#i considered hands cupping a flame but 1. hands hard and 2. that's too close to Xtian symbology

[mankillercalledbunny]

Hestia being my favourite goddess because of what she stands for (home, family, loyalty, warmth, connection and community): nice

Hestia being so ubiquitous in the ancient world that they didn't think to write anything down about her, meaning we have no myths or symbols for her that I can use for, idk, a tattoo maybe: Less Nice

[writer-and-artist27]

[Image Description: Two screenshots from Fate/Grand Order, showing in order, (1) The Bond Level Up screen for Rider Achilles, where his Bond Level has gone up from 10 to 11 and the game’s reward of 30 Saint Quartz and 20 Servant Coins; and (2) the Bond Level Limit Released screen for Achilles, showing his Bond Level Limit having increased from 11 to 12. End Description.]

I've been sitting on this achievement for about 4-5 days now, and my best Rider honestly deserves better than that, I think. Then again, considering his own myth and how he took Patroclus' passing as hard as he did, I know he wouldn't blame me for my writing being quiet.

Still wondering if I've really been feeling my grandpa's spirit hug me from behind every time I sing the Vietnamese hymm to let him go onto Nirvana leading up to the 49th day of death...

Ah well. The least I can do is write for him again with what energy I have.

Thankie, Achi, for being my first 5-star Rider. Thankie for being a great Hero.

Was listening to this song I picked out for the Passing Days OST when brainstorming.

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

Sometimes, Achilles could still remember the unease. The unending discord, the quiet foreboding. Even his goddess mother Thetis had cried tears over such things, much to his small, lingering regret as he went on to be the hero she wished him not to be.

It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling either, but it didn't make it any less uncomfortable when sensing it start to trickle down his spine at the sight of Vy wordlessly offering yet another Bond Chalice to him, smiling through the fatigued lines and dark shadows underneath her eyes. He knew she was a selfless, caring girl like that, giving Servants food and rest like they were people and not just heroes, but Achilles wondered sometimes, when the exact moment was in her life where she stopped looking after herself.

There was only so much Novum Chaldea could do, and "enough" was still a subjective term for things with the Foreign God lingering on the horizon like a motherfucking demon that really needed to get her head out of her ass.

Even then, the exasperated smile tugging at his lips was real as he reached past the rainbow flame, past the gold cup keeping him in the room, to rest his hands underneath the arms of the oh-so-human girl who summoned him.

Before, in another world, he had to serve a priest who had far too lofty goals for Achilles' liking, probably as nothing more than an extra bodyguard if Amakusa Shirou Tokisada had anything to say on the matter. Or Semiramis, being such a pompous, dishonest queen. How Atalante agreed to working with them back then was beyond Achilles.

Here, however, in a world that was Bleached beyond repair, he could at least be another Hero, a successful one this time, to a girl who deserved to be saved at least once.

Achilles could see Vy's lips move in a wordless cry of his nickname (heck, their bond could let him hear her voice it without it taking physical sound waves in the softest, sweetest tone, even when he knew she would only ever love one Hero as a man in her heart) once he lifted her up from her place trying to hand him another gift, letting the Bond Chalice fall to the floor of the Enhancement Center with a clatter. In his arms, she squirmed, looking more like a child than a weakened, traumatized Master with her loose ponytail and the wide look in her brown eyes that reflected his image. Still, her hands rested on his shoulders, not even giving a sign of resistance as he brought her close to him.

Bump, went their foreheads.

"Silly Master," he whispered in response to the questioning muu that Vy made as he closed his eyes. "You gotta remember you matter before you lose your voice trying to give me things."

I won't treat you like I did Penthesilea. Never.

Vy croaked a soft, "A..." just as Achilles bumped their heads together again. "Achi..."

"No buts, Princess," he continued, adjusting his grip so that she was protectively nestled into his chest, her hair tickling the side of his neck. Her waist was tiny in his arms, thin despite the muscle and taut flexing that served as proof of her training outside the simulator. "I told you with the first Bond Chalice, remember? I lost one love before." No. Maybe two, when counting the Great Holy Grail War. But still. He rested a hand in those long brown locks of hair, stroking it quietly. "I'm not going to stand losing you."

Achilles only let himself relax and press his cheek into the top of Vy's hair once he heard the squeaked, "O... Okay."

It was something, at least.

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) ( Complete )

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 

 Chapter 2 

 Chapter 3

 Chapter 4

 Chapter 5  

Chapter 6  

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 ( Final ) 

Something about sitting on the counter in Jungkook’s kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt and chopping carrots , while the clock read 2.20 AM felt so right, that I couldn’t stop grinning. 

Jungkook was singing softly and apparently singing was yet another thing he was ridiculously good at.

“You’re singing at our wedding. You sound like an angel.” I declared, pointing one red veggie at him.

Jungkook laughed.

“Sure, what song?”

“Something sweet and nice and-”

“ Take off those heels- Lay on my bed- Whisper dirty secrets as I’m pulling on your hair.....” 

I glared at him. 

“absolutely not.”

“Aww Come on... “ Jungkook gave me the full brunt of his puppy eyes, “We should be true to ourselves and lets be real, yes I enjoy being corny and romantic with you but...it’s in the bed that we truly shine as a couple.” He grinned, bunny teeth poking out in an entirely too adorable way considering that he wanted to sing a fucking sex song at our ‘not-even-sure-if-its-happening wedding’ . 

“No one else needs to know that...” I shuddered. My sister would expire on the spot. 

“ They will when we sneak out at the reception to have sex in the closet.” 

“In my wedding dress? Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes glittered. 

“We’re going to be married in the Maldives. You’re going to be in a bikini.” He said casually. 

I blinked.

“A bikini?”

“Yes. A bikini. The kind I can undo with just a couple of tugs on a string. “ 

“You’ve...given this a lot of thought.” I smirked.

He nodded.

“I am...but only because it’s damn near impossible to think of anything else when you’re in front of me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”.

He shrugged,

“Even picked out a ring.”

“Liar.” I hissed and he laughed.

“You’re right. I haven’t picked a ring. We’ll pick one together ....when we want to get married.” 

“But...thats ...not anytime soon right?” I said nervously. Jungkook gave me a smile, moving back to stirring the saucepan with the meat and adding some sauce. 

“It doesn’t have to be ever. I’m happy this way. If one day you wake up and feel like you’re missing a ring on your finger, we’ll go do the whole wedding shebang. If not, that's fine too. We can spend the rest of our lives being the horny couple everyone avoids at family gatherings. ” he shrugged. 

I laughed but felt my heart expand a few sizes inside me. 

“Thank you.” I whispered and he leaned over the counter to gently grip my chin, planting a soft kiss on my lips. 

“No one else gets to say what we are. No one else gets to say what we can or can’t do. Okay?” He rubbed his nose against mine and I nodded.

I bit my lips, thinking about something that had always bothered me. 

“Your parents-” He cut me off before I could finish.

“I won’t lie. They’ll probably want me to...reconsider.” He sighed. “ But I don’t think they’ll give  you  a hard time about it.. They’re polite and good people. Just have a different idea of what I need in a wife.”

I played with the hem of his shirt. 

“Sana , she’s-” i couldn’t even say it, just looking up at him. He was already staring at me. 

He nodded, smiling a little.

“Someone my parents have been trying to set me up with, yeah.” He admitted. 

“You didn’t turn her down ...” I said softly, feeling hurt . 

He stared at me, turning the heat down on the pan before coming around to stand in front of me. 

“Hey, come on, don’t look like that, baby...”

“And she’s going to be there at your fight today and-”

“I just didn’t want to pick a fight with my parents before today’s match. Because believe it or not, I was going to ask you out today , after I won.”

I blinked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

“Really. I... you’ve been staying over and stuff, and you actually looked jealous of Sana so I thought...you know maybe you’ve changed your mind about us.... So I wanted to ask you out. And I wanted my parents to  be in a good mood when I told them I’m with you. So I indulged them a little , that’s all.” 

I nodded. Talking about his parents made me think of my own mother and God, I could feel a headache coming on. But I had to tell him the truth. 

“My mom...she’s...she’s a little...”

He squeezed my knees, leaning closer and bumping my head with his.

“I’m not the kind of guy women usually want to bring home to their parents, but i will wear a nice button down,  brush my teeth  and get a whole bunch of flowers for her when you ask me to.” He whispered. 

“She’ll only want you for your money.” I blurted out.

He straightened, looking confused.

Embarrassment flooded me but I had to be honest with him.

“My mother, she... she got used to a really luxurious lifestyle with my dad and when he died, she just...she couldn’t accept that she’s going to have to give up a lot of stuff... So she’ll try to get you to buy her things. I’ll try to keep her away as much as I can but-”

“I really wouldn’t mind buying her stuff-”

I shook my head fiercely.

“No..No..that’s... I can’t ask you to that.”

Areum look at me-” He demanded and I stared at him. 

“You do know that I’m like, filthy rich, right?” He said firmly.

I rolled my eyes.

“Yes but-”

“Buying your mom a few trinkets every month wouldn’t even put a dent in the amount of money I make in a fucking  hour.” He raised both his eyebrows.

I frowned.

“Okay, stop bragging.” 

He laughed. 

“ I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about it okay? Besides you can always repay me for it. “ 

I gaped at him.

“I cannot repay-”

“In kisses.” He finished. 

I stared at him, not fooled at all.

“And office sex. I really really want to spend a whole entire day at work with you wrapped around my cock...not even fucking,,,just you in my lap, me inside you.... Its like my biggest fantasy.” His eyes looked a little glazed. 

I felt heat rush all the way up to my ears, my face flaming. 

“You’re insatiable” I muttered, whacking his shoulder. 

His eyes shifted, gaze darkening and heavy with something that was more than just lust. More than just attraction,. It was heavy and over powering, strong and impossible to ignore. It was so heavy and dark and sensuous and yet somehow so achingly soft and affectionate. 

“It’s never enough, “ He leaned in close, curving fingers on my waist and kissing my neck. “ After two years, I tell myself I should have had enough of you but...” He brushed his lips against mine, “   It’s not. I want to touch you more. I always come away from our time together wishing I could touch you some more. Want to touch you more, take in that scent of yours, watch your eyes flash when I make you cum. ” 

He grabbed my knees, spreading my legs and I became acutely aware of being completely naked underneath his shirt. 

“We’re not having sex on the kitchen counter.” I protested, laughing  and he hummed, kissing my jaw gently.

“Come on, its a rite of passage. Its not true love if you don’t have sex on the kitchen counter while your dinner burns on the stove...” 

Oh, well. 

Maybe he was right. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Should i just forfeit the match tonight?” Jungkook whispered, voice muffled against my shoulder blades as he pressed soft little kisses to my skin , deliciously slow and gentle. 

I frowned, face down on the soft duvet on his bed, fingers curled into the fabric, trying to chase sleep. 

The slightly golden light spilling into the room told me it was morning, but still pretty early. We could definitely afford to sleep in a few more hours at least. It had been almost four in the morning when we had finally fallen asleep. Jungkook had wanted to leave the kitchen as it was but I couldn’t fathom leaving some poor maid the task of cleaning cum off the mahogany surface. 

“Why would you say that?” i said, surprised. 

Jungkook sighed.

“I don’t know. “ He pulled away from me and rolled to the side. I stared at him as he gazed back at me. 

“What’s wrong?” I whispered, genuinely concerned.

He gave me a soft smile.

“It’s just a thought. I have it every morning of a major match.” He ran a palm over his face, mussing up his hair bore reaching out to press a kiss on my forehead. 

“Is it nervousness?” I asked, feeling anxious. There was something oddly frightening about seeing this side of Jungkook. I’d only ever seen the cool, confident asshole. The one that had no qualms about taking what he wanted, when he wanted. 

And I felt .... like it was a privilege he was granting me, letting me see the vulnerable side to his well earned cockiness. 

He shook his head. 

“It’s not. I’m not worried about losing, wouldn’t even mind losing once in a while.”

“But you don’t... you’re literally incapable of losing, golden maknae...” I teased and he rolled his eyes. 

“It’s actually about you.” He reached out and cupped my cheek gently. 

I blinked, pressing my own fingers over his. .

“What?”

“I’m not sure you’ll....like  that  side of me.” He said hesitantly. 

“Jungkook...”

“A large part of why I never let you see me fight is because, I’m not a nice person in the ring. I don’t show a lot of mercy ... I sometimes use more force than necessary and well, there’s nothing beautiful about beating the shit out of someone is there?”

I swallowed.

“You think I’ll see you differently, if I watch you fight.”

He nodded. 

“Won’t you? It’s not a very dignified sport.” 

I hesitated, not sure what to say to that. 

“I’ve not... I don’t think I’ve ever thought it was weird, in a bad way, that you boxed. I just thought it was something you were good at. It’s not... I don’t think I feel that deeply about it.” 

He nodded.

“I believe you . But it still worries me. I’m just scared I guess...”

“Scared..?”

“Scared that seeing me in the ring will make you change your mind about us.” 

I jolted, stunned. 

Moving quickly to his side , I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him hard. 

I pulled back to glare at him.

“I’m not going to leave you over a sport you play.” I said drily .

He chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose.

“If you say so.”

“I’m serious. I’m not a delicate flower, Jungkook. I’m not going to enjoy watching you get hurt, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just...give up on everything that you are.... because of this.” 

“You’re right.... I’m sorry if i worried you.” He said softly , and it was so disarming, how much adoration was writ large on his features.

 I was used to the lust and the passion and the roughness but this Jungkook, the tender, gentle lover....he was sending me into a downward spiral. 

“This is weird.” I laughed a little.

He grinned.

“What?” He scooted closer, reaching out to gently hold my hand.

“You...being so...” I stopped when he stroked the delicate skin on the back of my hand with feather light touches. 

“So...what?” His eyebrows quirked up, teasing and I felt myself blushing so furiously . 

“Stop it...” I whispered, mortified with how hot my face was getting. That tender, adoring look on his face was making it impossible for me to breathe.

Jungkook gave me a wicked smile and carefully slotted his fingers between mine, holding my hand gently before raising it up to kiss my knuckles.

“What’s making you turn so red, angel?” He pressed soft affectionate kisses, on each knuckle and then the inside of my wrist and I smiled so wide my cheeks began to hurt a bit. 

“Jungkook...” I could barely get the words out and it was so incredibly embarrassing that something as innocently affectionate as him holding my hand was filling me with an incontrollable urge to just burst into tears. 

“ I love you...” He whispered , blowing gently on my fingers. 

“Oh, God...” I could feel my soul threatening to leave my body. 

“Love every little bit of you...” He rolled over me, straddling my waist , arms caging me in as he pressed one soft kiss to my temple. 

“I’m going to cry.” I said firmly.

