this stemmed from soap’s graffiti phase and gaz turned it into a competition. they once got into a competition on who could leave the most signs until price called them muppets and confiscated their sharpies)

-ghost put soap in air jail once, it was very effective

-gaz and soap go to the gym together and take photos in the mirrors after they’re done (somewhere there’s a photo of the time they got ghost to join and they even got him to flex an arm)

-ghost and soap are professional assholes to each other.

-none of the 141 are allowed play card games and gamble with each other because they’re all dirty charlatans

-price tried to stop smoking only once and carried around gum and peppermints. ghost stole the peppermints and soap wouldn’t stop asking for gum

-gaz and ghost are the only ones who really try to adhere to the lights out rule. price and soap can be seen drinking coffee throughout the day

-all of them can hold a grudge for life

-ghost clears his throat loudly when any of them smoke by him. or stares. depends on the say

-if any of the smokers see another outside smoking and decides to join them it turns into a drawn out conversation about the most mundane topics

-the 141 can have full conversations of pure sarcasm nons

#task force 141 #cod headcanons #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #modern warefare ii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #cod price #john price #i need more gaz headcanons #modern warfare headcanons #cod 141 #141 headcanons #ear headcanons

[nanaloco]

hi sorry to bother you. I just wanted to request an nct dream scenario for when their s/o scratches their back? Preferably with extra fluff 😅

How Nct Dream react when their s/o scratches their back

Oh my god anon that's so cute 😭😭😭 I had to write one for each member when I saw this!

I tried to make each members story unique and different so you might not like some of them but I hope it's still a good read ♡

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff, sad mark, minor injury? (Jeno fell off his bike), I didn't proofread this!! I wanted to write this for this anon but I've got exams soon

Genre : Nct Dream x gn!reader

Mark

It was when he was half asleep, he had a really bad day today and all he could think about after a bad day was being clung to your side with his head on your chest, enjoying your soft touch which sends his stomach spinning. You've got your arms around him as he starts to quietly sob, you slowly run your fingers along his back, grazing your fingernails gently on the thin fabric of his loose black tee. 'I'm not too sure what happened today to make you feel like this, but just know I'm always here for you when you need me ok?' A muffled 'ok' is all you get out of the stuffy nosed mark as you wipe his tears and kiss his forehead. He lowers his head as your hands make their way to his back, 'want to talk about what happened today?' You feel the vibration of his throat as he humms. 'Well, everyone and everything is just reminding me how uncapable I am, of a lot of things really. I just keep messing everything up. I feel like I'm not good enough and I just want to give up'.

'Well I'm not too sure what Mark you know, but my boyfriend, the Mark lee I know is amazing in every possible way.' You say with a warm smile on your face as your fingers start rubbing his back, slowly turning into a soft scratching motion which Mark loved the feeling of; he appreciated you so much. 'He's also very talented, and very very smart.' You scratched his chin and with that his eyelids slowly start to become heavy. Hearing your sweet affirming words had him feeling much better, the light scratch was a new feeling and he loved every second of it.

Renjun

You were just chilling on the bathroom stool while he was bathing carrying out your usual stalking behaviours of following your boyfriend who you so much adored absolutely everywhere. You had been showing him funny tiktok videos you've found while scrolling along your for you page for the past hour. 'Since you forced the door open, you might aswell be useful' you raise your hand to your chest as you acted shocked and hurt. 'Since your here, please could you wash my back for me? I can't reach too easily since I have suuuch broad shoulders' you roll your eyes but are totally loving the idea. You grab his pink loofa and squirt some of your expensive bubble bath formula onto it and begin to clean his ' broad' shoulders and back, covering every inch with the velvety pearly white bubbles. Ditching the loofa, you carress and lather the soap into his back in circular motions, you begin doing the same circular movement on his back with your nails gaving him a mini nail massage. He moves closer to the edge of the tub so you have better access, 'that feels really nice' he says with s smile on his face, slowly closing his eyes; you then gently wipe away the bubbles from the hairline on the back of his head and tell him to move to the middle so you can wash all the bubbles off. You scoop up water and drench his back with water from his shoulders down, bringing your hands down in carressing scratches along with the water. You give a chaste kiss to his nape while scooping up some bubbles into your hand secretly, he turns around confused at the sudden kiss and to his surprise, you bring out your secret weapon, spreading them onto his chin like santa; lauging like a maniac at the ridiculously serious expression spread across his face for someone rocking a bubble beard. 'Oh it's on' he declared while grabbing a handful of bubbles and slapping them onto you face, laughing hysterically at how fast your smile faded. 'HEY!' You exclaim almost falling into the tub trying to grab him 'I promise you I'll remember this, so don't forget what you did today.' You grimace as you wipe yout face with his face towel and throw it at him, walking out leaving the door open so all the warm air can escape before he can make it out the tub. 'Baby- I'm-I'm sorry!' He yells between his uncontrollable laughter, you're just too sickeningly cute.

Jeno

He had a bike accident (consisting of driving his bike down a ramp and forgetting to break, crashing into the wall and some how landing ontop of his bike on his back) which he insists hurts way more than it sounds. He claims he doesn't need to go to hospital and communicates to you the importance of you giving him a massage and that that's all he needs. So today, Prior to your scheduled 'make Jeno feel better-cuddle-sesh' (named by him) you planned to give him a nice muscle relaxing massage following the tutorial you watched on youtube shortly after you recieved his phonecall sharing the 'horrible news' and making plans on how you're gonna make him feel better.  You had prepared some candles for him and when he came through the door, you gave him a tight hug around the waist and grabbed his hand dragging him to the sofa, he follows along scraping his feet along the floor pouting his lips. You lead him to the couch where you took off his coat and felt around his back as he winced in pain.  'My baby's really hurt hmmm' you frown. You practice what you learnt from youtube, losely following the circular hand movements from the tutorial, he groaned in approval, he made it seem like a joke but he really was injured. You instruct him to take off his shirt as you hurry to your feet to grab an an ice pack from the freezer. You sit down next to him and he rests his chin on your thigh, you smoothed the pack of frozen peas along his bruised back. You then start to skim your nails lightly along to soothe the pins and needles from the contact with the cold pack. You could feel his tense muscles start to relax. 'You always know what to do to make me feel better'

Jaemin

Jaemin walks through the door with a grin on his face happy to see you,he rushes to the couch you're lying on, gently sitting next to you and he softly peppers kisses all over your face 'aaa! You're so cute, let me take care of you' he says, lifting your head onto his lap and carressing your hair. You block his hands and sit up, to stare at him with a serious expression 'no, today, I'm gonna take care of you.' You say straddling his lap and cupping his face, squishing his cheeks to the point where his eyes close and pressing a short sweet  peck on his stretched out lips. 'What are you going to do' he barely makes out as you're still squeezing the life out of him, lowering his hands to rest on your hips. You swing your legs around his waist to hug him on his side with your back facing the longer side of the couch, wraping your arms around his neck and pulling backwards causing him to topple over and land on top of you. 'Move down u idiot' he obeys squirming down the couch and his legs are sticking up into the air from the knees down due to the couch's arm rest. The couch obviously isn't big enough for the two of you but he's not going to ruin your moment. 'I'm gonna take care of you' you kiss his temple and start carresing his back leaving small scratches as he took in your sweet addictive natural scent 'I love you' he mumbles against your arm, you leave sweet trails of soft scratches down his back. In your mind you were totally wooing him with your romantic tactics but in reality, this couch was way too small for the two of you and his butt was hanging in the air. But for Jaemin, he wouldn't rather be anywhere else but in your arms. Because this is so perfect and just so you. You decided you're going to take care of him today and he just loves The idea of that

Haechan

He enters your bedroom in your shared appartment where you were sitting up against the headboard, peacefully playing silly little games on your phone when he comes leaping at you; 'babbyy' practically throwing himself onto your still figure, head in your lap, snaking his arms around your waste with his cheek pressed against your stomach. 'Look at meee' your eyes were still glued to your phone as you've almost completed level 30 of doors on roblox. He gives you grabby hands so you put your elbow on his head to move him out of the way so you can focus. He lets you stay like that sighing as you get through door 30 and just win your mini goal 'YES!!' you exclaim happily as you'd been stuck on that level for a while. 'Sorry what were u saying?' He turns over onto his back, 'Give me attention' he says bringing your hand to his lips 'anything for my patient boyfriend' you say cupping his cheeks 'what can I do for you?' 'Can you scratch my back I need your touch right now' you tickle his stomach as if to answer 'of course' and he starts to whine and squirm, then you trace your hands to his hair. He turns back to his previous position with his arms around your waist. 'I want to eat you' as he makes a threatening facial expression pretenting to eat your stomach, you feign a gasp and make a soft scratching motion from his scalp to his lower back. Melting into your touch, his eyes slowly flutter close. In love with the sensation of your touch, he grabs your hand and puts it through the neckhole of his sweater leading you to his bare skin. 'Ah.. I'm seriously in love with you'

Chenle

You two were just coming from the grocery store he dragged you out of bed to 'chenlee I'm so tired of walking I hate you'

'Welllll I can get you a ride?' He replies smugly 'PLEASE THANK YOU MY LEGS ARE ABOUT TO GIVING IN' you say thanking god that you don't have to walk another step. He puts the groceries in his hands onto the floor and kneels down infront of you 'Chuber at your service, the boyfriend uber service' you deadpan at him, walking straight past his ridiculous antics; he giggles as he follows, still on his knees infront of you with that pisstaking grin on his face. You sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around his neck, he retaliates by quickly standing up and sticking his butt out causing you to fling your legs out 'CHENLE'. You can practically hear his cocky smirk as he stands up straight and goes back to collect your groceries 'Chenle I'm far too old to be getting piggy back rides' 'It's keeping the romance aliiive!' You can only roll your eyes. You've got quite a bit to walk until you two can get to your appartment, he's staying over tonight so you went to get his snacks because 'you don't know how to get good snacks' 'Y/n my head itches, can you scratch the left side, my hands are obviously full' you can tell he rolled his eyes. 'It's because your head is covered with dandruff' you retaliate and stick your tongue out. You lightly separate his bone straight dark brown hair and scratch exactly where he needed it, slowly making your way to his nape, reverting to wrapping your arms around his front and scratching his sides which he responds to with laughter and slightly starts to sway 'that tickles' he says between breaths of laughter. You start scratching his upper back and he can feel the soft stroaks through his fabric winter coat, It was soothing. 'That feels really nice.' He almost wanted to close his eyes but he'll have to save that for when he's at your house cozy in your blankets with you in his arms.