“Love that you’re so brave, so unafraid. “ He kissed the edge of my brows., “ love that you stand up for yourself, love that you don’t take shit from anyone, even me and I love that you’re here. In my arms. Like this, although I don’t deserve you at all, my beautiful goddess....” he whispered. 

The nickname made me astral project for one hot minute. 

Determined to get some control back, I grabbed the drawstrings of his sweatpants, untying the loose knot before slipping my fingers into the waistband. 

“Hmm... you’re right. You don’t deserve. But because I’m a generous generous goddess, how about I let you worship me, the way  I  deserve ....” I whispered, tugging his pants down, pushing the fabric past  his muscled thighs. He laughed.

“And how would that be?”

“Let me use that hot, thick dick of yours... Wanna ride it till my thighs shake, make you cum so hard you’ll see heaven...” I whispered and he rolled his eyes. 

“This is supposed to be a soft moment .... and all you’re interested in is my cock , you dirty little-” He choked when I shimmied down, quickly. Scooting down the bed till i was face to face with his dick, his thighs straddling my chest and his cock right up against my mouth. 

I licked the tip, gently. 

“I love you too..” I whispered, wrapping my lips around the soft head , letting my lips suck on the sensitive skin, tongue licking the soft underside as he grabbed on to the headboard to steady himself. 

“Areum-” 

“Love how much you care for me,” I ran the tip of my tongue all over the head , getting it nice and sloppy, “  how upset you get when I’m hurting....” I opened my mouth wide, lifting up just a bit to suck more of him into my mouth. 

“Oh God-”

“Love how kind, and talented and nice you are. Love how good you are at making me feel good. No one makes me feel as good as you do, Jungkook...” 

He was staring down at me, eyes blown with a mixture of arousal and affection, fingers carding through my hair gently.

I gave his hip a small pat.  

“Fuck my mouth... i can’t suck you off like this.” I squeezed his ass , enjoying how hard it felt beneath my hand. I gripped his thighs, stroking them up and down, leanly muscled and corded with strength. 

And then, completely losing my senses, 

“Namjoon’s thighs are a little bigger than yours right? ”  I said thoughtfully, completely serious and not even realizing what i was saying and  who  I was saying it to until his grip on my hair tightened hard enough  . 

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he was off me in a second. 

The look of sheer and absolute horror on his face made me laugh so hard i nearly choked. 

Growling, he grabbed me by the shoulders, flipping me over so fast, i bounced off the mattress. I laughed into the fabric of the pillow . 

“Jungkook, i was just jok--” I got cut off by a smack to the back of my thigh, hard and stinging. 

“Hyung’s thighs? Really, Areum, you wanna got there?” He smacked me again, and I whined. 

“Is this any way to treat a goddess?” I choked out, struggling to crawl away but he held me down easily. 

“Shouldn’t ever go soft on you..., called you a goddess one time and suddenly you wanna be a little brat about it......” He grunted, fingers closing around my upper arms and pulling my hands back so hard that my shoulder actually popped. 

He pulled me up till I was on my knees, his chest pressed to my back as he gripped my wrists hard. 

“Ow!! I’m sorry!” I yelped, but he wasn’t listening,  and I grinned when i felt the familiar cold of metal on my wrists. 

“You’re so easily riled...” I added a slight lilt to my words, knowing how much it annoyed him. 

He didn’t disappoint, grabbing my chin hard and yanking my head back so I could stare at him. 

“Only when you forget your place, angel.” He whispered . 

“My place?” I blinked innocently. “ And where is that?”

He gave me a quick bruising kiss.

“In my heart most of the time. But right now, on your knees up against the head board so I can fuck your brains out.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I love you.” Jungkook said cheerfully, leaning against the wall and grinning like the Chesire cat. I straightened from where I was kneeling, tying my sneakers. 

I stared at him, completely amused.

“Jungkook you don’t have to say that so often...” I shook my head.

He frowned. 

“I like being able to say those words to you. I spent entirely too many months thinking them and not being allowed to say them.”

I felt my heart melt a little. 

“I love you too. “ I whispered.

“I wouldn’t mind you being there, you know. I know I said all that stuff, but if you really want to see me fight from up front....” 

I shook my head. 

“Its alright. I won’t be anywhere near the front and I’ll make sure to look away when you’re punching your opponent. “ I teased. 

He sighed.

“Just remember that’s not who I am, okay? I... I love you.” He said again.

“Now the word’s just beginning to lose all meaning.” I laughed. 

He looked hurt at that.

I rushed to sooth him.

“I’m just joking, I’m joking... Of course it has meaning and i love that you’ve suddenly turned into a love bot, but let’s just... tone it down. Just a little bit.” I pinched my fingers together,.

He tugged his lower lips between his teeth.

“You’ll be okay to get to the venue by yourself right? I’m going to take a shower and a nap before I head there.”

“I’ll be fine.” I waved him off. “ We’ll meet up after you win and celebrate properly.” I winked, giving him one last kiss before waving bye. 

As the door closed behind him, I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear.

Ain’t love grand? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was wrong. 

I couldn’t do this.

“He is so hot. Oh my God, you’re so lucky, Sana...look at his fucking abs.” 

I willed myself not to take a swing at the girl next to me. I wanted to clench my fist, raise my arm and just let loose till she was knocked out on the floor. The women from the office had seen me hovering awkwardly at the back and swooped on me like a pair of vultures. 

I’d been swept to the very front with them, my protests falling on deaf ears and now, suddenly I had front row seats to watching the love of my life get hurt. 

There was nothing even remotely enjoyable about watching Jungkook get hit. And although it was clear that he was winning , clear that he was so much better than his opponent, there was no denying that the other guy was good too.

And the two times he had managed to catch Jungkook off guard, landing a couple of punches, my entire heart had cracked into two. 

“He’s going to be my husband...can you believe?” San whispered next to me and I startled.,

Oh God. 

The girls looked at me eagerly.

“Oh...that’s yeah. Sounds amazing.” I smiled. 

“He could probably like fuck you against the wall, “ Jieun whispered, giggling .

Sana blushed so red I wanted to scream.

“So hot... Do you think he’s... you know...big?” She nudged me lightly, laughing. 

Oh wow. I clenched my fists, feeling rage fill my veins so fast that I saw red. 

But I was saved by the sound of a commotion up front and my head whipped around, panic setting in. 

I stared at the ring. Jungkook stood back while his opponent was flat on the floor, unmoving. 

Great, these horny bitches had made me miss him taking the winning shot. 

i watched the referee kneel beside the prone man, counting slowly and I saw Jungkook turn to stare right at me.

“He’s looking at you, Sana... He’s looking at you, look!!” Jieun grinned. 

I bit my lips, smiling at him. 

“I think you should go to him.” The girls told Sana and I jumped.

What the fuck??

Unable to bear it, I pushed past them, ignoring their surprised squawks as I pushed past the crowd to the aisle. 

“And , ladies and gentleman, we have ourselves a winner. Give it up for our very own, Jeon Jung Kook!!” 

The crowd went wild, the referee raising his hand up in victory.

I ran all the way up to the ring, narrowly missing the guard near the front and crawling up into the ring. 

Jungkook stared at me, wide eyes as I jumped on him with a running leap. 

He caught me around the waist easily, laughing. He gripped my butt, hoisting me up and I wrapped my thighs tight around his waist. 

“Oh, wow”. He whispered, but I was too busy searching the crowd for the three girls who had triggered me into this madness. 

Sana and her two friends stood slack jawed, eyes wide as saucers as they stared at me. 

I snatched the mic out of Jungkook’s hand. Glared right at them. 

“To answer your question...yes.. he’s big. The biggest I’ve ever had and what’s more he knows how to use it too. Also, stay the fuck away from my boyfriend and stop talking about him like he’s a piece of meat, you whores. You do know I work in the HR department right? I will file sexual harassment suits on the three of you so fast you’ll-” 

Jungkook grabbed the mic out of my hands before I could finish, looking absolutely horrified. 

“You crazy little bint!” He laughed aloud and I pouted.

“They’re taking about your dick. I don’t like that.” I protested. 

“Baby, you know my dick is yours.” 

“Damn right it is.” I said firmly. 

He grinned a bit. 

“And so is my heart.” 

I let him kiss me, the background noise and the sound of of cheering fading away as I let my eyes flutter shut, reveling in just him. 

Of course, we had things to do. Meet our parents. Make our relationship public.... a whole lot of messy grown up stuff that would annoy the fuck out of both of us. 

But for now, kissing him in front of everyone, ignoring Namjoon’s screams of, ‘ Jungkook there are reporters here!!! ’ and my sister’s shouts of, ‘ stop you heathens’.....

Well, this felt just right. 

The End .

Authors Note : Well, this was a whole entire journey wasn’t it!!!!! I will deeply miss Jungkook and Areum, I loved them with my whole entire heart. I hope you guys loved them too... Let me know if you did... As always, feedback is much, much appreciated !!!! Thank you for sticking by.  Love and kisses. 

taglist : 

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@bonyg 

@craztextae

[xlovelyyoongix]

happy birthday | myg

♥ summary: When a birthday foot massage turns into something a bit more interesting 18+ ( established relationship) 

♥ paring: slight dom yoongi! x f. sub reader (established relationship)

♥ warnings: SMUT! swearing, female receiving, multiple orgasms , over stimulation, creampie, squirting and use of a sex toy.

♥ a/n: Not gonna lie I wrote this for myself on my birthday because I’m such a simp for Min Yoongi. Also, I apologize that this post is a day late. I watched Day 1 and Day 2 of the MOTS 7 concert and I was so sleep deprived so please forgive me. Enjoy! Feedback is welcome!  

You always hated being the center of attention, in a room full of crowded bodies with all eyes on you was never your forte. So, when you explained to your boyfriend of 2 years that you wanted a simple celebration of your birthday, he promised you just that. Your special day consisted of breakfast in bed, shopping, a movie, and dinner at your favorite restaurant. To others, a birthday spent like such would be considered a boring one, but for you, a day spent with Yoongi by your side was perfect.

"This was such a fun day!" Your exhausted body pushed through the door for your apartment, dropping your shopping bags on the living room table. "I'm beat!" Kicking off your shoes, your body collapses on the couch, releasing a heavy breath as your lashes flutter shut to relax.

Yoongi closes the door behind him, chuckling at your animated demeanor. "I'm glad you had a great time,__" Before anything else, Yoongi escaped into the back room, only to reemerge with a few items in his hands, an eager smile stretched across his face. "But it's not over yet."

Your lips curve in question, "Huh?" and the moment your eyes blink open, a romantic flickering of dim orange light begins to dance across the apartment walls along with the soothing scent of lavender. Your brows crinkle together, dimples digging into your cheeks upon realizing, Yoongi lit your favorite scented candle. "What's this about?" You pull yourself up with a toothy grin in observance of the scene before you.  

A twinkle of delight shimmers within Yoongi's onyx orbs, taking a seat on the carpet between your legs. "Your last gift of the day." His proud gummy smile gleaming up at you.

It wasn't until Yoongi gently placed your foot onto his lap, removing your socks, that you realized what he was doing. Your cheeks lighten with an innocent hue as his long fingers brush against your tiny toes. "Y-Yoon?" You question, with a rapid heart beat.

"Hm?" He questions, pulling a bottle of oil out of the silk bag only to pour a modest amount into his hand. "You act like I've never touched you before,__" His hooded eyes dart up at you, though only for a second before talented fingers are massaging the warming oil into the balls, arch, and toes of your foot.

"Mhm..." A small moan vibrates from the back of your throat, the newly found pleasure rippling throughout your being, practically melting your body into the sofa. "Feels good~" You purr.

Yoongi takes pride in the blissful expression plastered across your face. "I'm happy you're enjoying yourself." Voice music to your ears as his fingers work between your toes, ankle, and back up the sole of your foot. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

"Okay." Your lashes flutter shut, body loosening up as the soothing scent of lavender sways within your nostrils. Yoongi, being skillful with his hands, takes his time and massages all the spots you seem to like most. He doesn't speak, merely allowing you to fully embrace your very own euphoria.

You're unable to recall a time your body experienced this type of tranquility; with work and school swallowing your livelihood, you're surprised you're able to even manage a relationship with your hectic schedule. Always a paper due, an extra shift that needed to be worked. There were times you barely even had time to sleep...

"SLEEP?!" Realizing your body was a bit too tranquil enough to doze off, your back arches off the couch, frantic eyes darting across the room in search of your boyfriend. Had it already been that long he chose to leave for the night? "Yoongi?"

"Don't worry, you weren't asleep for too long." A teasing smirk pulls across his full cheeks, taking a seat on the floor between your legs again. "Had to wash my hands and get your other present." Unlike before, his demeanor changed. His hooded eyes, a shade darker than normal, tongue lapping across his bottom lip, along with a seductive arched brow. Surely, Yoongi was up to something.

"I thought the foot massage was my last gift." Your head tilts with confusion.

Yoongi chuckles at your obliviousness, placing a pink rectangular box on your lap. "This is just the other part of your present." He nudges you to open it.

You sport Yoongi an -what are you up to- expression, only for your curiosity to become interrupted by the heaviness of the box. What else could he possibly be gifting you with after a day of shopping and dinner? "Okay." Your fingers slowly unravel the bow, careful with removing the lid. The moment your eyes make contact with what's inside, your jaw drops in awe at the objects.

"I saw you googling them a few weeks back. I figured I'd get the set for you." There's a moment of hesitation in Yoongi's tone, your silence instantly forcing him to contemplate his gift. "I-It is what you wanted,.. right?"

Your eyes bounce back to your blonde-haired boyfriend, noticing the doubt trickling across his expression. "Yes, Yoongi, it is!" You praise, heart fluttering that your boyfriend paid that much attention to notice your personal interests. "Thank you so much!" It was a set of 3 clear glass dildos, all shape and length in different sizes, with adorable pink, heart-shaped handles at the end.  

Regaining his confidence, his blond head slips between your legs, lips ghosting over the sensitive spots of your inner thighs. “Ya, know..." Mint breath slapping across your skin, causing a delightful shiver up your spine. "We can test them out right now if you want." His jet eyes cutting dangerously at you before placing a kiss on the spot that causes your abdomen to tense deliciously.  

With the tempting look in Yoongi's eyes and the grip he has on your thighs, your body heats with desire, feminine core throbbing against the now annoying material of your panties. "I-I mean..." You swallow hard, attempting to catch your staggered breath. "D-do you want to?"

A dimple forms in the crevice of Yoongi's cheeks, snickering at your timid question. "Of course I want to, kitten..." He purrs, fingers working to unbuttoning the metal of your jean shorts. "But today isn't about me, is it?" dark eyes rolling up to you while the echo of your zipper tauntingly fills the room.

If you blinked, you would have missed the dark, carnal switch that happened deep within Yoongi's eyes. Clearly, he was ready for whatever the night had in store. You gulp, "No," You answer back modestly but also notice the rising heat growing between your thighs. "It's about me tonight." You answer back with a nod, slightly more confident than last.

Yoongi snickers devilishly at your reply. "Yes, it is." He pulls at your jean shorts, helping you shimmy out of them. Yoongi gestures at your shirt with a tempting bite of his lip only for it to disappear behind you a second later, leaving your body in nothing but a black bra and panties set.

Your boyfriend takes in the magnificent sight of your hair framing around your adorable cheeks, romantic flames of candlelight across your skin and eyes, and your practically nude body that lit a hungry flame within his core. "Fuck..." Unable to hold back any longer, Yoongi lunges forward, harshly gripping onto your thighs as if to hold you in place while his plush lips place rough kisses and love bites along the innards of your thigh.  

"Mhm, Yoon..." Your hips stutter forward, a zap of electricity zipping up your spine, awakening your body with a fevering heat.

As Yoongi's tongue laps across the sensitive parts of your inner thigh, his sneaky index hooks onto the wetness of your panties, slowly sliding down the flimsy fabric before tossing them over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. "Hope you're ready for your gift." His tone holding velvety dominance as his lust-filled eyes peer up at you.

Before you could even mutter a response, Yoongi's crafty tongue laps across your throbbing slit, hands spreading your thighs open for better access. You release a whimper, and the moment his lips latch onto your pulsing clit, your hips snap forward, tongue slipping and sliding between your folds, leaving you a stuttering mess.

Taking his time, Yoongi lapped figure eights around your sensitive nub, large hands cupping at your ass cheeks, sliding you forward into his mouth. "You taste so good, kitten." Words vibrating against your delicate flesh as he spoke.

Even with his tongue moving so deliciously between your slit, body floating into cloud nine, the flame burning inside of you craved more. "S-so good b-but...please~" your walls clenching around nothing in dire need to be stretched. "Inside~." You mewl with a needy wiggle to the edge of the couch.  

Yoongi cocks a brow, peeking up at you while working your marvelous wet pussy. "You can't wait anymore, can you." He teases with a confident chuckle. "Your pussy is always so needy for attention." He cheekily mutters, slowly slipping two long digits into the slick of your folds.

"Fuck!" You yelp at the instant pleasure of Yoongi’s curving fingers locate the spongy surface of your inner walls. Back arching off the couch only to roll deeper into Yoongi's thrusts and tongue. "So good..." Managing past the dryness of your throat to whimper.

Yoongi's fingers pump in and out of your gushy slit with ease, tongue attacking your clit for maximum effect. "I want you to cum." the curve of his digits jabbing at your g-spot. You whimper a moan, walls tightening around his knuckles, sending waves of pleasure through your core. "I want your pretty pussy to cum all over my face, kitten."

Feeling your orgasm quickly approaching, the pit of your abdomen tightens in a knot, tight pussy swallowing long fingers, teasing at your approaching release. "Y-Yoongi..." You pant, fog of tears swelling at the corners of your eyes, cheeks a misty hue with thighs opening as wide as humanly possible for your boyfriend's assault on your pussy. "G-gonna cum.... Uughh." Your fingers thread through Yoongi's blonde tresses with a yank, guiding the male's mouth all the places you need him most.    

Yoongi snickers at the aggression you have with his hair but doesn't let up. Feeling your soaking muscles clenching around his digits, your fucked out expression says it all, that you're ready to burst at any given moment. "Be a good girl," His fingers pick up their pace, assaulting the sweet spots of your insides at devilish speeds. "and cum for me."

As if on-demand, the tight knot built in the pit of your abdomen finally bursts, sending your body into an eruption of pleasure. "FUCK!" Your back arches off the couch, vision clouded with an assortment of colors, legs collapsing into jelly, as your sopping pussy leaks creamy arousal.

Plunging from the high of your orgasm, your exhausted body plops back onto the sofa, glistening sweat built across your brow with lungs heaving for breath. "So good." You murmur with what little strength you have left.

Yoongi snickers at your weakened expression. "We're not done yet,__" His words are sly as he opens the birthday box that contains a multitude of glass pleasure wands. "Which one should I use on you first?" He takes a second to observe, index tapping his chin in thought. "Got it." Picking out the wand, he knew would send you over the edge.

"H-huh?" Before you could comprehend what was happening, a sudden stretching of something strong and firm slips inside you. "Hmhmm." Your body awakens again, teeth digging into the bottom of your lip as your hips unknowingly roll forward, allowing the glass dildo to plug into your soaking slit.

"You almost forgot about this, didn't you?" Yoongi grins devilishly, the deep ridges of the wand satisfying your greedy entrance.

Your body shutters with delight at the feeling, lashes fluttering as your neck rolls back. With your body still processing the high of your first orgasm, you feel a new wave of arousal collapse over you. "You wanna make me cum again, Yoongi~?" Your once shy innocence, now engulfed by the sparks of lust dancing within your hazed eyes.

Yoongi wiggles a brow at your confidence. "You know it, kitten," he answers back almost too quickly. "Let's see what this thing can do." And without the need for direction, Yoongi slips the rigid object back into the hilt of your core, tilting at just the right angle.

"Shiiiiiit." Yoongi picks up his speed, your ass cheeks bouncing on the glass dildo as he rams it in and out as if it were his profession. Your walls take a liking to the newly discovered object, aroused and clutching tightly around the ridged glass, welcoming it deep within your pussy like the slut it was.

Being the generous pussy eater that he was, Yoongi positioned his mouth against your overwhelming heat once again, plush lips latching onto the sensitive nub, nibbling and sucking all the while thrusting your new favorite toy into your shameful entrance.  

A new wave of pleasure zaps through you. "F-fuck, Yoon!" Unapologetically, you grab at your boyfriend's blonde hair, pulling and yanking at the tresses as if your life depended on it. Your brows furrowed together and teeth tugging at your bruised lips as your foggy gaze peers between your legs at the man feasting upon you as if he were starving. "Yoongi, s-so good." Your neck rolls, the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns, threatening to rupture your release.

Your pussy is gushing, sending streams of milky arousal down the shaft of the dildo and onto Yoongi's glistening chin. Even though he couldn't feel your muscles tightening within you, he knew you were reaching the peak of your second orgasm; your words slurred, legs shaking uncontrollably along with the death grip you had on his hair. Yoongi smirks, your incoherent and shaken state, stroking his ego.

Your body uncontrollably humps into Yoongi's mouth, hips matching the rhythm of the glass wand slamming into the wall of your cervix, hitting all the spots you need it most. "P-please..." You're a whimpering mess. "Baby, m-make me cum again...wanna so bad..." Addicted to the taste of release, you plea your boyfriend to fuck another orgasm out of you like that dirty whore that you were.

More than happy to oblige your request, Yoongi stiffens his tongue, lapping over your glistening clitoris at record speed while your soaked pussy sucks in the rigid wand. "Cum,__" He orders with a stern tone.  

As if Yoongi's voice was the switch to your light, the tightness within your abdomen snaps on queue. "Shit!" You're crying out again, white noise clogging the tunnels of your ears as your vision fogs with an explosion of different colors. Your lashes flutter the tears from your eyes all the while attempting to catch your staggering breath as the second orgasm pulls from your body. "W-wow,..." Your nearly horse voice stutters out. "T-that was great I-"

The moment your glossy orbs stutter open, you're immediately met with an immaculate sight. It was none other than Yoongi standing proudly naked before you. Smooth, ivory skin that seemed to glow under the romantic candlelight. A hard chest that sculpted into a lean abdomen, showcasing a happy trail of hair leading down to the object you desired most to see. "We're still not done, kitten," Yoongi smirks devilishly, gripping at the base of his thick shaft, standing proudly.

You gulp, the curve of his impressive dick bobbing against his lower abdomen, thick veins protruding from the sides of its girthy shaft. Hungry, Your eyes follow up to the summit of it's red, angry tip, slit oozing delicious pre-cum. You lick your lips at the sight, aroused walls clenching around nothing.  

Yoongi stands over you, stroking his monstrous dick with a bit of dominance. While he patiently took care of the needs and desires of your body, Yoongi's dick grew angry and more impatient against the fabric of his boxers. Finally freed, it was more than ready to plug deep into the warm, wet sleeve of your walls. "Tell me what you want, kitten." Yoongi's voice dipping an ungodly tone.

"I-I..." You know precisely what you want, for your boyfriend to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk in the morning. The heat and slick of your previous orgasms, still fresh between your legs, ready to be put to good use, but you wonder if your body can take it—the anxious build-up of another orgasm. You swallow hard at the thought, eyes faced with the perfectly crafted perfection, which was Yoongi's hard dick, a erection you didn't want to go to waste. "I w-want." Your eyes flicker back up at Yoongi, shimmering orbs glowing with desire and lust. "I want you to fuck me, Yoongi." Your voice, dripping with confidence.

Leaving no time for his response, Yoongi pens your legs back with a growl, using his free hand to align his angry tip to the soak of your heated entrance. His hooded eyes cut to you, giving one final look, "Happy birthday, kitten." and as quickly as the words fell from his lips, Yoongi sends his hips soaring forward, plugging his dick deep within your walls as if he were a missing piece to your puzzle  

You wince at the sting of his stretch, girth unmatched to any finger or sex toy that could be purchased. "Yoongi~" Due to the multiple orgasms your body endured, the stretch of your entrance was met with a tasteful mix of pain and pleasure. Your orbs slamming shut, releasing a stream of lovely tears from the corners of your eyes.  

"Fuck your so tight." Yoongi grunts, gripping onto your thighs as if to hold you both in place. "So fuckin' wet." He leans in, his button nose ghosting over yours as his lustful jet eyes peer into your glossed orbs. "My perfect peach." It was then his lips forced onto yours, tongue dancing within your mouth to give you the sweet taste of your arousal.

You moan into Yoongi's mouth, welcoming the taste of your own pussy as thick thrusts pump into your core. "S-so good." You're a whimpering mess, hips rutting forward as the song of slapping skin echoes throughout the living room.

Typically, Yoongi was slow and patient when making love to you, but something about watching your pussy orgasm and your lips moaning his name awakened a carnal side of him, hidden deep within his psyche. "Sorry, I'm so rough...mhm." Yoongi grunts, eyes rolling while your juicy walls hug around his hostile dick.  

"I-its okay..." Your fingers grip onto Yoongi's shoulder blades, nails digging into his flesh as he pounded into the spot that made you see stars. "Fuck, just don't stop." Your walls begin to clutch around him, along with the tight build-up of the familiar knot in your abdomen; however, this time is different. A pressure building behind the structure of your pubic bone that you desperately want to find the reason behind. "Y-Yoongi...." Somehow your release feels out of reach "I-I don't think I-I c-can." You whimper, feeling as though your maximum peak was untenable.  

"Y-yes, you can, kitten." Yoongi huffs out, placing kissing and love bits along the lobe of your ear and the curve of your neck. "Cum for me again." Knowing exactly what would bring you over the edge, Yoongi snakes his arm between the two of your sweaty bodies, fingers locating the ball of your clitoris, slowly swiping across the needy nub before attacking with rougher speeds

"Naha!" An electric jolt zips throughout your body, causing your back to arch off the couch. Your senses are on fire. The sweat dripping down your flesh, Yoongi's breath puffing into the shell of your ear, skin rubbing against one another as his thick dick takes you savagely. Was there ever a better feeling than this?

Like a volcano about to erupt, your body begins to shake, unholy moans screeching from your throat, as the knot in the pit of your abdomen becomes incredibly tighter as a sudden urge to pee spikes. "F-fuck Yoon, I... I-I t-think I'm gonna..." And just like that, the build-up inside you snaps, an explosion stronger than ever before. "Fuck!" Your soaking pink muscles push out, liquid squirting out like a waterfall as colors of red, purple and blue, fog your blissful vision, body going limp    

Your warm wetness sprays across Yoongi's pelvis, lines of pearling liquid trickling down his flesh. "Kitten, did you just...?" He silent for a moment upon realizing what exactly just happened. You squirted, the evidence of your unholy release trickling to Yoongi's shaft, still plugged into you. "So. Fuckin. Hot!" The carnal need to release overpowers Yoongi, large hands grabbing hold of your hips, and he snaps his thrusts at record speed. With your walls sucking in Yoongi's girth, the tease of release trickled throughout his body. "F-Fuck, kitten, gonna..." He releases a throaty grunt. "Shit!" One final thrust and he was over the edge, ropes of semen coating your insides like a painter, his canvas.

For a moment, Yoongi's body is in tranquil bliss, limply plummeting onto the couch to lay beside you. The two of your eyes following the shadows of candle-light  flames dancing around the walls as you gasp for air. "Wow." Yoongi snickers with a toothy grin. "I can't believe you squirted." He comments proudly.

You giggle. "I didn't even know I could do that." Responding between breaths.

"Well, know that I know how to make you squirt," Yoongi pulls you into his chest, fingers caressing your hair as he places a kiss atop of your glistening forehead. "I'll be sure to fuck that glass dildo into you more often." His lips pull into a smile while taking in the beautiful sight, which was you... "Happy Birthday, __."

a/n: this is the first time I’ve posted a smut that is this detailed. So, if you have  any pointers or recommendations on how I can improve, please don’t hesitant to reach out. Thanks for reading! ♥

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

It was a recurring dream of hers.

She was sitting behind the desk in a room she couldn’t recognize. There were three other desks there, a big shelf, filled with documents and a black, leather coach. On a desk in front of her, there was a computer, a dozen of folders, pens and used coffee cups scattered around, and on the edge stood a plate. For some reason, Hange was sure that her name was written on it. There was another plate, which was propped up on a desk that was set beside hers. Hange took it in her hands numerous times, trying to see what name was written there. The letters were always too blurry for her to understand.

Evidently, she was inside an office of some sort. The place seemed familiar, extremely so. Hange knew that there was a small crack in the window behind her desk, she knew that her chair creaked whenever she shifted her sitting position, she knew that the best tea was kept on a lower shelf.

And despite all the evidence that she knew this place, she couldn’t remember if she had ever been here. Or who she shared this office with.

In her hands she held a photo album and her fingers slowly traced one picture after another. Each page showed different groups of people – there were a lot of them, but there were only two men, who appeared at each photo. One was tall and blonde, the other one – short and dark-haired. Hange was hugging them in each picture, her face shining with happiness.

The men, however, had no faces.

Out of the dozen people who stood next to Hange on these photos, no one had a face. They were just silhouettes, blurry and hazy.

Same as Hange’s memory of them.