Jisung

This baby managed to get sun burnt because he forgot sunscreen yesterday on your vacation with his and your group of friends. Him and his friends had been playing volleyball while your group hit the pool. He got lightly sunburnt so now hes sat imbetween your outstretched legs as you applying some remedy oil to his skin, along with some sunscreen. 'You seriously need to be more careful jisung, you're not a little kid anymore, seriously' he lowers his head and starts tracing shapes on your shin, you lightly copy those shapes into his sunscreen covered back with your nails. 'Ah!' He whined, you give a worried expression as you ask 'am I hurting you?' One hand brought to your mouth for dramatic effect, retracting your hands to rest them on his hips 'no it feels nice, don't stop, I'm just really ticklish on my back' he confessed shyly laughing. 'actually, this feels kind of nice'. Well! You say quickly rising to your feet as a sheepish smile follows, you look ridiculous, time to capture my amazing artwork you say as you make that picture frame motion; closing one eye to look at your masterpiece through your lense, you see jisung has turned around and is staring at you with those googly eyes. You turned quickly to find your phone ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks.

Tysm for reading and thank you anon for giving me such a cute theme to work with!

Asks don't bother me at all I love replying to these so flood ky ask box guys!!

I love you all SOOOOO MUCH mwah!

#nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream soft hours #nct fluff #nct imagines #jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios #lee mark #mark fluff #mark imagines #mark soft hours #lee donghyuck #donghyuck fluff #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan fluff #haechan #jeno lee #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno scenarios #nct smut #renjun #renjun fluff #nct jisung #jisung fluff #chenle fluff #nct dream reactions #nanaloco

[somethinglikero]

Sweet Encounters - Gojo X Reader

Flowers in this bouquet: Satoru Gojo Peonies

Colors of flowers: White, Pink {fluff, strangers to lovers}

Florist note: Hello again! I really don't know what to tell... It has been a while, isn't it? Well, to begin with, I had an important exam, so I logged off from Tumblr, and guess what happened... I forgot my password. BUT now I am back again hehe. I hope you enjoy this long promised drabble! I wrote this drabble imagining the reader as a female, but I believe this could also be read as GN or male reader.

The bustling streets of Tokyo were a labyrinth of sweet temptations for Gojo Satoru. Renowned as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, his penchant for sweets was a well-known secret. He could sniff out the finest dessert shops from miles away and had explored every corner of Tokyo in search of the perfect confectionery.

One sunny afternoon, as he strolled down a familiar avenue, a new dessert shop caught his eye. Its quaint, pastel façade and the scent of freshly baked pastries wafting through the air were irresistible. Gojo's curiosity got the better of him, and he sauntered inside.

The bell above the door tinkled merrily as he entered, and his vibrant eyes instantly landed on the charming figure behind the counter—You. You greeted him with a friendly smile, ready to introduce him to the sweet delights of your shop.

"Welcome! What can I get you?" you asked with a polite tone, not realising who had just walked into your life.

Gojo flashed his signature grin, his lavender eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, sweetheart, I've heard this place is a hidden gem. What would you recommend for someone with a serious sweet tooth?"

You chuckled at his straightforward approach. "We have a fantastic selection of desserts, but I'd recommend our signature Chocolate Dream Cake. It's a real crowd-pleaser."

"Chocolate Dream Cake, huh? Sounds irresistible. I'll take a slice, but I might need a second opinion. Would you care to join me?" Gojo asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You couldn't help but laugh at his charm. "Sorry, but I'm on the clock, and I've got a shop to run."

Undeterred, Gojo ordered the Chocolate Dream Cake and a latte, taking a seat at a nearby table. As you served him, you couldn't help but admire his confidence and the aura of power that surrounded him. The two of you engaged in a light conversation, with Gojo trying his best to impress you with witty banter and playful compliments.

Despite his charisma, you maintained a friendly yet professional demeanour, gently brushing off his advances with a chuckle. It was clear you were immune to his usual tactics. This intrigued Gojo.

----✿︎----

Over the following days, Gojo became a regular customer, showing up at your dessert shop every afternoon. His visits were no longer about satisfying his sweet tooth; they were about engaging in conversations with you.

You found yourself looking forward to his visits. His stories about the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers, his humour, and even his sweet tooth antics had become an enjoyable part of your day. The more you got to know him, the more you realised there was more to Gojo Satoru than met the eye.

One evening, as the sun set and the shop began to close, Gojo asked you, "Do you believe in fate?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Fate, huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are the odds that I would stumble upon this little shop and meet someone as captivating as you?" he said, his tone more sincere than flirtatious.

You paused for a moment, contemplating his words. "Well, I think everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was fate that brought you here."

You turned your head to him to find him already looking and smiling at you. You shot him a warm smile and continued your work behind the counter.

From that moment, you felt like your relationship deepened. Gojo's visits became more about sharing moments and stories with you, he no longer needed to flirt to hold your attention. You discovered a charming, kind-hearted side to him, hidden beneath his cocky exterior.

As weeks turned into months, Gojo's presence in your life became something you cherished and something you grew fond of. And while he still couldn't resist the sweetness of your desserts, he found even more sweetness in the daily conversations you shared.

What began as a flirtatious encounter in a dessert shop turned into a genuine connection—a bond that went beyond Gojo's sweet tooth and your delightful confections. Fate had indeed played its part, bringing together two souls who were destined to meet amidst the sweetness of Tokyo's finest desserts.

#ro's flowershop ✿︎ #gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ro's flowers ✿︎ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo x male reader #gojo x gn reader #gojo x gn!reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader strangers to lovers #gojo x reader sweet shop #gojo x reader desert shop

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Tom Bennett General Headcanon Alphabet

A - Animals - Are they an animal person? Good with them? Scared of them? 

Tommy loves animals. He is the sort of person that will cross the road with the sole intent of petting a cat he's spotted and smiles at dogs as they walk past. Vera the canary will always be his number one though.

B -  Boozy - What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? 

Tom is a loud drunk. He's fond of a drink and will get quite rowdy after a few pints.

C - Chocolate - Do they prefer savory tastes or do they have a (secret) sweet tooth? 

Tom eats for necessity, he's not really a foodie. Although if someone has a bag of crisps or sweets around him that won't stop him from dipping his hand in and helping himself.

D - Decision - Are they impulsive decision makes? Do they follow their heart, or do they prefer thinking it over?

He's incredibly impulsive. He's hot headed and a hedonist, which means he rarely takes the time to think through his actions.

E - Explosive - Are they quick to get angry? What kind of angry are they?

Tom is quick to anger and will raise his voice when he loses his temper. It's his way of goading people into a fight, so he can claim they struck first when he inevitably gets into trouble for scrapping.

F - Friendship - Do they make friends easily? Or are they more hard to approach?

Tom's a people person, but his love of winding people up means they're not always a fan of him.

G - Ghost - Do they believe in the paranormal? Are they superstitious? 

Absolutely not. He thinks all of that's nonsense.

H - Health & Hygiene - Do they take proper care of themselves or do they need to be reminded to have better habits? 

Tom does the necessities - he washes himself and brushes his teeth, but that's about it.

I - Income - Do they feel like money = happiness, or are they happy with enough to survive? Do they dream of a lavish lifestyle, or do they think luxury is unnecessary? 

Tom is relatively content with his lot in life. He tends to look down upon extreme wealth, as it makes people snobby.

J - Job - If they’d be living in our world - modern AU - What kind of job would they have? Would they be good at it? 

He'd be a mechanic and use it as an opportunity to flirt with female customers. He'd be skilled, but too busy trying to charm his way into the knickers of every pretty lady to actually be any good at it.

K - Kindness - Are they kind? Do they like to pay it forward? Are they kind to strangers? 

Tom has a heart of gold and is kind when it matters - it's hidden beneath a thick shell of cockiness though.

L - Love Language - What is their love language? Does it change when it’s a romantic relationship or are they consistent with how they show love to friends and partners? 

Tom's love language with friends and family is quality time. With partners it's physical touch.

M - Music - What kind of music are they into / would they be into? Can they sing / dance? Do they have good rhythm? 

Tom can't sing, but he's not a bad dancer - any opportunity to get up close and personal with other women. Not hugely into music, so will typically go with whatever's popular at the time.

N - Nature - Do they enjoy the calm and quiet of nature or do they prefer people and the city? What kind of nature resonates most with them (sea, forest, mountains…) 

Tom's a city guy. Give him the cobbled streets of Castlefield any day over the green expanse of the countryside.