She knew they were important, knew that she loved them, dearly so, but she couldn’t remember them. She didn’t know who they were, she forgot their names and faces, couldn’t recall how their voices sounded like or how they took their coffee. Her mind was like a book that once was filled with memories. But now all the pages were torn out, leaving just the title and the beginnings of first chapter.

It pissed Hange off, it left her frustrated and confused. Who were these people? Were they colleagues? Friends? Family? If they were so close to her, where were they now? Why weren’t they still by her side? Had they left her? Why was she left behind?

These questions tormented Hange. Every time she woke up after that dream, she couldn’t help but ponder upon it, desperately searching for an answer. That’s why she hated this dream so much, it wasn’t as bad as the others ones - the ones about fire and child’s screams and— no, these were the worst, always making Hange wake up in the middle of the night with a hoarse scream on her lips. Dreams about her forgotten life weren’t much better, though. They made her feel so uneasy because—

Because she missed them. She didn’t know these people, had no clear memory of them, but still her heart ached to see them. There was a longing inside her so severe she felt like there was a huge hole in her chest. She had so many feelings, so much love to give—

But there was no one she could share that love with.

Usually, after a dream like that, Hange was reluctant to leave her bed. She could spend literal hours, chewing on her thumb and trying to regain what was lost. Sometimes she could almost see it, the beginning of a memory, a flash of something familiar, but it always ended there, never reaching anything conclusive. Didn’t stop her from trying, though.

This morning, however, was vastly different. This morning, the time for pondering was cut off abruptly, when someone had woken Hange up by roughly kicking the leg of her bed.

She woke up immediately. For a second she was confused, and then— then she got angry. She opened her eyes and put on her glasses, preparing the deadliest of glares for whoever had deigned to disturb her sleep.

Of course. It was stupid Floch. Hange threw a pillow at him, aiming right at his idiotic face. It hit him right in the center of his ugly forehead. If she wasn’t so pissed off, Hange would have laughed at his perplexed expression.

“The fuck are you doing here?” she asked furiously. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not allowed inside my apartment?”

Well, calling the place, where Hange lived, an apartment was quite possibly a huge exaggeration. Her home consisted of one room, a bathroom and a balcony so small she alone could hardly fit there. Zeke claimed that she started living there years before the accident that caused her amnesia had occurred. But, as with everything Zeke had told her, Hange found it hard to believe him – the apartment, when she returned from the hospital, was barren and lifeless. She couldn’t quite imagine living in such pristine place, especially considering the amount of clutter she had accumulated just after a week of living there.

But why would Zeke lie to her? She asked herself that exact question more times than she could count.

“Zeke wants to see you,” Floch told her, bringing Hange back to present.

“Cool,” she stood up and pushed past Floch, heading to the part of her apartment she proudly called the kitchen. In truth, it was just a tiny corner of her room, where a refrigerator and narrow countertop stood.

Yawning, she started the coffee machine and opened the small cabinet, searching for a clean mug. She needed to do the dishes, Hange noted to herself.

“Your place is like a junkyard, four-eyes. You’re living in a dumpster like a fucking raccoon.”

Hange softly chuckled. As with her strange dreams, it wasn’t the first time she had heard this voice. It often appeared inside her head, commenting on situations she had found herself in. Sometimes it gave her valid advice too. She didn’t know if this voice was a sign of her declining mental health, something that should definitely alarm her, or just a repressed memory of sorts. She tried not to think about it too hard. That voice brought her some comfort, and she was always happy to hear it. She couldn’t remember the name of its owner, of course, and since it was sarcastic and often quite rude, she nicknamed it simply ‘the grumpy one’.

“What are you laughing at?” Floch seethed, following after Hange. “And didn’t you hear me? Zeke wants to see you. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making coffee,” Hange shrugged. “I’d offer a cup to you too, but, unfortunately, I have no poison to go with it. Don’t take it personally,” she smiled, baring her teeth.

“It’s urgent,” Floch pressed, glaring at her.  

Poor thing, Hange thought, as she was filling her mug with steaming coffee, he was probably thinking that he looked fearsome. In truth, Floch reminded Hange of an angry cat, who could do nothing, but hiss.

“If that was actually urgent,” Hange murmured, taking the first sip from the mug. “He wouldn’t have sent you.”

For a moment, Floch was silent. Hange’s smile grew bigger, as she waited for him to catch on. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in shed after all.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly. He clutched his hands into fists, his chest moved up and down, as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. Hange barely kept herself from laughing. It would have ruined the effect.

“I’m implying, my dear Floch,” she lifted a hand, reaching out to his cheek to pat it with a condescending smile. Floch recoiled from her in disgust. “That you’re not the man Zeke trusts the most. I don’t think he trusts you at all,” she added with an infuriating smirk.

Floch growled, taking a step closer to her.

Hange watched him with giddy trepidation. Was he going to punch her? God, she wanted him to punch her so badly. It’d give her an excuse to punch him back.

“Try to be more civil, Hange, I know that he’s a jerk, but you both are a part of one team.”

That was another one of her voices. This Hange named ‘the serious one’. It was always spoiling all of the fun, but she couldn’t deny it – nine times out of ten, that voice was right in denying Hange her amusement. It was the closest thing she had to an impulse control.

This time, she decided to listen to it too, even though she wanted to have fun so, so much.

“I need to go and take a shower,” she announced, putting her mug with unfinished coffee back on the counter. “And if you, Floch, do not wish to join, then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Ugh,” Floch cringed at her suggestion. “Not in a million years. But hurry up. You don’t want to anger Zeke, do you?” curving his lips into a smug grin of his own, he gestured to Hange’s face. “I’m sure you remember what happens when you misbehave.”

The house, engulfed in a bright fire, a child, begging for help, the black smoke and hot flames, the weight of a small body in her arms, the sharp edge of a knife that punished her for saving an innocent life, the pain in her left eye—

Hange shook her head, pushing these memories to the back of her mind. It was enough that they haunted her at nights, she wouldn’t let them torment her during daytime as well.

“Just go already,” Hange sighed, walking past him. “Tell Zeke I’ll come to see him soon.”

 ***

Hange’s ‘soon’ came almost an hour later. Whatever Zeke needed from her, it definitely wasn’t urgent. If it was, he’d sent anyone else, but Floch. On bad days, that guy couldn’t be trusted even with tying his own shoelaces.

She closed the door to her apartment and walked up the stairs to get to the third floor. The previous headquarters of their criminal organization was blown up - damaged weaponry was to blame, or so Zeke said. And ever since, they’ve been hiding in one of the abandoned buildings at the outskirts of a city. The first floor was designed to hold the higher ranked members of a gang, the second was for storage, and the third floor was what Zeke called his briefing room.

The whole floor was used for that exact purpose, in a center there was a long oak table and all around it were plastic, uncomfortable chairs. On the wall behind, Zeke put up the writing boards, although Hange had never seen someone actually use them. They probably were there to simply create an entourage and not serve as something truly useful. Even man as efficient and cruel as Zeke wasn’t immune to bursts of theatrics, it seemed.

When Hange entered the briefing room, there was no one but Zeke and Pieck inside. Hange grinned instantly, waving to Pieck with a clear glee, reflecting in her glasses.

Hange liked Pieck. A lot. Pieck was overly sarcastic and in all the time they knew each other, Hange honestly didn’t remember if they had at least one friendly exchange, but Pieck was funny. And trustworthy too. When Zeke had punished her for saving a child of his enemy, Pieck was the one, who helped her treat the wound.

However, if there was no one there, but Pieck, it meant that Floch was right. Zeke wanted to tell her something important. Something he wanted to keep a secret.

“And here you are!” he spread his arms in welcoming gesture. “We’ve been waiting for you for quite a while.”

“Then let’s get it over with quick,” Hange trudged up to one of the chairs and plopped down on it heavily.

“Your desire is my command,” Zeke put on a pleasant and obviously fake smile. Hange didn’t smile back.

“There is someone I need you to meet with,” Zeke began, lighting up a cigarette. Hange cringed in disgust, she hated cigarette smoke. And Zeke knew it.

“Who is it?”

“A past associate of mine. We’ve… drifted apart after the accident. I need you to go and see if we can rekindle our love.”

“And…” Hange tilted her head, observing Zeke carefully. “Why does it have to be me?”

Zeke shrugged. “You’re smart, Hange. And, unfortunately, the same can’t be said about all of my employees.”

“You’re the only one I can trust with this, Hange. I know you can do it.”

Hange had to blink a few times, because this time… it wasn’t just a voice. No, she could also see piercing blue eyes and strong jaw. She could see them as clearly as she saw Zeke and Pieck in front of her. Zeke’s eyes were blue too, but nothing like that vivid, bright color Hange had just seen. What was it? A memory? A vision? Was she truly losing her mind?

“…Oi, you weirdo, hey— goddamn it, Hange, do you hear us?”

She instantly snapped back to reality.

“Yes?” her lips curved into a lazy smile, as she turned to face Pieck. “Do you need something, dear Pieck?”

Pieck didn’t roll her eyes or even scoff. Instead, she continued to carefully survey Hange, chewing on her lip worriedly.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked after a moment, her eyes still following Hange’s every move. “It looked like you just blacked out or something. Were my concerns about your sanity actually correct?”

Good question, Hange mused internally.

Externally, she waved Pieck off, putting her arms behind her head and sitting back in a chair. She relaxed in her seat and willed all of her troubling thoughts away.

“Everything’s awesome, dear Pieck. So,” she looked back at Zeke. “Who do I have to meet?”

“His name is Djel Sannes,” Zeke answered, looking at Hange just as intently as Pieck did moments ago. “He’ll be waiting for you this evening in an underground parking lot of the local police department.”

“Police department?!” Hange frowned, taken aback. “Are you insane?”

“What?” Zeke smiled innocently at her. “Is there going to be a problem?”

“Duh,” Hange threw her hands in the air. “It’s a police department, Zeke!”

“Yeah,” he took a drag of his cigarette and then slowly released a white, fat ring of smoke. “And what of it?”

“Have you forgotten,” Hange gritted through teeth. “That we’re members of a fucking gang?”

“We’re a part of a criminal organization,” Zeke corrected, his face contorting in disgust. Of course, how Hange could forget. Calling themselves a gang was too unsophisticated for his snobby ass. “And don’t you worry,” Zeke sent her another smile. “That’s why you’re meeting in a parking lot. No one will know that you’ve even been there. Besides, you’re not going alone.”

Hange lightened up. “Pieck is coming with me?”

“No,” Zeke’s tapped his fingers on a table’s surface, and Hange had a sinking feeling that told her she would really hate his next words. “Floch is going to go with you.”

“Fuck, no,” Hange answered immediately. “I won’t go with that jerk, no fucking way.”

“Don’t be like that, Floch can be annoying, I know, but there is a lot he can learn from you.”

God, just the thought of spending time with that idiot made her skin crawl.

“He’ll be a good boy, I promise,” Zeke added sweetly.

Hange sighed, getting up to her feet. “If he so much as opens his mouth at inappropriate time, I’ll punch him so hard he forgets his name.”

“That’s a deal,” Zeke nodded. “And Hange?” he called when she was almost at the door. “Do you think you can handle going to the police department?”

Hange narrowed her eyes. “If no one will notice us, then what’s the problem?”

“You sure?” he asked again, giving her a weird look. Hange stared back, not sure what the fuck was going on. Was it some kind of a test? If so, then what was its purpose?

“Of course,” she mumbled and left the room.

She wasn’t in a mood for Zeke’s mind games today. She had Floch to deal with, and he already was annoying enough to cause her a headache.

  ***

“I want to make something clear,” Hange fixed Floch with a hard look. “In this car, the driver always chooses the music. Blink if you understand.”

Floch glared back, but as he saw that this wasn’t working on Hange, he sighed and nodded. “I understand.”

“Great!” Hange smiled and clasped his shoulder so hard, Floch cringed. “Then let’s go! An exciting trip is ahead of us!” she started the car and turned on the music. The first notes of “Let it go” began to play and Floch groaned. Hange’s smile widened.

“Your music taste is as shit as ever,” the grumpy one in her head said. “At least it’s not me who is suffering this time.”

  ***

"You have to turn left," Floch fumed exasperatingly.

"Shut up,” Hange snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"The GPS says we have to turn left," Floch lifted his hand, trying to reach out to Hange and take the wheel under his control. She harshly slapped his hand away.

"The GPS is wrong then," Hange blew a stray hair away from her face. "My route is shorter."

"And how do you know that?" Floch demanded.

"I just do," she sighed, trying very hard not to focus on that question. She just did know that this route was shorter. Just like she knew that there was a food court nearby that sold delicious hotdogs. And that on weekdays, the traffic was terrible, especially in the afternoon. She just— she just knew. It was  S a mystery, same as her confusing dreams and weird voices inside her head.

One crossroad later, their car stopped in front of the precinct's parking lot.

"There," Hange announced proudly. "We arrived."

Floch frowned. "The ETA said we would be driving for another five minutes."

"The shorter route," Hange reminded him with a grin. "Now go!" she gave Floch a rough shove, pushing him out of the car.

"What the fuck?" he complained. "I was supposed to go with you!"

"And you will," Hange explained with a roll of her eyes. "But I need you to check if the parking lot is really empty. We can't be seen, remember?"

"Riight," Floch reluctantly agreed. "So I just have to go in there? Make sure that it’s deserted?"

"I take my words back, Floch," Hange looked at him impressively, pressing a hand to her chest. "You're not a complete idiot after all."

"Fuck you," he growled.

"Love you too!" Hange waved her hand, watching Floch get out of the car with a smile on her face.

As soon as he closed the door, Hange exhaled and looked up at the sky. The grey, heavy clouds were gathering up above. The streets became darker and the city around her looked ominous, as though signaling every citizen about the upcoming disaster. Hange instantly admonished herself, she was being ridiculous. The cloudy weather could mean only one thing - that it was going to rain. And a little rain hardly ever hurt anyone.

"Makes everything look so messy, though."

Hange hummed, drumming her fingers on a steering wheel. She was a mess. She wondered if the grumpy one would like her.

  ***

"The coast is clear," Floch announced once he was back inside the car.

"Any sign of our guy?" Hange asked, starting the car.

"Not yet," Floch shook his head.

"Someone is not a fan of punctuality," she tsked in mock disappointment. "Luckily, we're not in a hurry."

Hange drove the car inside the parking lot. Just as Floch had said, it was blessedly empty. She stopped near the center, so they would have a better vantage point. Then Hange turned off the engine and opened the door, walking out and stretching her limbs.

Now all they had to do was wait.

"Do you know what he looks like?" Floch stood next to Hange.

"I do. Zeke showed me a photo."

The man was probably working closely with them before. Hange felt like she knew him. But she wasn’t sure that sending her to meet with the man was a good idea. Sannes’s photo evoked a strong a sense of annoyance inside her. Hange wondered what kind of relationship they used to have before.

It wasn't long before she got her chance to find out. After several minutes of waiting, Sannes walked onto the parking lot. He wasn't alone, though. No, next to him was a short, dark-haired guy. There was... something about him. Even though, his back was facing her, Hange couldn't look away. Her breath quickened and she watched him, unblinkingly, waiting for the man to show his face.

And then he did.

He turned around, for just a second, but it was enough for Hange to catch a glimpse of his face. Her knees almost gave up under her, as a short gasp escaped her lips.

It was— it was Levi.

Hange's head began to spin as memories from her old life came rushing back to her. She staggered backwards, falling to her knees, as all of it nearly overwhelmed her. It felt like her skull was going to combust from all the information. She remembered now, remembered almost everything.

Her days at the academy, meeting Levi and Erwin and then befriending them both, her first case and hundreds that followed after it, the sleepless nights, spent in the precinct with Levi by her side, the morning coffees she shared with Erwin, the jokes she told to Moblit and his team during lunches, the bar where they went to drink at after work. She remembered Erwin’s smile and Levi’s scowl, remembered the soapy smell of his hair and the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. Remembered how tightly he pressed herself against his side whenever she had too much to drink at the bar. Remembered the concern that appeared inside his usually emotionless eyes whenever she got hurt or wounded. There was so much she was missing, there was so much that was taken from her.

Hange seethed as she thought of what Zeke had done to her and everyone she cared about. Before she succumbed to the anger completely, though, rough hands grabbed her shoulders, grounding her in reality. She looked up, blinking a few times.

Floch was crouched in front of her.

"What the fuck?" he looked at her with a mix of annoyance and panic. "Have you finally lost it?"

Having your life turn upside will do that to you, Hange mentally scoffed.

But now she needed to focus. She couldn’t let Floch know that her memories came back.

So she put her feelings to the back of her mind, shutting them off, and forced a smile. "No need to worry," she patted Floch’s shoulder and rose to her feet. "Just feeling a little bit dizzy. Shouldn’t have skipped the breakfast."

Floch narrowed his eyes in suspicion, watching Hange for another second. But then he rolled his eyes and stood up too. Good, he seemed to have bought her lie. "You're such a freak."

"I'm simply unique," Hange grinned. "Now, hurry up and get to work."

"Huh?"

"Our guy, Floch," she pointed behind herself. "He's leaving. Go and talk to him."

"Didn't Zeke tell you to do that?"

"He did, but things changed. See that shorty next to him?" the nickname rolled easily off her tongue. How could she forget her favorite clean freak, Hange wondered absentmindedly. She must have hit her head pretty badly. Levi always said she was too scatterbrained for her own good. "We need to distract him. I'll do that and you talk with our target. Alright?"

"Alright," Floch agreed.

As soon as Floch left, Hange sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about. For a second, she watched as Floch maneuvered between the cars in the shadows. Then she turned back to Levi. He was already finished with tearing Sannes a new one, and was now walking right in Hange’s direction. He was probably heading to his car, she tried to calm herself. She was well hidden in a shadow and she stood behind a car. He wouldn’t be able to see her. There was nothing to panic about. Still, Hange’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Levi could hear it too.

She wanted to go to him. Every part of her screamed with need to see Levi. To look at his scowling face, to hear his raspy voice. It took all of Hange’s willpower to tear her gaze away from him. She couldn’t do it, not right now. She was a mess, a clatter of old memories and dozen contrasting emotions. She needed to keep it together, to sort it all out.

Yes, that was what she was going to do. Fuck Floch and Sannes, she couldn’t deal with them right now. What she needed was to clear her head. With that in mind, Hange decided to get back inside the car. She looked back for a second, checking on Floch. He was already by Sannes’s side, leading him out of the parking lot. Then she glanced at Levi. He was standing on the other side of a parking lot, a distance away from Hange. He was next to his car, and Hange couldn’t keep a smile off her face, as she realized that he was wiping off a stain from his rear window. God, what a clean freak, she thought, feeling her chest fill with affection.

It wasn’t the time to stare or reminisce, though. She needed to move, to get out of here before her resolve crumbles. Hange took a step in the direction of her car. She did it slowly, not taking her eye off Levi even for a second. He was still fumbling with a stain, so she took another step. She was almost close enough to open the door. Hange lifted her leg and then—

And then her shoe squeaked.

Levi snapped his head around instantly, looking up in alarm. Hange put a hand over her mouth and sank to her knees. She froze in that position, watching Levi with wide, panicked eye.

“Who is there?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer. A car separated them, and Hange prayed that Levi wouldn’t check behind it.

He stood there for what felt like hours. Sweat began to drip down Hange’s forehead, as she tried to predict Levi’s next move. She heard him take another step and then put his hand on a hood of a car.

“Is anyone here?” Levi repeated his question.

Hange closed her eye, pressing hands tighter to her lips. If she so much as peeps right now, she was doomed.

Levi glanced between the cars and then sighed, turning around.

“I really need to sleep,” he muttered, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. He looked around the parking lot once again, and then started heading back to his car.

Hange waited for him to get inside, and only then allowed herself to relax.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, watching as Levi drove away. As soon as he left, Hange jumped up and hurried to her own car. She hopped in and started the engine, eager to leave this place behind as quickly as possible.

There was a lot she needed to think about.

  ***

Someone was looking after it.

There were fresh flowers – peonies, her favorite. All weeds had been taken out.

On a bright, white stone there was an epitaph engraved.

A brilliant mind. The kindest of hearts. A loyal, dear friend. Without your shining presence, the world had lost some of its light. Staring down at her own grave was... a weird experience. Hange wasn't yet sure how she felt about it.

Normal people would probably be weirded out by this. Some would start contemplating their own mortality and the impact they leave on the world. Most would be afraid to even look at it. Hange felt nothing but burning, seething rage.

Zeke would pay for this. No matter what it takes, be it her own life, but Hange would bring him to justice. She would do anything to ruin his life. Just as he had ruined hers.

She didn't know for how long she was standing there motionlessly, lost to her swirling thoughts. The rain had started - a cold, heavy downpour - but Hange paid no mind to it. She was so far gone she didn't even hear the approaching footsteps. Or a quiet, shocked gasp.

She felt a trembling hand on her elbow, though. She whirled around and saw those piercing blue eyes.

Tears started to well up in her own eye, as she stared up at him.

"Hange?" Erwin whispered softly, quietly as though he was afraid that his loud voice would shutter the feeble illusion. That Hange would disappear like smoke in the wind. "Is that really you?"

"I guess?" she chuckled. The tears were now freely streaming down her face.

"Hange, oh god," Erwin threw away his umbrella and quickly shortened the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her.

Hange buried her face into his jacket, sobbing loudly.

"I missed you, Erwin. T-there is so much I need to tell you."

"And I'll gladly listen to you," Hange could hear a smile in his voice, and she felt her own lips curve upwards too. "But as for now," Erwin leaned in and gently kissed the crown of her head. "Welcome back, Hange."

[huearmy]

Life is Beautiful - I

Summary: You are a glass half full person, your life motto is "Life is too short to... Insert something and anything here". During your whole life you wanted something more, and even not knowing what it is, you put yourself to find out and get it, experiencing everything  brilliant that the world offers - within the measure of what is safe, of course. The curious thing is that your way of living ended up rousing  the interest of two vampires. One who sees beauty in everything and  loves to exist, currently working with suicide prevention; and another one who no longer sees grace in things, in that boring immortality that never ends, and only complains about the Netflix catalog all the time.

Pairing: Jimin x reader / Taehyung x reader.

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut (very soft, ok?)...

Words:  7509.

Rating: +18

Warnings: As much as my writing is soft and light, and as these are not the main topic of the story, treated in a non-descriptive way, there are sensitive themes from the beginning of the first chapter to the end of the fic that can trigger sensitive people, like depression, suicide, addictions in general - Jimin literally works at a suicide prevention center here. SO PLEASE! Read responsibly, my intention when dealing with topics like this is always 1) dealing with them in myself, as a way of putting out part of my own healing process 2) generating identification in other people, so they can go through the difficult time a little less alone. THIS IS A STORY THAT SEES THE WORLD WITH POSITIVITY.

Chapter II Chapter III .

After some centuries of not living, all vampires go through a kind of midlife crisis in which everything loses its grace and eternity becomes endless boredom. Nothing new happens, humans are born, sometimes they are relevant to world history, they become vampire food or they die dull. Vampires do not need to sleep or use the bathroom, nor to feed more than once a month, so the days are long, and often lonely, which leads many of them to stand still without moving, looking at nothing until their thirst quits, forcing them to go after a pulsating neck. Many go through this phase as serial killers, with killing as their only source of pleasure, others prefer to hibernate in some dark place or tomb, because false death is more interesting than false life. Some never get past the phase.

Jimin is not like that. With almost a thousand years of existence he is totally in love with life. Every day when the sun rises and the sunlight forces him to stay indoors so as not to burst into flames, he spends his hours with a smile on his face, engaging in small banal hobbies, such as gardening or online courses at distance - after almost a decade of doing this, Jimin already has fifty-two certificates in different areas, and he is pretty pride of it. When night comes and he can go out and see the world it’s even more interesting, because humans ’nightlife isn’t as hectic as daytime, so those who live in those dark hours are different. There are those who do wrong things and commit crimes, those who have double lives or who keep secrets, there are people working to protect and save, like doctors and police, there are night guards and twenty-four hours convenience store attendants, groups of friends who spend the night partying until dawn, and those who feel lonely in their empty apartments unable to sleep... And this is the part that he likes the most: people.

He likes to meet random people in the empty metro, buy a drink for a girl who doesn't take her eyes off him and then dance with her, strike up a conversation with a homeless man under a marquee because he knows the guy must be lonely. Watching and learning about other lives keeps him alive, more than the blood he needs to drink.

He likes to get temporary jobs to have some human experience. He has worked in pizzerias, both in the kitchen - he was not very good, so he was put in the dishwasher - both in deliveries, and at a gas station, as a hotel receptionist... But now it looks like he found a job he wants to stay in, so much that it has been a year and he has not yet resigned. Perhaps Jimin has found his calling.

"It's okay... You are not alone, I'm here and I'll stay until you feel good again." He said with his sweet, angelical voice. "Can you get away from the sharp objects? Please?"

The voice on the other end of the line sounded like just a choked whisper, before the answer came, fast, heavy breathing filled the air.

"No... I can't..." The female sobbed.

"Can you tell me why?" Jimin's voice was calm. "I... my legs are numb... I can't... stand up." Her breathing was erratic and desperate.

"Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance to be sent to you?" He used his most reassuring voice possible.

"No!" She started to cry even harder. "I don't want no one... to see me... like this." Jimin bite the inside of his cheek, thinking, maybe she just wasn't able to get up  because of the anxiety attack, but she also didn't say she wasn't hurt.

Regardless of the case, he needed to make the girl trust him in order to help her.

"What is your name?" He smiled, hopping she would listen to it in his voice. "... Ana" She whispered. "Nice to meet you, Ana. Do you remember my name? I told you at the beginning of the call."

One moment of silence.

"Jimin." She said with little certainty.

"Exactly, good job. Hi, Ana." "Hi, Jimin." Despite the crying voice, she was no longer sobbing.

"Ana, can you recall the last thing you did that made you feel safe? Secure?" A sigh reached Jimin's ears. As he waited for an answer his hands moved over a sheet of paper, he was drawing a beautiful face of a girl with crayons, without paying much attention, but getting a beautiful result.

"No." She said at last.

"I know you can, Ana. No need to rush. Breath." She thought some more, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Almost a full minute passed, the two of them silent on the call. Jimin did not press for an answer.

"I was watching Friends... with my cat." "Your cat?" Jimin smiled more spontaneously now, noticing in her voice an oscillation of affection when saying the word cat. "Talk more about your cat."

"His name is Sushi, he's fat, full of himself, and loving. He likes children, food and sleeping. I recently bought him a cute collar, it looks like a pink bow tie." She almost laughed.

"Wow...He is a lucky cat." Suddenly she started to cry again, sobbing so hard that Jimin hardly understood what she was saying.

"He ran away and hasn't come back yet... He's never been away from home  so long... He's all I have, there's no one else... I don't want to live... alone." "Is it just you and Sushi?" Jimin spoke more forcefully for her to hear over the sobs.

"Yes." She choked. "I can't get up... It hurts so much. I'm so-sorry..."

"Ana, do you need an ambulance to be sent to you?" He tried again. Silence.

"Yes." "So I will stay with you until they come to help you. You are not alone."

Jimin was a vampire in love with live, eager to live each day as if it were the most precious gift, so working in the Center of Valuing Life and Preventing Suicide was perfect. He considers himself an expert in convincing anyone that life is beautiful when he has the opportunity to say everything he thinks about. And not letting people feel alone is one of his favorite hobbies.

After all, eternity can be quite lonely, he knows how it is.

________________________________________________________________

That call is over. Jimin was searching for missing cat posts on social media. In the silent office room it was just him and three other people working, each at their separated personal table. Perhaps due to the nature of the work, or due to the late hours of the night, nobody spoke loudly or made a lot of noise when doing things, even when talking to each other, everything is always very restrained, calm.

Jimin's eyes followed the clock hands on the wall above the door. It was almost one in the morning, actually, to be exact, twelve minutes to go, so in two minutes, you would punctually enter that door with your heavy backpack full of books, of someone who just left college on the other side of the city, and after stopping at a twenty-four hours fast food to get a well-deserved burger spent an hour on a subway trip. He could already hear your footsteps down the hall, the characteristic sound of the rubber on the soles of your boots and your bunch of keys stuck in the handle of your backpack tinkling. He heard you putting your stuff in your closet and hanging your coat on the rack in the next room, and a smile formed on Jimin's face. When the hand on the clock struck ten to one and you opened the door trying not to make any noise so as not to disturb anyone's call, Jimin pretended not to notice you entering, not taking his eyes off the computer screen full of images of cute cats. You straightened up and held firmly the pair of coffee cups in your hands till the knots turned white, looking straight at him - in fact, from the moment you walked through the door you were already expecting to see Jimin sitting at his table, as always, and since then you haven't looked away. Walking in light steps - that he could hear by the way - to him who had his back to you, you tried to control the butterflies in your stomach, happy he wasn't in a call right now.