O - Offspring - Do they want kids one day? Are they good with children, or do they prefer to stay away as far as possible? 

Tom is great with kids, as he acts like a big kid himself. The idea of having his own terrifies him though, so he prefers not to think about it.

P - Pain - Do they have a high pain tolerance? Are they quick to admit that they are in pain or will they endure it by themselves? 

Tom won't hide the fact that he's in pain, but he'll also cope and not make a fuss.

Q - Question - Are they curious by nature? Do they know loads of little trivia? Are they very knowledgeable in their field? 

Tom's not academically high achieving, but he has good emotional intelligence. He prefers to learn about people rather than subjects.

R - Rain - What is their favorite type of weather? Favorite season? Are they an ‘I’m always hot’ or an ‘I’m always cold’ kind of person? 

Tom likes sunny weather - perfect for relaxing with a beer, and means that ladies are more likely to be out in dresses, so he can look at their legs.

S - Sleep - What are their sleeping habits? What does their bed look like? 

Tom goes to bed late and likes to lay in until the afternoon. He's lazy and his bed is never made.

T - Tired - Are they a morning person? A night owl? A permanently exhausted pigeon? 

Tom's a night owl, for sure.

U - Unwind - What do they like to do to relax? Do they need a lot of downtime?

Tom doesn't need a lot of alone time. If he needs to relax he'll smoke a cigarette. Typically enjoys blowing off steam at the pub.

V - Vulnerable - Are they quick to overshare? Or do they keep up their defenses? How long does it take for them to trust someone and open up? 

Tom will share enough to make people think he is open, however, there is a wall hiding his real thoughts and feelings - someone has to really get to know him in order for this to come down.

W - Weird - Do they have any habits that are considered strange or abnormal by other people? What are they? 

Excessive smoking, flirting with anything in a skirt, his love of causing trouble.

X - XOXO - In a modern AU: are they a texter or a caller? Do they use emoji? What are their most used Emoji? Do they use a lot of common abbreviations, or do they type out everything properly? 

He'd be someone that sends a lot of voice notes, and when he texts there's excessive use of the eggplant/aubergine emoji.

Y - Yes man - Are they quick to help out friends? And Strangers? Will they be easy to convince to do things for others or do they prefer just taking care of their own business. 

Tom will do anything for his friends and family. He'd be the last person to offer to help someone do something boring and tiresome like move house or mow the lawn, but if someone was in genuine, desperate need of urgent help then he'd be there for them.

Z - Zone out - Are they prone to daydreaming? If so, what are they dreaming about? Or are they more focussed, and if they are, how hard is it to break their concentration?

Tom is someone who doesn't like to be in his own head too much. He prefers distracting himself. He always has to be focused on something.

#tom bennett #world on fire #my headcanons #ewan mitchell

[mutable-star-child]

Venus in the 12th house

✨💜 These natives have a beauty that is seldom talked about , they’re the type to become more beautiful the longer you know them or spend time with them , you may catch yourself noticing beauty in the smallest things that eventually add up and one day your looking at them bewildered at how you never noticed them before. It’s like Neptune blurs them and then one day the focus becomes crystal clear

✨ 💜 a lot of these natives have an ethereal essence to their look . They look like they’re from another time or they look like angels , mermaids , or even aliens , some may even look quite “plain” but again the longer you spend time with them or see them the more their beauty becomes prevalent to you

✨💜People easily become obsessed with a 12th house Venus . If you get to know them whether at work or friendship , they’re so sweet and so caring and loving, the energy that comes off of them is something you’ve never felt before .. they make you feel seen and heard for who you really are and that feeling is unforgettable

✨💜a lot of people will see how kind ,compassionate and empathetic these people are and will want their attention and energy without having to give an equal exchange in return , this of course goes along with the life long lesson for a 12th house venus of learning to love themselves and give themselves what they so readily give to others .

✨💜I’ve noticed whether male or female with this placement that they can attract quite a lot of jealousy from the same sex . Perhaps others can see how touched or moved or attracted others are to them and that invokes it but usually the 12th house Venus can be quite oblivious to how much they actually affect people .

✨💜I’ve also noticed that these peoples looks aren’t talked about as much soberly … but as soon as people start getting drinks in them they get complimented way more haha

✨💜I know that the 12th house venus is cliché for secret love affairs but not every 12th house venus will participate in a secret love affair . I have noticed that some married people will secretly fantasize about them or have crushes on them or secretly fall in love with them and have to keep it to themselves

✨💜They tend to have a sweet tooth hahah or love to shop and spend money . Which should be practiced with caution , they are the type to not buy anything for a long time then just one day decide they want an iPad and drop 2 Gs hahah ( my bf has done this 😂 )

✨💜 Day dreamers , they have the most beautiful minds and usually have an eye for aesthetics , they can also put things together that wouldn’t seem to go together, but some how they meld them together into something unique and original.

✨💜 They’re the type to daydream about being artists and have an appreciation for the arts , once they get over the day dreaming phase and actually do art whether professionally or as a hobby they produce amazing pieces

✨💜 growing up their looks weren’t really talked about , even if they are very attractive .. it’s funny because telling them they’re good looking or attractive they’re so modest , which accentuates that 12th house venus charm

✨💜Ex’s do NOT want to let them go , they will try to stay around as just friends or keep in touch or even try their hardest to not break up .. but they are elusive .. Neptunes house makes them feel far away and close , haunting their dreams or thoughts , these people are unforgettable

✨💜They pick up on so much energy and help transmute energy by just being around , they need their alone time to recharge

✨💜 Again people just adore them , they are sweet angels and if you have one in your life , cherish them , watch the subtlety of their beauty . The words they speak , the words they don’t speak , they’re facial expressions, how they express themselves . Get to know them , give them back what they give to you and you will have the most abundant of relationships . They are amazing friends and lovers and family members . I’ve been blessed to have multiple 12th house Venusians in my life ; my bf , my nephew, and a few friends and all I have to say is that they are some of my favourite people with the most calming aura that makes you feel safe and loved .

Let me know what ya think and if you have this placement if anything resonates or even if you have any 12th house venusians in your life ! Love you all ✨💜🌈

🌈B🌈

#astrology #astro notes #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology notes #12th house venus #12th house #venus in the houses

[eve18ahs]

Pt 1 Are we forever?

Conner kent/Luthor x FEM telepath reader

Warnings- swearing, a pinch of angst

Conner. The sweet boy who made me wanna live forever. He changed me for the better. Now he's changing but for the worst. He started acting like lex Luthor. He shaved his head and started to wear a leather jacket. The way he talked to people was different. He was more aggressive and a bit of an asshole. It's difficult being a telepath and feeling everyone's emotions all at once. Conner started talking about the plan he had to stop mother mayhem. I wasn't listening I was thinking about when blackfire was around and they were dating he looked so happy and I couldn't help but fall in love with him. So after she left I never told him. I think Gar and Kory knew but they kept my secret. Before blackfire showed up me and Conner were connected at the hip. We were inseparable together. What some would call soulmates. Dick tried telling me that Conner was my soulmate I didn't want to believe it. Not because I didn't like him but because I didn't want get my hopes up about love and cry myself to sleep. If I was ever upset I could go to Conner with no hesitation. But I couldn't really do that when he's acting like lex. I thought he might insult me or piss me off. So I stayed quiet. Conner noticed right off the bat something was off. That's when he made his way over "hey yn, your being oddly quiet. What's on your mind ?" I wasn't sure how to answer so I just said " I just have headache, Con. Don't worry about it." I knew that answer wouldn't suffice for him. I could see it in his eyes he knew there was something wrong with me. I also knew he would fight tooth and nail to get a truthful answer from me. All I really ever wanted was to kiss him and curl up in his lap and let go. I want it to be that way for forever. I wanted him forever. Us. Forever. The idea sounded nice. I thought about walking on a beach with him and waking up to the sun shining on our bodies. But that only happens in dreams or at least for me. Conner leaned in "Are you sure it's a headache,yn?" I nodded "yeah I'm sure." Then I walk off to distract myself. Maybe get a burger or something. I just needed to be alone.

That is part 1 of are we forever?

I hope you like it.