"Jimin?" You called softly, close to his ear, but not that close. Yet. Jimin contained a smile and turned around as if you had taken him by surprise. "Hey, Y/N, didn't see you there". As usual, his direct look made your heart race and you gave a nervous laugh before getting along with his flirty tone. "I bought you coffee." You handed him one of the cups. "To take the night shift a little better."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

You are the other reason Jimin didn't quit this job yet. A few weeks ago, when he was working long enough to decide to leave and go for the next adventure, you started working at the night shift, and right away you caught Jimin's attention, even though at first you didn't talk with him that much - in fact you only talked to the women on the team, and avoided the men. More than once he found himself paying attention to your emergency calls, how you talk, being positive without being suffocating for those in pain ... how you love life. After a while you started doing the same thing, a little less easily, since you don't have a vampire audition, but it was enough for you to acquire a platonic crush on Jimin, which resulted in you opening up, and you two start talking here and there. Now almost whenever you have time or money left over - college life is poor life - you bring him coffee. Jimin doesn't actually drink coffee at all, and he doesn't feel sleepy either, but he thinks it's cute that you worry for him. You see each other three to four times a week, depending on the schedule of work, and he is always eager to see you. Flirting is exciting, and he hasn't done that in a while... Like two centuries, and how it was done back there was quite different. Other times indeed.

"Did you lose your cat?" You asked, confused.

"Oh, no, I didn't." He closed the page with the photo of a white and gray cat wearing a pink bow tie.. "One friend of mine lost her cat, Sushi." "Poor thing. I hope she finds Sushi soon..." You slightly pouted.

"Me too. I'll help her." Jimin said, and the butterflies in your stomach thought it was beautiful.

Something on his desk caught your attention, a colorful draw of said cat made with crayon. Before Jimin could stop you - he was distracted by hearing your heart beat faster because of him - you picked up the stack of papers to get a closer look.

"And you drew him! How beautiful... I didn't know you were so talented." "Thank you. My friend who taught me, he is much better than me..." Jimin simply answered.

You moved on to the next sheet, where another sketch of the cat in different colors made your eyes shine. "So he must be awesome. Look at this!" Jimin was happy to be praised by you, the pink of your cheeks when speaking was a beautiful sign for him, but then he remembered what was the next drawing in your hands, and before you could see it, he cleared his throat and took them back, keeping them in the drawer. It was a drawing of a girl's pretty face. Your face. "They are not quite ready yet..." He pretended modesty.

"Oh, sorry. If you need help, just tell me. I can hang up posters or something. About finding the lost cat, I mean." You volunteered, and then looked around. "I better get to work before someone scolds me."

You went to your desk, across his, and your eyes met a few more times before as you sat down and turned on your computer. Jimin's phone rang and he forced himself to look away from your face, someone else needed him now. "Good night, my name is Jimin and you called the Life Valuation Center. Can I help?" He spoke, his voice welcome and full of affection. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin's shift ends before yours, just before three in the morning he puts things away and leaves the table ready for the person who will use the next shift, but he won't leave, even if everyone thinks so. Instead he goes to the roof to look at the stars and wait for you to leave - not that you know he is waiting for you. He was listening to a random playlist on spotify, stretching his body to the beat just because it feels good, thinking about nothing specific, just existing and feeling good about it.

The night breeze brought his scent to him, looking down from the parapet, he could see you leaving the building, with your scarf well wrapped around your neck, covering half of your face to protect you from the cold air. He doesn't understand you... It's beautiful that you want to help people who are going through a difficult time, and you've commented before that the night shift matches your other schedules, and that you like to stay up at night. However, he thinks you should consider it's not worth it. It's so late and empty when you go home, it's dangerous for a human woman, and as much as he knows that you have a pocketknife in your pocket, Jimin thinks it's silly of you. Usually he wouldn't think much about it, but it's you, and he is fond of you, he can't just do nothing about it. So even if you don't know it, he accompanies you home every night to make sure you are safe. He is only satisfied and goes home when he hears you enter your room. Sometimes he stays a little longer, sitting on the emergency stairs outside your building, listening to you walking up and down in your room, doing whatever, instead of going to sleep soon.

That's kind of creepy. He knows. But he is a vampire, he is already creepy in essence. But of course he would never watch you sleep, for exemple, this is a stalker limit that he does not intend to cross.

"Okay." He sighed as he heard you getting into bed. "I have one hour and a half before the sun rises... Let's find that cat." __________________________________________

You were awake for a couple of hours already, currently packing your books at the end of a lecture, really needing sugar to feel prepared before the last class of the day, and excited that instead of going to the study group you are a part of, you will take an experimental dance class and it's your day off, which means that instead of staying up until dawn working, you can stay up until dawn studying, and maybe sleep a little earlier. Life is too short to not take all the free trial classes available just because your schedule is already full and totally demanding. Anyways you are dead tired, wishing your body doesn't need to sleep... Since you started to work on the Life Valuation Center all your sleeping schedule went down the drain. At first your plan was to work the night shift only at the beginning, and then change your hours, but for some reason you always liked to stay up all night, also the movement of calls in this period is bigger and more specific, which helps in your internship report, and of course, in the day shift there is no Jimin... You've settled in, and now after months of this crazy, fickle routine, your body is feeling the side effects.

"Three of this rainbow donuts please." You asked at the college cafe. One because you want, two because one is not enough, three because you are greedy. Life is too short not to overeat your current favorite sugar source. You sigh to yourself, taking a seat along your friends. Your mantra for life is life is too short to...insert anything here, experimenting and doing things that you never imagined before and that your mother probably wouldn't approve a hundred percent is what moves you. Basically nothing scares you, since childhood you were courageous and fearless. You subject yourself to almost anything, within the measures of what is safe, to have good stories to tell. The world is too big to be content with just having good grades to graduate and have a good job. What you want is much more... so much more that you don't even know what... But it’s not just because you don’t know yet that you’ll stand still without going after it to find out.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you gonna do on the weekend?" Your friend, Becca, asked comfortably within her girlfriend's embrace. As usual, whenever you see the two of them together being all lovey dovey, you feel a twinge of pride in your heart, because you were responsible for them to start dating in the first place. Although your romantic life is not very interesting, without serious or successful relationships, you are a great cupid.

"For the very first time in months... I don't know. I didn't plan anything, maybe something will show up, if not I'm just going to sleep. Why?" You smiled your happy smile of eating what you like.

"Pool party. You need to get a tan, you look like a vampire with that pale, tired face of yours."

You laughed because it's true, since you started changing the day for the night, your skin has acquired a not healthy tone that you are not used to. You've been missing the sun a little.

"First of all, I'm too cute to be a vampire. Second, yeah I'll think about it, I have a new bikini I haven't worn yet that makes my breasts look stunning." One of your friends that was sitting by your side put his arm over your shoulder. "I changed my mind, I'm going to this party." He loudly said. The girls in the group didn't laugh at all. "Shut up, Mike." You playfully pushed him. ________________________________________________________________

This was the second night that Jimin was looking for the cat, Sushi. It was not difficult to find out the address of it’s owner, since he had to activate an ambulance for her, and with that he started looking for the animal in her neighborhood. Passing through the empty streets at night after his work shift, he could see the girl's tracks leaving "missing" posters with a picture of a kitten wearing a pink bow tie, on lampposts and bus stops. At first Jimin thought it was going to be easy, with his keen vampire senses, but all he found were stray cats that weren't Sushi. The second night of searching was already ending, the sun was rising, threatening to make him explode into ashes if he didn't come home soon, and no clue as to where to look the next night he had.

Before getting into the car and driving home, Jimin took one last look at the slightly open curtains in the girl's room, Ana, just to make sure she was okay. She had been discharged from the hospital that afternoon and was now sleeping on the couch, probably medicated. Jimin didn't want to leave her alone, but he couldn't just walk into her apartment and offer help, for now all he could do was find a way to find the cat. ________________________________________________________________ Jimin lives in an old pretty house in the wealthiest part of the city, it isn't a mansion, but it is big and expensive enough to impress anyone who sees it, privileges of centuries of saved money. It's a cliché, but vampires dress in designer clothes, ride luxury cars and live in expensive mansions, houses, apartments, and Jimin is no exception.

From one of the main rooms, behind a heavy curtain, hidden in the gloom, was another vampire, watching the street with intent, expressionless eyes. When Jimin's car turned the corner and up the wide street lined with huge trees, the vampire got uneasy, his beautiful restless hands worrying the hem of his sleeves. He was anxious and angry, if his heart was still beating it would be racing. The garage door opened and the car entered, disappearing from view, in the next second the vampire was no longer in the room but in front of the door leading to the garage, waiting in the empty, dark hall. The knob turned the door slightly opened, Jimin with his head down did not seem to notice the presence of the other before being attacked.

"AH!" Jimin screamed as long arms embraced his neck. If it wasn't for the wall behind him he would have fallen, yet he had no escape, with a body much larger than his overpowering him. "Taehyungie!"

"You are late! Is the second day in a row you get home after sunrise! Are you trying to die?" Taehyung said, and didn't let Jimin go just yet. "It's okay. I was careful, I just had to do a few things before I came home. Look, there's not even smoke coming out of me." Jimin ran his hands over Tae's back, making him relax. The other stepped back a little, taking his face in his big hands.

"You could have sent a message. I asked you to let me know if you were going to be late again, Jiminie..." Tae pouted, still distressed. "And why do your clothes smell like garbage? Take it off."

Even feeling deprived of affection, Taehyung walked away looking disgusted, covering his nose with two fingers. Jimin obeyed, taking off his sneakers, jacket and jeans, following Taehyung through the corridor to the laundry room, where he put everything in a basket to wash later, and also exchanged the shirt for a clean one too. "I went into some alleys today, looking for a cat. That's why." Jimin explained, feeling much more comfortable in not smelling bad.

"And where's it? I don't think Tannie will like to share the house with a cat..." "Where is what?" Jimin was confused. Tae crossed his arms.

"The cat?"

"Oh no!" Jimin laughed, reaching for Tae to take him by the shoulders. "I wasn't looking for a cat to bring home, as much as I would love one as a pet... It's the cat of a girl I met, and is very sad to have lost it..."

"I got it..." Taehyung mumbled.

Jimin was just helping someone. Again. And Taehyung couldn't say exactly why it bothers him so much every time, but it does, he feels distressed, almost as if the world around him collapsed, and it makes him think he's being overdramatic. Live an eternity when you can't even put your feelings out in moments of frustration. Damn, it is conflicting... If vampires could cry, he would. But never that he would let Jimin discover that he feels that way.

It was Jimin's turn to take Tae's face in his little hands.

"You are so skinny. When was the last time you fed?" Taehyung didn't answer.

"You don't even remember, right?" Jimin's eyes went worried. "Did you see that I brought some O- packs for you? I left it in the fridge."

"No, I didn't." A shy smile spread across Tae's face. O- is his favorite blood type, but because it is a not so common type, and humans need transplantation, it's not always that Jimin brings it to him, usually opting for his second favorite flavor or other one available.

Jimin has been trying to cheer his friend up with little treats. It has been a difficult phase, in which he thinks Tae is going through the vampiric midlife crisis. He hasn't been out of the house for almost two decades and does nothing without a little external motivation, even the simplest things like eating. So Jimin tries to bring the best blood types to fill the fridge, signed all available streaming platforms, updates Taehyung's video game consoles as soon as a new model comes out, tries to get him interested in new hobbies - which never works but he doesn't give up - and he even adopted a puppy so that Tae would never be alone.

"Come." Jimin pulled him by the hand to their modern practically untouched kitchen, opened the fridge and picked two packs of blood, the dark liquid shining at the cold light. “In my room or yours?"

"Yours."

The two of them got to Jimin's room, followed by the sound of four paws scraping the polished wooden floor, Yeontan chasing them closely. Jimin pulled the covers off the clean bed, on which he rarely lies down, so they could get more comfortable. Tae laid on his back, against the pile of smooth pillows, carefully opening a packet of blood to not spill a single drop, and put a stainless steel straw in the opening. Jimin turned on the TV, put the dog in the bed, and cuddled Tae's side, with his head on his chest.

"What show have you been watching?" Jimin asked.

"None. I've been looking for something interesting in this shit for days and I can't find anything." Tae took a sip of his blood with a pout.

Jimin chuckled. "I'm choosing then."

A moment of silence followed, in which the only sound was of Tae drinking the rest of his first pack, and then opening another one.

"I think I need to shower..." Jimin commented.

Taehyung's arm that was around Jimin tightened. "Not now. Later." Jimin laughed, thinking it was cute. An idea crossed his mind, another small treat.

"Do you want to bath with me instead?" He looked up to Tae.

Tae hold tightened even more.

"Not now. Later. Now we cuddle."

As if agreeing, Yeontan climbed over the two vampires, finding a comfortable place to lie down and join the cuddle pile.

"Ok."

________________________________________________________________

Tonight you didn't have time to talk to Jimin when you arrived at work, he was on a call, and it seemed really serious. You didn't have the money to buy extra coffee even for yourself, so you hadn't an excuse to pass quietly by his desk to leave a post-it written "Hi :)". In those circumstances, you went straight to your desk to work, to do your best to be a good listener.

To your surprise, making your heart melt and your breath hold at the bottom of the throat, you saw at the top of your computer screen a post-it with a "Hi, sweetheart." written on it, and another one with a "Look in the fridge.". After working with him for that time, regularly doing some paperwork like filling out documentation and such things, you could say for sure that this was Jimin's handwriting, besides, only he calls you sweetheart.

You checked the clock on the wall with an eager look and a silly smile. As you always arrive ten minutes early, there was time to go to the break room quickly, and look inside the fridge before starting to work. And so you did. The break room was nothing more than a small table with a few chairs, a small couch, a sink, an old coffee machine, a microwave and the refrigerator, all in a tight space lit by white lights that leave the place a little impersonal. None of your co-workers were there, as usual. You crossed the small room to the fridge and opened it trying not to make a noise, more out of habit than necessity.

The interior was very empty, with some forgotten lunchboxes, but that didn't interest you. Your goal was right in the middle. A big cup of iced coffee, from a franchise that you don't usually buy from because you find it a little too expensive for your student budget, with your name written on a post-it on top of it.

"Y/N, I wanted to be me treating you today. Hope you like it."

That coffee was as cold as Jimin's fingertips when touching yours, but it warmed your heart. Sometimes you question yourself if it's healthy how head over heels you are for this guy, for so little.

Back at your desk, now with your iced coffee, you wrote a post-it and pasted it on the back of your computer screen, where Jimin could see it. "Thanks :)" Then you started to work. Other people needed you now. ________________________________________________________________ On your fifteen minutes break time, you were leaving the restroom, passing a moisturizing hand cream - because you swear that the soap in this place dries out your skin, and god forbid you from harsh hands -, the sound of the break room's door opening made you lift your eyes from the floor. It was Jimin. He don't take breaks, it's not like he needs it, he doesn't get tired, but he didn't get the chance to talk to you today yet, so as soon he saw you stretching in your chair, indicating that you would soon get up to go to the bathroom - yes, he learned your routine and mannerisms - he discreetly left the room to meet you by coincidence in the hall afterwards.