#conner luthor #titans s4 #conner kent/luthor x femreader

[klngfili]

☾ ☆ ✿ ■ ♦ ☯ ♒ - for Glorfindel, Elrond, Maedhros and Fili (feel free to skip the ones you have already done for Elrond)

Glorfindel:

☾ - sleep headcanon: he is team haha what is sleep? blinking counts as sleep right? ☆ - happy headcanon: each morning he gets up and preps for the day ahead and braids his horse's hair and then puts a bunch of bells on his horse and they ride out with the first light and often dont come back before like 5pm, he used to do that in Gondolin as well, even tho back then he had Ecthelion w him ✿ - Sex headcanon: yeah so i mentioned those rides with ecthelion didnt i?? plus there are always secret spots around gondolin yknow ■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon: his living situation kinda looks like that of a frat boi but like it is his chaos and he knows where everything is al all times and it drives the other elves crazy ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon: loves sitting by the fountain's in rivendell, there was decade where he even tried to teach himself how to play the flute, he loves horse riding ☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon: likes: being a morning person and telling everyone about it, he also goes around and says stuff like back when i was your age i had already killed a balrog and died to people, also has a sweet tooth dislikes: rainy days and silence ♒ - cooking/food headcanon: oh boi does he have a sweet tooth he basically only eats desserts and sweets and pastries

putting the rest under a read more cause there are 3 more left and the last 2 are kinda long

Elrond:

☾ - sleep headcanon: he is a half elf so every evening he gets into his soft pjs puts in his hair routine to keep his hair nice and fresh for the next day and then goes to bed and closes his eyes and dreams of happier days, he's also a bit of blanket hog ☆ - happy headcanon: dude is so sad and tragic he needs some happy headcanons asap but sadly i can only give him angst T^T like that halfelf can sadly fit so much angst but one happy headcanon is that he and bilbo get into poetry battles ✿ - Sex headcanon: a praise kink, like the biggest praise kink also gets pegged lbr ■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon: tidy and neat. Everything has his spot. He also keep another library in his bedroom, with all the books and scrolls he has, most of them are healing or history tomes ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon: (done) ☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon: (done) ♒ - cooking/food headcanon: tried to cook mole stew once and it actually wasnt that bad, at least that's what durin and disa told him over and over again

Maedhros:

☾ - sleep headcanon: Dude hasn't slept in years, not since Angband and even before that every time he tries to sleep he hears his brother's screams as he gets burned alive and then it's his father's death. So he just stays up and broods or does accounting or practices swordfighting or writes long letters to Fingon and after Fingon's death he still writes those letters he just never sends them. Sometimes he goes to the rampart of Himling and looks west and thinks about his mother ☆ - happy headcanon: he used to be happy once right? he must have  been, he remembers hours spend laughing at Caranthir's antics or helping Ambarussa with their calligraphy or festivals he spends dancing with Fingon and Aredhel and his mother's kin. Catching things for his younger brothers and cousins they couldn't reach, playing hide and seek with them ✿ - Sex headcanon: he can be ace as a treat ■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon: it's all very sparse and he doesn't have much stuff anyway most of his things are still in Valinor and he didn't get to bring anything and he also doesn't really get attached to any item be it decorative or practical plus he doesnt sleep so why would heed a bed, if he rests he does it leaned against a wall or smth ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon: he loved dancing and singing and playing the Middle-earth version of volleyball ☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon:  likes: taking walks at night with only the stars and moon above, he plays long distance chess against caranthir, he also likes wine. dislikes: actually can't stand maglor like at all and its all rather silly cause they entered a music competition as kids and he was unprepared so he asked Maglor to write him smth and then maglor played both his and Maedhro's song, and well.. Maedhros is still his father's son and even nerdanel couldnt smooth things over. ♒ - cooking/food headcanon: he was a bit of a picky eater as a kid and hated everything yellow, so no apples, potatoes, yellow bell peppers, quinces, cheese, or yellow sewets etc but he's not a picky eater anymore and wolves down everything he can get his hands on

Fili:

☾ - sleep headcanon: fili sleeps like  a  rock and he hates sleeping aloe cause when he was little he used to share a bed with both his mother and his younger brother, so he can't really fall asleep unless he knows someone is at least in the  same room as him. ☆ - happy headcanon: his father taught him how to braid and he was often allowed to braid his father's, Dis' and Thorin's beard and he felt very honoured doing that and ofc he taught Kili how to do his own hair ✿ - Sex headcanon: sadly he died a virgin even though he had been pining after Nori for the entire trip to Erebor, they werent even stuck in a cell together in Mirkwood, round of Fs in the chat pls ■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon: he shares everything with Kili actually and sometimes Kili uses up all the soap and then there's no soap left for Fili, or sometimes Fili uses up all the flour and butter and milk and Kili just wants to have some cereal but alas no milk. And no Dis did not kick them out she would never she loves her sons too much for that, it's just that thorin thought it would be best if they lived closer to the smithies, especially since they both have a knack for oversleeping ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon: he has a 12 step hair care and skin care routine, everyone always thinks Ili is the vain one but no it's him, he is the one that takes ages in the bathroom and looks into every mirror or window he passes ☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon:  likes: baking he actually tried to convince thorin once that he much rather wanted to be baker (an equally important and well respected jobs among the dwarves) but thorin told him it would be better if he knew his way around a proper weapon ; he also likes a good prank, and o boi did he use to prank Balin and Dwalin cause he and Kili knew they could get away with it (Balin) and could fit into hidey holes they couldn't reach (Dwalin) dislikes: he hates rain and humidity, again he's quite vain. He also dislikes being late but his bed is just too comfy ♒ - cooking/food headcanon: he secretly loves baking.

#askies #anon #omg that was so much fun thank u #and sorry it took so long to answer this O.O

[yukiakaren]

Kpop title track ranking: WJSN

In this series I’ll be ranking kpop groups/soloists title tracks based on my taste.

Recently I’ve been obsessing with one of their songs so I thought this would be the perfect timing to do this for WJSN!

Save Me Save You - I’m sure I don’t need to tell anyone who has heard Save Me Save You how crazy good this song is. I was sold so easily with this one and it immediately became my favorite WJSN song and it has kept it’s place all this time. And if you somehow haven’t heard this masterpiece just go listen to it, don’t read the rest of the list but go.

Last Sequence - What a comeback! I was sold on the first listen. What a robbery that this one hasn’t gotten a win on the music shows. I need more time to see if this could surpass Save Me Save You and become my favorite song from them but right now I feel like the recency bias is too big for me to change the order. And yes, this is the song I’ve been obsessed with recently.

La La Love - This one has just steadily climbed it’s way up with me. I just find it so so catchy and easy to listen to. It’s just so good!   

Unnatural - I have to admit that it took a while for Unnatural to click with me. But I mean when it did there has been no going back. It’s sooo good!

Dreams Come True - The song that made me really recognize how good WJSN can be. More mature sound compared to their earlier songs and that probably was the reason I started really liking it.

Secret - Cute, adorable and enjoyable. If I remember right this was the first WJSN song that I listen to actively acknowledging by whom it is. Not something I’d actively would have reached out for recently though.

As You Wish - Based on Queendom 2 apparently a lot of people are hyped for As You Wish but I have to say I’m not really one of them. Sure, it’s good and all but for me they do have better songs.

Happy - Cute, adorable and enjoyable part 2. Definitely one that you should go for if you need a cheery song to bring your mood up. Bit too hyper for me most of the time though xD

I Wish - Cute, adorable and enjoyable part 3. Not one of my absolute favorites but there’s nothing really wrong with this either.

Boogie Up - Cutesy and summery for sure but I think summer would just be the only time of the year when I would want to really listen to this one.

Butterfly - Butterfly just hasn’t ever really clicked with me. Not much else for me to say here, not bad but just not for me.

MoMoMo - Oh wow now I understand how people find some things too cute/sweet. This song feels like someone ordered the sweetest thing available and made them make it with triple the amount of sugar there already was. Even me, one with the biggest sweet tooth around, has found their limit here xD

I have to say Catch Me was very confusing for me. Was it just a b-side that got also promoted or what was the thing with it? I decided think it as a promoted b-side and just go with MoMoMo, but do correct me if you know better.

#WJSN #Kpop title track ranking #me

[stuckybarton]

Day xi: Breeding

Summary: Things go into an interesting turn when the Work Wife also become the official wife--soon. Words: 4,457 (i-I don't know how this happened) Warning: Smut. Vaginal Intercourse. Fingering. Creampie. Light Breeding Kink. Slight Angst. Mention of Guns. Slight Profanities. Characters: Mob! Loki Laufeyson x Secretary!Reader

Kinktober Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Taglist || Requests Are Open

"Your usual Coffee?"

"I want something strong today, Love."

Before he could even process what was happening, a steaming cup of double shot espresso was already under his nose, all thanks to his ever proficient and ever dependable secretary, Y/N Y/L/N.

"Thank you." Accepting the cup, his mood had lighten, barely but still much compared to the meeting he had to make with the family and more so his idiotic brother.

You had been his support system for the past three years, from the company to the family business, it was always you by his side to bring even just a smidge of control in his chaotic and far too dangerous life. Thanking the high heavens and one little Jane Foster for recommending you to him, now his life, was perfectly scheduled and arrange for the next two months.

It also didn't hurt to have such a beautiful dame that dressed well enough and always knew how put him on his place too.

"I also need the--" He has barely even said what he had needed but here you were already handing the files for the Avengers joint project. Looking right back at you, the familiar knowing smile rested on your lips. Had he become this predictable that every step he took, you were already a few steps ahead of him?

"Marry me?" He asked and instantly your eyes rolled and you took a sip of your own coffee.

"I'm practically your work wife, I'm practically living in your apartment since someone needed to keep an eye on you and make sure you're actually sleeping, and no, Mr. Laufeyson, I prefer having kids before marriage."

And somehow those fact still haunted him.

It was the truth, after all. You were his wife, in every sense of the world without the documents for it. To be honest, with himself and even the people around him, he preferred your presence over any of the women's he had random romps with. It was never about sex when it comes to you, sure, the idea of turning you into a blissful mess under him was a dream, but you were more than that to him. More than any whores he had ever thought would bring warmth to his constantly cold bed.

Then kids, God the idea of kids during the start of his tenure sounded like a nightmare, a kid did not deserve to endure the same abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father, of his family business, of all the blood and gore that came with this life he was to live. But then he had seen you countless of times, Jane and Thor's children were the apple of your eyes, how little Mary was cradle in your arms, the maternal look looked so perfect on you.

"How many kids then?" He asked smiling, taking a sip of his coffee, a smile on his lips at the hint of caramel against his taste buds. You really know him so well and his secret sweet tooth.

"How many can you handle?" You asked right back.

"If I give you a number, are we gonna start as soon as possible?"

And this was how the conversation usually ended, pinning for one another until you decide it was too much. Unprofessional, was your constant excuse but there wasn't such a thing with the line of work he controls. No one will bat an eye if they love their lives.

"I'll think about it." You smiled, finally excusing yourself before leaving his office. Loki was growing more curious with what he needed to do with you.

~

"He really has a type." You sneered watching your boss talking to another one of the skanks in the bar.

This had now become a common occurrence in Loki's household that you had decided to stop sleeping in the guest room and allow him to suffer his hangover all on his own. You were not to entertain the idea of another one of his whores belittling you, and calling you every name in the book just because Loki would always choose you at the end of the day. But you knew constantly why he would chose you instead of the women he sleeps with, he has his fill with the women on his bed and he has no more use of any of them.

So this is where it leave you. The secretary that has been always in love with your own boss. No matter how many times he would propose to you, no matter how many times he would ask how many kids you would want to have with him, it would always be the same. He will get bored of you and you will be discarded like the rest of the women that had been on his bed.

You loved your job, more than you had initially expected to. Jane Foster was both your best friend and your former boss before she got involved with Thor, with college debt pushing you to your limit, you decided to accept the offer of temporarily working for one Loki Laufeyson. Things just escalated for the next few months and you were no longer the reliever but now a permanent fixture in Loki's work, both for the company and for the family's criminal activities.

"Why don't you two start dating or something?" Darcy had inquired finally making you turn to face your other best friend.

You two were in your usual booth in one of Loki's many bars in the city, it was the weekends and you would be spending time with Darcy and Jane that was taking forever to arrive. You know perfectly well it is because of her clingy giant of a husband, Thor.

"I don't do relationships, Dar." You muttered taking another sip of your gin and tonic before your eyes betrayed you and moved back towards where Loki was. You were lying to yourself. Darcy knew it, and you knew as much.

The handsome man was still in a conversation with the woman. Still in the suit he wore back in the office, he was sin on legs. The custom-made Armani suit radiated power, brought fear on every single men in the room, but the desire of every single women, including you. No one was immune to his charms, not even you, but you loved your job too much to let anything come from the little interaction (flirting, as Darcy points out) you constantly have with you boss.

"You really need to save your boss, I'm perfectly sure he's inches away from shooting the bimbo from the looks of it." Darcy's voice made you look at the scene more critically.

The frown that fell on Loki's face as he looked anywhere else but the woman now, even as she tried to leaning closer to him, breasts almost spilling from the small piece of cloth she would call a dress. Knowing the man for as long as you had, you know that look on his face, he was losing his patience and that was a very dangerous situation.

"Fucking Laufeyson." You muttered under your breath before downing the rest of your drink and standing back up and giving the much needed courage you could muster from the two drinks you've already downed.

"Ten bucks, the chicks gonna cause a scene." Darcy called out as you finally made a beeline towards where the two were. Who knew it would be the best decision you could make.

~

Loki Laufeyson has a code he had always kept. He was never to intentionally hurt a woman or a child.

But the further the night passes, the more and more he is contemplating of whether or not he was going to break his code, even for just tonight. Shooting the annoying bitch might be better than enduring this shit.

"Baby?"

Jerking his head, the sight of you took his breath away.

He had seen you in something else but your work clothes. But things were different with you now. How just a simple word from your lips had already had him hard in the pants, something the women besides you has been trying and failing to do.

"Love," he turned his full attention to you, ignoring the protest of the woman besides him.

Just like that, things were different with you. How quick you were to wrap your arms around his waist, the smell of you he was so familiar with grow stronger with your proximity to one another.

"I could have chosen someone prettier, but beggars can't choosers, right?" The venom in your tone surprised him but he feigned amusement.

"And who are you?" The woman--Bunny? Brianna? He really didn't know or had the will to even know at this point.

"Y/N, I'm Loki's wife." You purred, hand resting on his chest, such a simple gesture sent a shiver down his spine. "And who the fuck are you?"

"I don't see a ring."

"And I don't see any clue that Loki want anything to fucking do with you."

He really tried his best, he really did. But he couldn't help but laugh at how feisty you were. How the dumbfounded the woman was. She could never amount to you, no matter how much she tries.

"So is that enough for you to understand you're not wanted in this situation or do you want me to spell it out for you more?" You inquired and both you and Loki had watched the girl huff before walking away.

Before Loki could say anything, you had already turned on your heels and made your way  back to your usual booth with your best friends, Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster-Odinson. Huh, he's gonna wait for Thor to hound him once again about you.

"Someone's jealous." Speak of the devil.

"My secretary is just looking out for me." He was known as the God of Lies in the family, anyone and everyone could never see through this mask he had made for himself, except you that is. And he knew the title was slowly wearing down at Thor could only look at him knowingly.

"So no feelings for her whatsoever?"

"That is unprofessional." He scoffed.

"Unprofessional?" Thor chuckle clasping on to his shoulders. "Just as unprofessional as fucking the secretary you had before her? Firing her when she caught feelings?"

And just like that, the gun was pointed straight at Thor that barely bat his eyes at his antics.

"It's weird isn't it? How you could have any woman you could ever want but you somehow find yourself falling for the only woman that isn't scared to call you out of your own bullshit and loves her job more than a romp on your infamous bed."

Thor was really testing his patience and Loki was thinking of all the possible reasons not to shoot him then and there. He didn't care that everyone was leaving the bar, he didn't care of the possible consequence this would entail for the rest of the family if he kills Thor.

"You can kill me, Brother. But you need to admit that you love her and you're just too idiotic to admit you know how to love."

"And if I do? If I do love her, then can I place a bullet between your eyes now?"

"No you're not doing such a thing."

Jerking his head, all the blood had drained his face, what had you heard? Before he could even ask the very question, you held onto the gun and switching the safety lock on before shoving it back to the hidden holder in his side.

You really know him too well.

"We're going home. We're sobering you up and you're gonna apologize to your brother in the morning."

For anyone else, Loki being ordered around would mean a bullet to the head, but with you, he complied without much of a protest and everyone could see it. As idiotic as the two of you were acting, there was something more that neither of you wanted to admit.

As your hand held onto his own, he didn't want to let go, didn't want to let you go.

~

"Here." You shoved a bottle of water towards your boss.

It was one thing saving him from another one of his one night stands, it was another to have to save him from starting a war from the family. Loki was becoming more and more of an idiot, and you didn't know if you could deal with him more than you already do on a daily basis.

What if you weren't there to stop him? What if you had chosen a different bar with you friends? Where would Loki be? Would he had fucked the woman at the bar or would he be dead for pointing a gun at Thor, or worse, would be have a target on his back for killing him instead.

"You can't keep acting like Thor wouldn't keep up with your shit."

There was a rule between you and Loki, you were as professional as you could possibly be in the confinements of his office, but as soon as there were things he could need from you outside of it, in his home, things grows personal and the mask you try your best to stay was slid away.

"You keep up with my shit." Loki retorts, taking a sip of the water.

"Because you pay me well enough to keep up with it." You muttered finally slipping off your heels and made your way to the kitchen, as much as you were trying to sober up Loki for his antics, you wanted nothing more than to drink yourself to sleep.

"I don't pay you enough." He retorts right back following you into the kitchen.

"We're not talking about my wage, Laufeyson." You hissed, shoving the fridge open and frowning at the lack of beer or anything you're used to drinking in his home. "We're talking about me getting so tired of saving your ass from your brother and from every skank in New York that think you're God's gift to the female anatomy."

You could deal with an angry Loki, but the sight of Loki smiling only confirmed your resolve about him and about your growing feelings for him.

"Are you jealous, Love?"

Then there was the nickname. A nickname only reserved to you. A nickname that gave you even a twinge of hope that it wasn't one-sided as you always thought it would be. Hope even when you kicked one woman after another from his apartment.

"I'm tired, Loki." You admit instead. Of course you were jealous of the woman that comes and goes in his bed. How could had countless of sleepless nights where you wish it was you in his bed. Loving him, behind the money, behind his position in the mafia, behind the mystery that always come with someone like Loki.

The silence in the kitchen was so unusual, whenever you were in his place, may it be you cooking for him or him washing the dishes for you, there was never a dull moment, conversation was flowing alongside the jabs and laughter.

It was domestic. A life you know you had no right to have with your own boss, but you could dream. Dream as much as you dream until it was no longer possible as you either need to wake up or stay in the nightmare.

You felt so lonely in his home. Just simple question from him broke every little dream you had and it was enough to finally wake up from your own little delusion once and for all.

"So you're leaving?"

"Maybe." You shrugged.

Working for one Loki Laufeyson meant the possibility of your name becoming blacklisted if ever the time comes that you quit, but there would be more opportunities, it might not be here in New York, but your world has been your oyster. With no debt to your name anymore, you could be what you want to be.

But you wanted Loki and that was something that just cannot happen for you and for the man.

It was the marble island separating you two that gave you the chance to just look at him. The anger, the panic, and the hopelessness in his features. This was not the same Loki you had been working for the past three years for. For the first time, you couldn't really read him.

"Don't do this to me, Love." He begged, making a mad dash towards you now until he stood in front of you, in all his dangerous glory.

Without your heels on, he practically over towered you. But the thought was quickly stamped as he falls to his knees in front of you.

"What are you doing?!" You questioned as he held onto hands.

"Marry me, Love."