"Hi, Y/N. Did you like the coffee?" He charmly smiled at you, he was eager to ask it to you, to find out if he made the right choice of flavor, or if he made a bad mistake and you hated it - he couldn't help thinking about that possibility. Anyway, he was looking forward to your approval.

The truth is that you were so stunned by his caring that it didn't matter what the flavor was.

"Actually, yes. I love vanilla flavored things. It's basic but it makes me happy." You fixed your hair, pulling it behind your ears. Jimin could tell by your smile and your heated face that you aren't lying.

"Nice. I wanted to make you happy." He approached you, more than is suitable for the work environment, and it made you nervous, and of course he noticed. But it was okay, if someone came close he would hear and walk away before they could see you, too bad he couldn't tell you that.

"Mission completed successfully." You said, without looking away from his eyes - no matter how much part of you shouted at you to do it, your heart felt like it was going to explode. Well, your heart has a limit, so you changed the subject. "Did your friend find her cat?" Sadness took over Jimin's eyes.

"Unfortunately not. I've been looking for him for two days and nothing, I swear I think I've looked in every street, alley and trash can. I don't want to think like that, but I think Sushi is no longer with us." He sighed, clearly frustrated. You had the impulse to rub his forearms to comfort him, it was the very first time you really touched him. "If he is a cat that wasn't accustomed to getting out, and didn't know how to walk on the street, it is possible that something bad happened... But! He's a cat, if he used to go out often, he might have some other house, other owners, and that's why he hasn't come back yet." You optimistically said.

A smile spread in Jimin's face.

"That makes sense! She told me something like 'He's never been away from home for so long', there's hope then. And you also gave me an idea. Thank you, Y/N." He pulled you into a hug, and you thought you could die.

"You welcome." You said against his chest, deciding not to waste the opportunity to return the hug. ________________________________________________________________ The day was perfect for a vampire walk in the daytime. Cloudy and rainy. No deadly sunbeams and an excuse to use an umbrella without calling attention to it. After the tip you gave, Jimin looked in the right place after accompanying you home that night, and in less than an hour he was outside the window of two children's rooms, in a ground floor apartment, looking inside, and sleeping between the feet of one of the children was the cat, he wasn't with his bow tie but there was no mistake, Jimin was sure. Even without being able to enter - vampiric rules, you only can get in somebody's house if invited, or else you explode as if you were under sunlight - Jimin could smell cat all over the house, and the windows all had anti-escape screens, which indicated that it was a family of cat people.

Jimin would need to come back to pick the cat during the day, knock on the front door and politely ask. That's why heavy weather is perfect. With a dark couture coat, covering all from his neck to the back of his hands, to his knees, a design hat and sunglasses, and last but nos least, a big umbrella, he approached the lower middle class apartment complex. Without hesitation he raised his hand and knocked. Some seconds passed by, sound of kids running inside and a voice of a famale scolding them muffled by the closed door, and then a little girl, maybe six-year-old, appeared in Jimin's field of vision, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen after all.

"Hello." Jimin smiled. "Are your parents home?"

She smiled at him, but shook her head negatively.

"Jo, who is it?" An older girl opened the door wider and faced Jimin with a frown that fell apart when she saw his smile. Great, a teenager, he thought. "What do you want?"

"Sorry to bother, I really wanted to talk to an adult, but..." Jimin lifted his phone, the screen showing Sushi's missed post. "I saw my friend's cat on your window."

The older girl narrowed her eyes as she looked at the photo, but before she could answer, the little girl she called Jo before ran away.

"No!" She screamed, disappearing inside the apartment, and then slamming a door somewhere.

"Sorry for that, please wait a minute." The teenager closed the door on his face, and he could hear her shouting and scolding the girl little inside. He was starting to lose his patience. Jimin doesn't like to be ignored at all. Should he knock again and use his mind control powers to get the cat? He was pondering the idea when the door opened again, the two girls were still loudly arguing inside, and this time it was a small boy who must be the middle sibling in front of him.

"Hi, grandma said to tell you to come in." He mumbled.

"So you are letting me get in your house?" Jimin asked with a satisfied grin.

"Yeah... follow me." The boy was avoiding eye contact, being shy. Jimin thought he was adorable.

Jimin followed the boy to a tiny living room, where an old woman was sitting in front of the TV. The girls were now silent, but clearly wanting to argue some more, and the small one was with Sushi in her arms. Jimin sighed, he likes children, a lot, even though he doesn't live with many, but he likes them even more when they're not having a tantrum.

"Hello. Please, take a seat." The old lady pointed to the old couch. The vampire obliged, and almost immediately a fat orange cat jumped into his lap. In this small room alone he could see three more of them. "So, why do you want to steal one of my babies?" Steal? Jimin was slightly offended, he already explained himself, but the chaotic situation created a misunderstanding. "I'm not here to steal nothing, ma'am." He showed his cellphone again. "One of your cats is Sushi, my friend's cat."

"That's not his name!" The little girl shouted tapping a foot on the floor in anger. Jimin just raised his eyebrows at her, making her swallow hard. But he is in control of the situation, so Jimin smiled to remain pleasant.

"Of course it is. Just watch, little one." He reached out to call the cat. "Come here, Sushi." Even though the cat didn't know Jimin to trust him - and these people don't need to know that - cats are creatures of the night, strongly attached to magic and protection in the dark hours, and in the hierarchy of the night they obeyed vampires. The only things that cats respect more than vampires are witches and their own owners whom they protect. As Jimin expected, Sushi jumped off the girl's tight hold and went over to him.

"Good boy. Ana is missing you like hell." Jimin scratched behind his ears. Before someone else could say anything, he proceeded. "When he got lost he was using a pink bow tie." The old lady was still with Jimin cellphone in her hand, and he could see she was convinced he know the cat, but wasn't intending on letting him leave with him yet.

"I'm seeing it in the post, but there was no tie when we got him." She replied. "You just didn't see it, ma'am." Jimin was tired of this conversation, it was being a lot less nice than he imagined on his way there. When he looked to the little girl to talk to her, his eyes were intense and powerful, and his voice was full of authority. "Go get the tie where you hid it, little one."

Mesmerized by Jimin's power, the girl didn't even blink or say anything as she obeyed, turned around and ran to one of the rooms. Jimin doesn't use hypnosis very often but he has fun every time. She got back with it and handed it to him.

"Thanks." He removed the effect and the little girl blinked a few times before understanding what happened.

The old lady was clearly angry with the girl, but it wasn't Jimin's business. "Well I think that's all. We are going now." Jimin got up from the couch.

"Wait!" The teenager snapped. "Jo lied about the bow to keep the cat, and that's bad, but she already loves him! You can't just take him away!"

Jimin was almost on the door.

"Of course I can. Besides, it's not because what she did is bad, young lady. It's because my friend loves him, actually this cat is Ana's family. No one should live alone, right?"

"Right!" The old lady got up too. "I'll get you to the door, tell our friend we are sorry."

"I will. Thank you." ________________________________________________________________

"You found the cat!" Tae sniffed the back of Jimin's neck. "Where is it?"

Jimin was putting the clothes he was using to wash, to remove the smell of cat and the places he passed by. And to get comfortable, as is his habit when he gets home, he just stayed in his underwear and t-shirt.

"I already gave him back to his owner." In the next second Jimin was dropping himself on the leather couch.

"And how was it? Did she thank you with tears in her eyes?" Tae leaned over the back of the sofa with his chin in his hands.

Jimin chuckled, Taehyung's thirst for drama is funny, and he's always been like that. And at least that doesn't seem to have changed...

"Well... She cried a lot when she found him in the window. She looked really happy!" Jimin sang. He was really happy too. He helped someone to find their smile again, even if it is a little bit, it made him really proud of himself, a warm feeling in his chest telling him it was the right thing to do, and that he should do it again if he gets the opportunity. Taehyung's expression changed, suddenly he was disinterested.

"You didn't even talk to her? Just left the cat there for her to find?"

"Well, yeah." Jimin threw his hair back. "I couldn't risk she recognizing my voice and thinking I was stalking her. Scaring her was not the goal, Tae, quite the contrary..."

Taehyung stared at him in silence for what felt a whole minute - maybe it really was, vampires perceive time differently. "You are not a secret superhero, Jimin. You are a vampire." Said that he got back to his room.

Jimin doesn't understand. These outbursts and mood swings leave him confused. And it's not like he hasn't already tried to talk. This... This he doesn't recognize in Taehyung. It hurt his feelings and at same time he feels it is partially his faut. "I can be both if I want to!" He exclaimed.

No answer. To find somebody who would be happy for him and understand the euphoria he felt for saving a little bit that girl he went through his contact list. A lot of vampire names - a lot is maybe an exaggeration, since he doesn't have many friends at all - who wouldn't be rude, but wouldn't understand, and also some former human colleagues from past jobs with whom he hasn't spoken in a long time and maybe should erase the number... And you. Of course you are the obvious choice. You had sympathy for the case from the beginning, even offered to help. And if it weren't for you he wouldn't have succeeded...

Jimin: hey sweetheart Jimin: I found sushi! Jimin: thanks to you btw He sent the messages, hoping it wouldn't be strange. It wasn't the first time you two texted before, but it was just an exchange of memes and silly flirt... without compromise talk. And what he wanted this time was different. You took too long to answer, and he wondered if you were in class and if he was bothering you. He wanted everything but to mess it up with you right now. Maybe he should've checked your class schedule for the week to make sure he texted you when he was sure you were free. But he was so eager to talk to someone... with you. He gave up waiting and went after doing something productive. Crochet dolls. He was doing a mini Taehyung, with red eyes and little cute fangs - an apology for later, neither of them like fighting with each other, even if you can't call that earlier thing a fight- when his cell phone started to crazily vibrate and beep.

You: OMG! You: thts amazing! You: sorry i didn't aswr before You: I was taking a nap hehe You: anyways You: i'm so happy u found him You: [image.jpg] You: ur friend must be even happier :) You: what do u mean thanx to me? You: sorry i spammed u :( Jimin can't handle you. You are too cute. You literally sent him a photo of you with an enormous smile, cheering, to show him your reaction. And you were with your hair all messed and the puffy face of someone who just woke up. Precious. Jimin: no problem, sweetheart Jimin: you said to look in other owners' houses. basically. I found him with a old cat lady with three grandchildren   Jimin: you are looking cute btw You: OwO You: i'm looking like shit Jimin You: BUT thats awesome You: if it was me id be crying til my eyes fall You weren't even there with him, in person, and you were putting a smile on his face. How dare you say you look like shit when you have those perfect cute cheeks? So alive...

Jimin: EXACTLY. that's why I wanted to find him so much. Jimin: and because you helped me, I want to reward you Jimin: i know you don't work today. me neither. do you want to go out for coffee in a nice place? You took too long to answer again, and that's because your heart is exploding and knees trembling while you stare at your cell phone screen, standing midway in your kitchen. You: u dont need to. i did nothing. This time Jimin took too long to answer. He was making a decision. To be more straightforward. More honest. Until now he was dictating a slow pace for your flirting, because for him romance is like that. But what if he tries to speed things up a bit? Or if he lets you command? How would things be?

Jimin: Y/N, respect my excuse to ask you out.

He knew what your answer would be. Even so, he felt anxious, hearing a non-existent heartbeat in his ear, while the three dots indicated that you were typing.

You: ok. what time do you come to pick me?

Tag List:  @angrygardenerr @depressed-dude20 @milktaetae95 @tangledsparkles  @wlalsrkfla @minikolima​  @wrecklesseuphoria

If you want me to add you to the list let me know, and please let comments :)

[sweetestlamb]

Teenage Dream Pt. 2

Summary: Mun-Yeong learns that Gang-Tae has an admirer, she handles it very well. 

Notes: So, I really had fun playing with blushingshy! GT and aggressivepossessive! MY, I thought the high school au would be the perfect place to have some fun with their roles, I love domGT to bits but domMY does something special to me. I tried to incorporate things you guys said in the comments for part 1, so if you see your idea in the story thank you for the suggestion! This has smut but I am also enjoying the slow burn of their teenage years, so no full sex yet. Blame GT he wouldn’t stop blushing long enough to get ridden. All in due time. Anyway, here’s part 2 enjoy lovelies! 

 In all actuality, she hadn't expected him to approach her that night. Had felt his eyes on her several times at school, Seung-Jae jokingly labelled him her "not so secret admirer" but she wasn't sure if he actually liked her. She was aware that people considered her popular, a byproduct of wealthy parents with celebrity status, therefore people thought they should like her. The same way you liked a useful tool, she wasn't naive enough to believe that her classmates liked her genuinely. Most of them didn't even know what her stories were about, couldn't see past the grotesque imagery and hidden messages. In reality she knew they found her strange, pretty but too different to truly understand  but they played their parts well, fake smiles plastered on. 