You tensed, what was going on with him?

"I need you because I love you and I don't know what I will do with my life if you're not here."

You gasped, his confession was the last thing you would have ever thought could happen. But as much as your mind and heart knew the genuinely in his statement, a voice in the back of your head still screamed at you that he was just saying what you wanted to hear. Saying what you wanted to hear, to make you stay and continue with this bullshit.

"You don't." You protested instead.

But the blues in his eyes shone his truth, and in the years of knowing him, you know when he was lying from when he was not. But why did your mind still continue to deny such a fact. All you ever wanted but still it wasn't enough for you to believe.

Why would you? Loki could have any woman he could ever want and you're just--you. The secretary that constantly cleans up for him. Deal with his shit over and over with a smile on your face.

"I do!" He snapped, his voice dropped searching for something in your face. "Don't you get it? Those weren't just jokes with you in the office. I want you, I want you to marry me and have my last name, to give me as many kids as you could handle. All of the things I had once loathed, I want them with you."

"If you don't want to be my secretary anymore, then I'll find someone else, but you need to stay with me. I can't let you go, no matter what you say, you mean more to me than any of this bullshit. The company, the business, they can all burn to the very depths of hell for all I care, but if you leave me, I will go mad and I won't know how to live my life anymore."

"Get up, Loki." You pleaded, denying as much as you could, you were nothing compared to the man, why would he say such things.

He huffed finally standing up and walking away. As his figure disappeared, the first line of tears had fallen from your eyes and you had finally ruined the last chance you could ever have of believing that there was something more with you and with Loki. You fucked up and it was time to leave.

As quick as he left, he had returned right in front of you and back to his knees. But the difference now was the ring that had now was in his grasp. Clenching tightly.

"When I interviewed you for the position, one of your best qualities was how headstrong you were." He began, shaking hand finally opened the velvet box. "But now I've come to realize just how fucking stubborn you were, but I still love you and I would want nothing more than to have you make an honest man out of me."

He was serious, and as your eyes fell at the ring, the sight of Frigga's engagement ring had your heart clenching. From generation to generation, the ring was part of his family. The silver band with a huge emerald was a signature jewelry of the Odinson-Laufeyson clan, a union that everyone took seriously.

"How many can you handle?" You asked right back. The smile finally breaking from your face, at peace with Loki's confession.

"If I give you a number, are we gonna start as soon as possible?"

"Yes." You answered.

"Seven." He whispered, slipping the ring into your finger, a perfect fit.

"How soon are we talking about?"

"As soon as you would want me." Loki's voice grows low as he finally stood right back to his feet in front of you. Lips kissing your hand, close to your new ring. "Y/N Laufeyson does have a ring to it."

"Who ever said I'm taking your name?" You teased before finally pulling the man for your first shared kiss.

~

Pulled into his chest, he continued to kiss you. In nothing but the red lace set Darcy had suggested you were for the night, Loki was close to losing what little control he had left in his body, for you and for finally having you like he had always wanted from you.

You laid down on his bed, with him hovering above you. Coat discarded and his shirt and pants unbuttoned. The light wisp on his happy trail slowly had your hand make their journey towards his underwear, pulling him free earning a surprised gasp from him.

"Someone's eager." He whispered against your lips, jerking his hips against your hands that now held to his growing erection.

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?" You retort right back.

His own hands finally slipping through your panties and was welcomed to your own wetness from just his kisses. His fingers creeped towards your fold, wetness making it easy for him to thrust his fingers inside of you. Slowly, you felt the build up, Loki's lips now fell to your neck, the gentle nipping turned into a full on mission to mark you, in every shape and form he could think of.

You moaned, as the coil was close to snapping, he pulled away.

"Loki," You mewled but the man has other plans as he finally discarded the rest of his clothes until he was butt naked in front of you.

You had seen him shirtless a few times when you has stayed in his apartment, but never under such close proximity. Never when he was the one to finally give you your pleasure that you know perfectly well he was capable of doing.

The last remaining clothes were discarded, glaring at the man for tearing the lace material off--it was growing to become your favorite lingerie after all.

"I promise to buy you new one, as many as you will desire." He vowed pulling you back into a kiss. Fingers returning back to your slit while you continued jerking him off.

The thought of flimsy underwear was momentarily forgotten as you turned your full attention back to him, and back to the pleasure he was handing over to you.

And like a freight train, your first release overpowered all of your senses, Loki was there all throughout, fucking you with his fingers and lips swallowing all of your moans and screams. Your preoccupied hands had also rose towards his shoulder, hoping to pull him away from you, but Loki had another mission as he prolonged your first orgasm for as long as he possibly could.

"Are you sure about this?" was Loki's question as he pulled away from your overstimulated core. A few twitching still remained on your thighs but you nodded at him, trusting him with what he wants. "You ready to give me a baby, Love?" He asked.

The lack of condoms in his drawer made it obvious now to you that he was serious about this, about having kids with you. You wanted it, to have the same thing that Jane had. Your own little Loki you would love more than life itself. You nodded before finally pulling him back into a kiss.

Before long he finally guided his length into you. An unfamiliar burn begins, you knew Loki was big, but you never thought it was this big. So big that you felt so full even when he wasn't even half way inside you.

You groaned when he was finally seethed completely inside of you. Looking up at Loki, he was still. Elbows resting on either side of your head and the thin line between control and just thoroughly fucking you passed through his eyes.

"Let go, Loki." You whispered, cupping his cheeks. "You can fuck me, Loki." You announced and everything just went downhill from that moment on.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled right back and thrusted right back in earning a hiss to pass through your lips but you allowed him to continue with the torturous pace. The impact of his thrust slowly rekindled another buildup inside of you. The moan that escaped Loki's lips was your undoing, as his hands held onto your hips, digging against your skin as his pace turned sloppy and he was close to his own release.

"Tell me to pull out." He demanded, still giving you the choice even after everything.

You whimpered as his dick continued to hit your g-spot. You shook your head, refusing to have him pull out now. Legs now locked around his waist, stopping any attempt of his to try pulling out.

"Come inside me, Loki." You pleaded. "Please, give me a baby, Loki."

Bottoming out, the moaned his lips at the same time he found his release, ropes upon ropes of his come painted your insides. It triggered your own release as you moaned against the crook of his neck. Feeling everything all at the same time as Loki continued to ride out his pleasure alongside you.

Gently, Loki placed most of his weight on top of you. It wasn't as heavy as he had his elbow caging you still as support. He cupped your face and kissed you on top of your forehead. Dick softening inside you still.

"I love you." You finally whispered getting much of Loki's dazed attention.

"I love you too." He whispered and somehow just as quick as the confession left you lips, you felt him grow hard again inside of you. "And I'm keeping your word that you want kids before marriage." He announced before going right back to it.

You both didn't realize that neither of you had to wait long as you found out you were pregnant with your first child before the world had become aware that you two were an official couple.

#loki laufeyson smut #loki smut #loki odinson smut #kinktober 2021 #loki laufeyson oneshot #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson imagines #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson one shot #loki oneshot #loki one shot #loki imagine #loki imagines

[samstree]

A Study in Blushing

In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.

(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)

Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.

read on AO3

“Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”

Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.

The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.

“W...What did you—”

“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”

“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.

Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”

“No...?”

“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”

With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!” he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”

Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”

“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”

“No!”

Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.

“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”

“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”

 ~~

Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.

Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.

Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.

Although that would be really cute.

“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.

Hmm.

No tripping over words.

“Thank you, dear heart.”

He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.

Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.

Not subtle enough.

“Something on my face?”

“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”

Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.

Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.

 ~~

The snow is terrible.

The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.

Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.

Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—

And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.

“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.

“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.

“Here, let me.”

Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.

“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.

“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”

Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”

He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.

Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.

“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.

Oh.

His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold

Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.

A blushing witcher.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”

“Um, sure…not cold.”

And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.

If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.

Geralt does blush.

Because of him.

He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.

Jaskier is so drunk on power.

The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!

Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.

Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.

He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.

And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.

The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.

He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.

“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”

Huh, he’s said it out loud.

“Saying what things?”

Well, if it’s out there…

“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”

His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.

“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.

“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”

“Told you what?”

The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.

“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”

Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.

“You are not making sense, Jask.”

“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.

Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.

But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.

“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”

The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.

“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.

The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.

Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.

“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”

Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.

“Geralt, are you—ow!”

He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.

There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.

“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”

“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”

The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.

“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.

Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.

“You are too good to me.”

“And you are a pain in the ass.”

Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”

“I need to tell you something.”

“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”

“Let me go first?”

The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?

“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”

“Geralt.”

“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t…not…”

“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”

The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.

“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”

The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.

What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“That you are greedy?”

The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.

“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”

“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.

The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.

“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”

Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“Good.”

Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—

“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”

“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.

Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.

Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”

“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.

Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.

For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.

~~

Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰

On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #getting together #requited love #kissing #hand holding #winter at kaer morhen #soft jaskier #geralt of rivia blushes

[damiano-mylove]

How the beloved members of Måneskin act in long distance relationships

im sorry abt thomas but we good to go other than shite writing and cursing *Masterlist*

Vic

In the event of Vic loving a person as much as she loves you, Vic's last wish would be for the relationship to be long distance

Alas, here we are

There is not more than two nights a week where you're not on FaceTime with her till the birds are singing their annoying fucking songs

Vic also writes you letters in her beautiful and unique handwriting, sprays them with her perfume, leaves a lipstick kiss on the bottom of the page, then sends it to you by mail

She never tells you to expect a letter, but it'll be at least once or twice a month

Of course, Vic nips at any chance she can get to see your beautiful face and hold you tight and feel your skin beneath her fingertips

But if the December holidays roll around and you're separated, expect Vic to put her own spin on the 12 Days of Christmas, with each day's gift becoming more extravagant than the last

For your birthdays, she'd fight tooth and nail to be right by your side as you blow out the candles, but if she couldn't, expect a massive delivery for your birthday; a letter, some of her clothes, a blanket, a small bottle of Vic's perfume, etc.

Vic doesn't like not being right there with you, but you two can always get through it because you're so hopelessly in love that not even distance may infringe upon that

Thomas

The clingiest motherfucker under the sun

Thomas would literally do anything and everything he could just to catch a glimpse of you, in-person

Constant texts (yet somehow he knows when to stop before he gets annoying), always asks to ring you (if not, he'd ask for a voice message because he 'can't live through a full day without hearing your sweet voice'), letters letters letters

Anytime he'd see you, in the flesh, there would always be an hour dedicated to photos, so he'd always have something to look at when his heart ached for you

Thomas would literally rather pay for you to be beside him (plane fares, train tickets, anything) than to be without you

However, the love you two share would be flexible to long distance, it would just be rougher because Thomas needs that physical tether to someone

I regret to say, I doubt Thomas would ever start a relationship online, but he certainly would be open to continuing one in a long-distance way

To get into Thomas' heart, you need to physically be there

But really, so long as he has a picture of you smiling, with his lips against your temple, he'll be happy as a clam

Ethan

Ethan would literally never hang up on FaceTime

You would both fall asleep on FaceTime, do menial tasks on Facetime, cook and eat together over FaceTime

It sort of became the stand-in

The only time you both weren't on the phone would be when one of you took a shower or left your homes - which was getting rarer and rarer as the days drew on

Ethan detested being away from you, and while the FaceTiming satiated him a bit, it was nothing like the real you

Your physical quirks weren't always visible over the phone, your laugh didn't hit his ear the same way, the sun didn't quite shine upon you as it did when he was seeing you with his own eyes

Virtual you was about a trillion times better than no you at all, so Ethan took what he could get

Without a second thought, Ethan would always be angling to see you, anytime and anyway he could, in person

Ethan would be the most content with a long distance relationship, but that does not mean that his heart wouldn't feel cold and empty during those periods without your voice in his ear or face on his screen

Damiano

Goddamn is this man ever hard to pin down

You both agree, it's stupid to basically dedicate your lives to calling each other

Instead, you both live your lives, but call whenever both of you were at home and not doing anything - Damiano didn't want to force his way into your schedule, and nor you to him

Not negating the previous points, do not think for a second there wouldn't be constant reminders of who you were in a relationship with

Damiano found the number of your local florist shop and had them deliver you various bouquets, all with meanings of love, every four days at 9 am like clockwork

Your closet would be half yours and half Damiano's, and the same for him, as you both mailed each other your clothes to wear to just to hold to your nose (either at night to assure peaceful dreams or in the mornings to put a pep in thy step)

Long love letters would routinely be sent to your address, and always signed by 'Your Secret Admirer'

He wasn't fooling anybody, but Damiano wasn't trying to fool anybody

The letters would be written by fountain pens, on slightly discoloured paper, with scratch outs and ink blots, and the occasional absurd doodle on the backside

Like previously stated, Damiano didn't want you to resign your life to being on the phone, but he more than certainly wanted it known who you belonged to

alr you dirty bitches, ici is the request, however im pasisng out as i type

#maneskin #måneskin #victoria maneskin #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #thomas maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #ethan maneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #damiano david #damiano #damiano maneskin #damiano david x reader #fantic #x reader

[ceilingfan5]

ice cream please 🍦🍦🍦

"You know, my nephew thinks this is a front for something?" Kravitz tries, and mostly fails, to not look and sound like he just chased down an ice cream truck to flirt with the ice cream guy. Pathetic, you think. Maybe so. But have you considered: the ice cream guy is incredibly, incredibly cute, and Kravitz has had at least three dreams about him since the last time he watched Angus? Exactly. 

Oh lord, how did it come to this. 

"Fuck, you've found out my secret," Ice Cream Guy laughs, covering his beautiful gap-toothed smile. He's more freckled than a strawberry and twice as sweet, at least when he's wearing his customer service hat. Fuck's sake Kravitz, you think. Let the guy do his job without being flirted with. Ah, but ICG flirted with him first. He wrote his number on Kravitz’s palm the last time he bought Angus ice cream. 

Unfortunately, it washed off. This is the greatest tragedy the impartial face of the sun has ever beheld. Also, it sucks. 

"Yeah, for sure." Kravitz winks--Jesus Kravitz, winking?? This is just embarrassing. At least you didn't drag the kid into it again. Yes. This is true. Angus is at a science museum with his grandpa this weekend and was not available. "You know, when I was his age, I literally thought that meant, you know, washing the money like clothes? And then I heard how nasty money really is, and I wished it was true. Honestly, the fictional mob in my head is doing this country a real service." 

ICG laughs again, his nose scrunching up so fucking cutely Kravitz might have the asthma attack he's only delayed, you know, from the running after a moving vehicle with off-brand cartoon characters painted on the sides. 

"Honestly, same! Do you know how often I get money from a bra or something? Nasty. That mob in your head had better get around to it." 

"I'll let them know." He winks. Oh, divinity, he winks. "Hey, um, I, um." 

"Great start." 

Kravitz’s cheeks heat up. 

"I um, as much as I would like to give you some money for goods, I super am actually out of change? I gotta be honest, I really only chased you down because I washed away your number? I actually have my phone on me this time-" 

ICG laughs like this is the funniest thing he's heard all week. 

"Shit," he says, wiping a tear away. Angel. Who said that? "I thought you'd decided not to text me! Damn. Here, it's, um. It's Taako? T-a-a-k-o." And he rattles off his number, as Kravitz dutifully types it into a new contact, and also tries not to do a little jig in the street. he can't believe it was this easy. Who could have predicted that asking for something would end in receiving that thing. He has to tell the scientific journals about this asapity. The world needs to know. 

"Incredible," Kravitz says, half to himself. "Incredible. I- I really, I'm sorry, I really feel like I should buy something? I only have a dollar fifty?" 

Taako leans on his elbows and returns that wink with extra force behind it.

"You could just put it in the tip jar." 

"Fair point." And he does. Because he is a fine summer gentleman, and maybe a tip will distract Taako from how sweaty he is. "I should, uh, I should let you get back to taking money from babies, but-" 

"But text me, yeah?" Taako grins. "You're too cute to let slip away." 

Kravitz sweats harder. 

"For sure, for sure. Just, don't, text and drive! Haha. Okay. I'm going, I'm going to go. And you're going, to. Keep working. Okay. Um. Thank you for saving my bacon with the number. You know, hygiene, it, um."

Taako laughs. 

"Lighten up, my guy," he says. "Summer's full of possibilities. Say, if I make enough money in this piece of shit, I can make a down payment on a food truck and really get the ball rolling, you know? That dollar fifty you gave me is pushing a dream uphill. So, I mean. Thanks, yeah?" 

"Yeah," Kravitz says dreamily. And Taako wraps things up and drives off, waving to Kravitz as he goes. Kravitz clutches his phone and, as soon as the ice cream truck is out of sight, absolutely does dance in the street. 

Thank God for nosy children. 

#taakitz fic #taakitz #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone balance #the adventure zone #fan5fics #romance

[blzzrdstryr]

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Albedo #Yandere x reader #Honestly it's not very yandere #My sleeping pills don't work again #my writing

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

XIII.

(Part 3/3)

He hurried to his seat only grabbing a glass of champagne before he disappeared behind the curtains to the VIP area. Satoru was certain Suguru would be here to see you and he wanted to avoid confrontations.

Once in the privacy of his balcony he sat down and sighed, he was nervous. It wasn’t like you were going to see him and yet his heart wouldn’t stop beating erratically thinking about the fact he would be so close to you and watch you do what you love the most.

Finally after almost half an hour everyone was seated and the curtains were lifted. The story unfolded before his eyes. He has seen this piece before, you performed as Clara back in Tokyo but in this occasion you were the alluring Sugar Plum, even the part fitted your sweet personality. When you finally appeared on the stage he moved closer to the edge of the balcony, his heart melted once more and he was reminded of how absolutely gorgeous you were. He was… enamored with you once more. Your grace, precision and artistry was remarkable. You had gotten so much better since the last time he watched you perform. Satoru was speechless as you executed a sequence of pirouettes en chaîne. Followed by a pas de chat. The whole scene was spectacular.

By the end of the performance he was standing up, clapping with a huge smile across his lips. You had been perfect. He was proud of how far you have come. Regardless of how you felt about Satoru he had come to terms with the fact he would always love you and would always support your dreams. You deserved the world, even if it wasn’t by his side.

Gojo wanted to go to you and talk to you but it would not be a good idea. More than anything he was scared thinking about how you would look at him. What if the next time both met you didn’t feel anything for him anymore. Satoru wouldn’t be able to stand it if he saw it in your beautiful e/c eyes.

Sighing he grabbed the single red rose he brought in with him and warped to your changing room before the dancers came back. There was a sign with the name Ekaterina Petrova on the first door down the hall backstage. He entered it and immediately was welcomed by your smell. Costumes hanging in an open closet. Your bag, regular clothes, ballet shoes and a vanity filled with make up and hair styling tools. Swallowing hard he walked to the vanity and settled the red rose for you but before he left he couldn’t help but steal the red scarf hanging on the back rest of the rolling chair in front of the mirror.

He warped back to the balcony where he sat down and buried his face on your scarf. Your scent could not compare to the perfume he used back home on his bed. You smell was a mix of your perfume of roses but there was also hints of honey, and something else… something sweet that was part of your person. Making your aroma impossible to emulate.

Stroking the fabric he thought longingly about you. He needed to see you, just once more… once more, he promised himself and then he would leave you be. Just… one more time.

He warped to the rooftop of the building next to yours and waited for you to get home. You got out of a cab alone and then walked in. You were alone. How strange, wasn’t Suguru with you this evening? Or was he waiting at home for you? But he lights in your apartment were all out. Removing his sunglasses he couldn’t perceive the raven haired sorcerer’s energy. He wasn’t home, maybe he was away in a mission.

A part of his mind screamed it was the PERFECT opportunity to see you! There was no Suguru around to interfere this time. Satoru groaned, he promised he would leave you alone and wouldn’t try to bother you but… it was so hard, having you so close and yet so far. Would you be mad at him if he showed up at your door? Would you kick him out in the cold?

Biting his lower lip he decided just to watch you for now. Staying away was not without effort but he tried his best.

Gojo watched you go through regular routine, you went for a shower and after that you walked out with your wet hair and a set of flannel pajamas into the kitchen where you poured a glass of red wine for yourself. Once more you disappeared down the corridor and he was sad to think maybe you went to bed and wouldn’t be able to see you again but you showed up on the roof top of your building. Leaning on the edge you sighed « Happy Birthday Satoru » he heard you whisper to the wind and only then Gojo realized today was his birthday… you still remembered. You still thought about him!

Fuck it!

He warped behind you, watching you from a few feet away, he didn’t want to startle you when you were so close to the edge of a very tall building so he waited for you to turn around. When you did your eyes opened wide and your glass slipped your fingers. He caught it with his infinity preventing it from spilling and breaking in a million pieces.

Panic washed over your features and before you could run Satoru stepped in front of you not touching you but still trying to prevent you from leaving « please, don’t run away from me… y/n, I’m not here to hurt you… I just… wanted to see you. Nothing else, I promise » his tender tone and kind eyes told you he was honest « wh.. why are you here? » you asked trying to control yourself. But he could almost heart your heart racing while you looked at him “ I came to see your performance tonight…” he confessed his little secret “you were absolutely spectacular Y/N! I don’t think I have ever seen you dance like that… it was… beautiful” he added with a little smile “th… thank you” you answered with a blush.

-

What the fuck! Oh my god! What is he doing here!? Your thoughts raced through you mind a thousand miles per second.

As much as you convinced yourself you were over your ex husband you couldn’t help the reaction of your body. There was still a big part of you that instinctually reacted to his presence. You were actually excited to see him.

“How… have you been?” He asked you “I’m… alright, I’ve been….fine” you admitted “how about you?” Could this be the first steps you took to heal? Maybe trying to be civil instead of running away from him “I… uh… not as well as you” he admitted with a boyish and bashful grin taking a hand behind his neck scratching it. “You know… same old, same old” of course if you considered the fact he lived in misery, thinking about you all the time and missing you in his life like a lovesick fool. Yeah, same old. Same story since you left.

“I… uh… good, it’s good to know you are alright” you added awkwardly. How was one supposed to treat a person who was everything in your life once but now was not even part of it. There was something utterly bizarre about acting so detached with a man who had seen, touched and fucked every inch of your body for about 6 years of your life! And now you both played your part as polite acquaintances.

“Where is Suguru?” The curiosity was killing him “He had a mission in Portland, he had to leave for a couple of days” you answered honestly “I see…” Satoru didn’t want to cut his time with you but his brain wasn’t cooperating, he needed an excuse… anything to just spend some more time with you before you kicked him out again. Fuck! God! Anything! Please! He didn’t want to leave you, not yet… just a little longer. But he didn’t know what to do or say to buy himself more time.

“S… Satoru… would you like to come in for a glass of wine?” You asked shyly. It was his birthday after all. He could have been anywhere in the world he wanted in this day. Hell! He could have been partying the night away in a club in Tokyo, instead he was here. He came to watch you dance… half way across the world.

“YES!” He replied too enthusiastically “I… I mean yeah, thank you I would like that” if he was a dog he would be wagging his tail by now. He followed you inside and took a seat next to you at the kitchen table after you poured him a glass “I know you don’t really like wine because it’s too bitter but I don’t have champagne” you offered a little apologetic smile “don’t worry about that! It’s alright… I can enjoy a glass of wine here and there” he replied taking a sip with a smile. He couldn’t believe you actually invited him in, he must have died and gone to heaven!

“Happy birthday…” you say softly looking into his beautiful cerulean eyes. Satoru smiled tenderly at you and looked at you with absolute adoration “thank you….” There was no other place in the world he would rather be right now, no other person he would rather see. This place and this moment meant everything to him.

The intensity of his gaze made you blush and look away. “I… have some red velvet cupcakes… would you like one?” Gojo nodded enthusiastically “I would love one” he watched you stand up and walk to to the fridge where you pulled out a plastic container with cupcakes. You placed it on the table and offered him one. He took it from your hands making sure his fingers touched yours in the exchange. Pure thrill electrified his body when he felt the warmth of your fingers on his skin. You looked into his eyes, he knew you felt it too but the moment was broken when you pulled your hand back and hurried to sit back across from him. “Thank you…” he took a bite of his desert and moaned in delight. He recognised the flavour of your recipe. You baked those yourself. “This is amazing Y/N” he praised your cooking with a delighted moan as he finished his cupcake and then went for another. You chuckled, some things never change. Satoru’s sweet tooth was the same as it had always been.

“Thank you… I tried a couple different ingredients this time” you confess making the white haired sorcerer swoon “it’s fantastic” you were fantastic. God! He had missed you so much! Fuck… seeing you so close, breathing you in, having you at his reach was killing him. He wanted to close the distance and wrap you in his arms.

A sudden movement from the corner of his eye alerted him of something climbing on his lap. He almost jumped out of his skin before he made sense of what it was. A little meow told him a feline had decided to make him his seat “and who is this?” Satoru asked petting the chubby and cute tabby cat that was now making itself comfortable on his lap “oh! Sorry about that! That’s Kiky,” he smiled and looked at the cat who was now purring “don’t worry… you know I love cats” he added chuckling, the gesture made your heart warm. “she usually is not this nice to anyone other than me…” your little kitten was even a little wary of Suguru. Geto explained it was because of his technique, he had too much chaotic cursed energy contained within him out of consuming curses which in exchange made cats not like him. Satoru on the other hand had a more stable flux of cursed energy that was an inherent part of himself which in exchange attracted felines to him.

“Well I am glad Kiky approves of me” at least someone in your household did! That was progress… right?

After that you both talked about cats while Kiky slept on Satoru’s lap, he kept letting the animal while your conversation went well into the night. It was as if an unspoken truce have been settled between the both of you. Talking about your career and his missions, a little bit about movies and shows you both watched, connecting in an innocent way.

“It’s getting late…” you said looking at your phone which read 2:33am “y… yeah, I should probably go back to the hotel and let you rest…” he said in a deflated tone. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he had to give you your space. “Thank you for the wine and the cupcakes” Satoru said while carefully moving the sleeping Kiky to the couch “of course… you are welcome” you said walking to the door with him. Satoru stopped and turned around to look at you. He wanted to close the distance between you both and kiss you with all his might. He couldn’t do that, he had to respect you. But he couldn’t help himself when he pulled you in for a hug. You were frozen for a minute before you replied wrapping you arms softly around his waist. “Thank you Y/N” you heard him say “Happy Birthday” you whispered once more before the sorcerer pulled back reluctantly “thank you” it was the best way he could have celebrated this date. With you.

By the time he got back to the hotel he went to bed with a huge smile on his face. Best birthday present ever, he got to spend it with you.

———> Chapter 14

Tags: @sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@okkotsuoasis

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

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@actualdeemon

@janenks

#gojo x you #jjk #gojo saturo x reader #jjkgojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

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

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

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

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “As in bi-curious?”

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

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

    ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

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

  He’s lying. You can tell.

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

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

  He’s angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

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

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

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

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

  “Tell you what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

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

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

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

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

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

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

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

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

  “You’re bossy today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

        ||\\

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

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

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Thank you.”

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

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

  “Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

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

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

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

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

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

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

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

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

  “Last time you said that…”

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

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

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

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

||\\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

  “What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

  “Who is it?”

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

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

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

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

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

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

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

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

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

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

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

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

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yoongi, what-“

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

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

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

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

   Brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Why not?”

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

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

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

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

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

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

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

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

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

   ||\\

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

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

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

  No. He promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I’m sorry.”

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

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

  “What, now? Y/N-“

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

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

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

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

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

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

 ||\\

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

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

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

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

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

  “H-How come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

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

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

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

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

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

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

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

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

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

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “My place.”

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

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

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

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

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

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

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

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

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

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

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

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

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

  “Not even then.”

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

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

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

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

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

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

  Alright. Great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “B-But the protocol-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

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

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

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

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

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

  “So you rebelled?”

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

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

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

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

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

  “Because of the devil, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

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

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

  “Then why?”

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

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

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

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

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

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

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

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

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

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

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

  “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

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

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Can we go home, please?”

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

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

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

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