So, she only had Seung-Jae  and that was fine by her, one great friend was infinitely better than a thousand faux friends, who only viewed her as a means to an end. But then he approached her and he was just precious, for goodness sakes he had complimented her school uniform of all things, even his constant stuttering and nervousness had been cute. None of her short stories were about damsels who needed saving, writers honestly needed to get past that ancient trope, yet she found herself playing that role with him. He would show up whenever she needed him, slaying all the dragons that stood in her way and asking nothing in return. It made it easy to give him everything, she'd never met anyone quite like Moon Gang-Tae. She hadn't planned on getting a boyfriend, too focused on school and her goals of being a writer, but he had stumbled into her life and she didn't know how to pass up beautiful things. Being with him was effortless in a way she'd never experience with another person, he listened to her and made her feel like she was important and enough as simply Ko Mun-Yeong, not the daughter of Ko Dae-Hwan and Do Hee-Jae . He had once told her as she cried quietly in soft of his collar, "You belong to you." Oblivious to the fact that he possessed a piece of her too, a piece she'd given willingly, no take backs. She was happy and it terrified her. Which, explained why the universe decided to tip her boat of happiness. She stood waiting for him, in the same spot they had been meeting for weeks now, their spot, not to be confused with their other spot outside where he often waited with her for Sang-In, who she had  recently informed commanded to take a scenic route from now on when picking her up, cherishing every second extra she spent with Gang-Tae. It was his first day back since his untimely suspension, she had visited him everyday under the ruse of bringing him school notes, his mother would smile as she greeted her at the door. Unsuspecting that as soon as they were alone, studying was the last thing on their minds. It was beneficial for science class though, she was learning key information about the male anatomy. Excitement bubbled up as she waited for his arrival, fixing her hair and then immediately moving it back to its original position. Agitated at her nerves, it was unsettling to say the least, no one had this affect on her. His smile was brilliant, when he spotted her, his eyes scoping her out like he had a radar system solely for tracking her, he easily walked away from his friend leaving him mid sentence, closing the space between them with a few wide steps, courtesy of those long legs. Suddenly, it wasn't fast enough, she needed to be in his arms, sooner, now and she propelled forward, rushing to meet him halfway. They bounded to each other like long last lovers who were finally reunited, torn apart by the cruelties of an unfair life. She watched him drop a bag carelessly on the ground as he reached her and grabbed her by her waist, immediately she reciprocated his hold, throwing her arms around his neck. With ease, he lifted her up off her tiptoes, her feet left dangling inches off the ground as he effortlessly supported her body weight. She let out a soft gasp, always shocked by his unassuming displays of strength. She snuggled her face into his neck, it was flame red and and she yearned to kiss it. After a short consideration, she pressed a light kiss into his neck, his soft gasp music to her ears. Tightening his hold, he swayed them side to side, inhaling the scent of her intoxicating shampoo. Unbeknownst to them, Jae-Su looked on in disgust and horror, he hadn't even gotten a chance to finish his story before Gang-Tae had taken off, he rolled his eyes watching their dramatic reunion. They hadn't seen each other for two days; Saturday and Sunday, yet they were acting as if Gang-Tae had just returned from military service. He'd known Gang-Tae for a much more substantial number of years, and he was never greeted in such a fashion. He stomped past them grumbling under his breath, "You never hug me like that, I have to beg for any affection." Unfortunately, Gang-Tae's ears were occupied listening to Mun-Yeong's soft breaths and his complaints were left unheard. Mun-Yeong was the first to disturb the hug, drawing back until they were face to face, but still locked in their tender hold. She couldn't help the exuberant smile that spread across her face, "I'm so happy you're back. I missed you." She watched with amused eyes as his signature blush colored his face, his adorable grin tempted her to kiss him right then and there. It was only his next words that halted her, "I got you something." He finally broke their hold, she suppressed her sigh, and he picked up the bag he had discarded prior to their hug. She clapped her hands in excitement, she adored surprises. He reached into the bag smiling at her adorable response and handed her a plastic cup filled with milky brown liquid, her eyes lit up in recognition. "It's coffee milk. I went to the coffee shop you like, that's why I'm late, I'm sorry didn't mean to keep you waiting." His glossy brown eyes stared at her, apologetic and pleading. She giggled before finally giving into her previous urge, yanking his checkered collar, bringing his face close enough to kiss. His eye was huge but he didn't resist, allowing her to draw him in. She curled her free hand around his thick neck, leaning up to capture his slack mouth. He tasted like cereal, sweet and succulent and she chased the taste with her tongue, licking into his moist mouth before he returned the favor. His tongue insistent in her mouth, gasping when she pulled his bottom lip hungrily. She let out a surprised puff of air, as he walked forward forcing her to retreat until her back met the hard wall. He placed a broad hand on her back, dragging her deeper into the kiss as the other cradled her head. Time slowed down as they kissed, wet sounds filling the air. Their mouths broke apart only to come back together, time and time again. A loud cough sounded off to her right, she willfully ignored it, lost in the flavors of her boyfriend. But the cough continued followed by an obnoxious clearing of the throat, she pulled away to shout at whoever was interrupting them only to meet the eyes of her best friend. "You do realize that you're in public right and that you're giving everyone a free show?" Seung-Jae asked eyes never looking up from her phone, her fingers flying across the touch screen, most likely on Tumblr again. As she took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes scanned the hallway and yes, all eyes were on them. Thankfully no teachers but their classmates were looking on with gaping mouths. Some even had their phones out, she glowered at them until they hurriedly hid them shamed-face, before snapping back to Gang-Tae. He was painfully shy, she knew his face would be alight and she was right. He glowed scarlet red above, satisfaction settled in her belly, poor baby. Looking down at her watch with a despondent sigh, she brought the gifted drink to her lips, still tingling from the passionate kiss. His eyes followed the motion, lingering on her mouth. "Thank you for the coffee milk. You were even more delicious though." She teased, hearing him groan in embarrassment. "Come on girl, we need to get to class. " Seung-Jae impatiently interrupted again, tapping her feet now, code for hurry the fuck up. "Alright I'm coming." She picked up her fallen book bag, swinging it over her shoulder, before Gang-Tae's arm shot out grasping the bag in his large hand. "I can carry it." He said in the softest voice, sounding like he was being given a gift, she'd forgotten how he seemingly couldn't stand to see her carry anything. Just adorable. "No. No, lover boy. You go to your class, we don't have time for another long goodbye. She can carry a book bag." Gang-Tae's eyes shifted to hers pleadingly and she almost lost her resolve, but she knew her friend was right, if he carried her bag she would notice his arms and how muscular they were and that would lead to her wanting to kiss him again and this ferocious cycle would repeat. With an apologetic hand on his smooth cheek, she shook her head, "She's right, you shouldn't be late on your first day back. I'll see you later." He nodded, subconsciously swaying into her hand before she pulled it away. Suddenly she was violently yanked away by her book bag, Seung-Jae's patience all but worn out. She longingly looked back at Gang-Tae, blowing him a kiss. If she hadn't spun around to threaten her best friend for being so aggressive, Do you have a death wish? She would have seen him catch the kiss, delicately putting it in his pocket.

She'd always judged girls around school who couldn't stand to be away from their boyfriends, rolling skeptical eyes at their dependency, she was already whole no other half needed, thank you. So when she found herself thinking of Gang-Tae, unable to focus on the teacher's voice, affronted annoyance seared in her blood. What was he doing to her? Mentally berating herself for her weakness, she rose her hand, catching the teacher's attention. "May I use the bathroom?" She requested, already knowing the response would be yes, this was one of her best classes and missing a few insignificant minutes wouldn't alter her high standing. She grabbed the pass at the teacher's nod, avoiding Seung-Jae's suspicious glance. She didn't need her negativity, weren't best friends supposed to be supportive? Hers was clearly defective. She told herself she would use the bathroom after checking on Gang-Tae, see how his first day back was going, merely good girlfriend duties. Peering into his classroom she easily located her handsome boyfriend, a chiseled chin laid on his hand, gazing out the window as if lost in a daydream. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes eagerly devoured him, the hours they'd spent apart ached, she longed to be back in his arms kissing him senseless turning him into a blushing mess. She was so wrapped up in his beauty, she almost missed another set of longing eyes. Nam Ju-Ri, she didn't know her well, had declined her hand in friendship after seeing how quickly she could go from “nice” to malicious. She'd always preferred the wolf rather than a wolf in sheep's clothing. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the oblivious girl gaze at her boyfriend, the flames of jealousy searing in her blood. Who was she to look at him? Wasn't it clear that he was off limits? Her taste was probably still in his mouth from this morning, she'd happily recreate the moment to remind the two faced bitch to back off. Finally, after a few minutes she stalked off to the bathroom, a bad taste lingering on her tongue.

They were working together on a group project. Her smile had fallen as he explained to her that he would need to leave early to meet Ju-Ri and Jae-Su at the Subway's to begin working on their group project. She planned on asking him to stay at school with her, she needed to work on her new short story for the school paper. It was the perfect excuse to get some much needed alone time with him, this new information threw a proverbial wrench in her plans. Only his sweet sad eyes stopped her from throwing a tantrum. He didn't look happy at the prospect of being away from her either. Using the situation as motivation, she penned a tale about a slow-witted girl who learned the dangers of touching that which wasn't yours, the grass wasn't always greener on the other side, sometimes it was best to appreciate what you had, least you lose everything. Or at least, a few fingers in the process.  She never claimed to be subtle. After adding the finishing touches, her story was complete. Not her best work but adequate, a true Ko Mun-Yeong classic, dark but revealing. Are you still at Subways? As she collects her belongings, she awaits his reply to her message, humming and setting a new course of action as she exits the school, the sun warm on her skin, restoring her energy. Yes, we're still here.

They are the scene of academic innocence with textbooks sprawled across the dining table, and notes and writing utensils precariously dangling. Gang-Tae is seated next to Jae-Su, Ju-Ri directly across, currently leaning over to point something out to his watchful eye. He rubs his jaw, nodding in agreement before jotting down notes on a stray piece of paper. With a firm hand she pushes the door open, a melodic chime announcing her arrival, all eyes glance to see who has entered including the only eyes that matter to her. He instantly stands up, wide smile on his face as he waves her over, missing the grimace that covers Ju-Ri's face. As soon as she's close enough to touch, he does. Drawing her into a warm hug, that she happily returns, breathing in his fresh scent. "I didn't know you were coming. Are you hungry?" He motions to the cash register, she shakes her head in decline, nodding at Jae-Su and Jae-Su, alone. Ju-Ri makes a point of checking her phone and looking as occupied as possible, she's happy to act like they’re strangers. In most ways, that's exactly what they are. "Do you want to sit?" There are no additional seats she notes, the establishment packed as it usually is after school's dismissal. "No, you sit." He looks at her in apparent confusion, about to argue before she forces him back into the seat, before taking her seat. 

In his lap. His gasp breezes against her ear as she faces Ju-Ri, placid smile on her face at the girl's evident irritation, she makes herself comfortable turning to look at Gang-Tae, who shyly meets her eyes, his hands cautiously holding her hips for support. "Hey, you." She whispers only loud enough for him to hear, his coffee-brown eyes soften in response, "Hi, I missed you." Her lips find his in a sweet kiss, as he brushes her hair behind her hair. A quiet moan escapes her lips at the gentle touch, his eyes are dark when she draws away. A million miles away. She would never tire of her affect on him and how unashamed he was about showing her. "Alright that's enough from you two." Jae-Su's exasperated voice interrupts, she squashes the urge to glare at him, Gang-Tae had asked her to be nicer to him claiming he was terrified of her. She really didn't see the issue with that but she was trying for Gang-Tae's sake. He soothed out her rougher edges. Gang-Tae struggles to focus with her in his lap, absentmindedly stroking her hair instead of answering a question that was posed to him. When he brought his sandwich to his mouth, she leaned over taking a bite too, accidentally biting his finger, soft apology on her lip. She slowly licked mayo residue from the corner of her lip, his eyes raptly watching its journey as she swallowed, "Mmmm it tastes good." He briskly repositions her in his lap, shifting her into his leg, away from her place in the center. Ju-Ri finally speaks after the display through clenched teeth, "I need to go, my mom is expecting me." Gang-Tae and Jae-Su bade her goodbye and safe travels, Mun-Yeong merely looks at her while stroking her finger possessively across Gang-Tae's massive shoulders, mouthing one word, mine. He looked scrumptious in his basketball uniform, arms tensing and flexing as he dribbled the ball up and down the court. She'd happily agreed to stay for his practice today, unwilling to pass out the chance the see a slightly damp Gang-Tae. She hasn't yet spoken to him about his...admirer. It felt ridiculous to waste their time together talking about anything other than them, when they weren't devouring each other. So she didn't expect to run into the very person who was infiltrating her thoughts. The two faced bitch, alone, walking down the stairs text books in her arm. Impulsively she calls out, "You know he's mine right? Stay away from my boyfriend." The girl's head snaps up in shock, before her face settles into vexation. Good at least she's being real. She would loathe to see the fake calm smile Ju-Ri typically sends her way. "He's not your property. You don't own him." With a tight smirk she stalks over, climbing the stairs until they're level, still knowing she'll always be above her in every way imaginable. "That's where you're wrong, he is mine. My boyfriend, so why don't you get someone who actually wants you and stop drooling over what you can't have? You act so nice but you're just a two-faced bitch." She bites out the last word, stepping into Ju-Ri's face, blood singing at the opportunity to put her in her place. The sting of the harsh slap against her cheek, whiplashes her head to the side, momentarily she's impressed, surprised that the girl actually had the gall to strike her, whatever I do now is technically self defense now, she thinks. Before viciously grabbing the other girl by her thin hair, yanking at the tender follicles. "Are you crazy?" She screams loudly, lost in her rage. "Are you on something? How dare you slap me?!" Emphasizing her question with a particularly hard pull of her hair. They tussle on the staircase, Ju-Ri frantically trying to pry her hands from her hair as she pushes her head into the wall. Both unaware that the commotion from their fight has garnered the attention of the basketball team, the boys cheering them on, cacophonous yells filling the previously quiet hallway. "Oh shit is that Mun-Yeong?" "Someone get Gang-Tae!" She slams Ju-Ri's head into the wall, satisfaction overcoming her at the pleasing smack it makes. Soon Ju-Ri's screams drown out the boys and then she feels her body being lifted, completely swept off her feet. Only his familiar scent stops her from lashing out at the arms around her midsection, prying her away from Ju-Ri.  Her hands remain in their tight clutch of the girl's hair but then his voice cuts through the fog in her mind, like a lighthouse. Guiding her back to the light. "Mun-Yeong, let go of her." His voice is too quiet to be a command but there is no inflection indicating a question either. He pulls her bodily away from Ju-Ri, his arms like steel around her abdomen, making her feel like a wayward child. With a final cry, she releases her hold, only to roughly shove her, aptly watching as she tumbles down the three measly stairs. Ju-Ri screams as if she had been murdered, dramatically wet eyes staring behind her, looking at him. She grabs at her once more, regaining her attention. She is elated at the look of fear in Ju-Ri's eyes as she looks up from her spot on the ground. She growls at her, bearing her teeth as she is carried away. "This was your only warning!" As soon as she is freed from the prison of Gang-Tae's arms, she begins pacing like an trapped animal, hot puffs of breath rasping out of her lungs. She feels hot with anger, which morphs into frustration before coiling into ugly shame. She dreads the look of disappointment she will see on her boyfriend's face, unlike Daniel, who was no friend of hers, she had just attacked someone he considered a friend. She knew that she had let the flames of anger consume her, this was the real reason she didn't have true friends. Most people couldn't handle her... intensity. Which was putting it nicely. She didn't like to share. Years of loneliness with parents that couldn't be bothered with her existence, had formed an ugly desire in her to latch on to the people she opened up to. She would squeeze so tightly until they ultimately burst, realizing her darkness and leaving before they too were consumed. She'd never cared enough to worry about losing anyone, all she had was Seung-Jae and Sang-In and they knew first-hand about her uglier traits, and loved her despite her flaws. But Gang-Tae had never seen this side of her, had never given her reason to show it. He looked at her like she was the sun and moon and all the stars, it would be crushing to see that love twist into fear. "Are you okay?" His voice. It was gentle. He didn't sound scared. Or disappointed. Or repulsed. Just worried, his hand on her cheek further shocking her until she brought her head up to meet his eyes. In them she saw concern, but not much else, none of the emotions others usually exhibited when they saw the real Ko Mun-Yeong. "Mun-Yeong, are you okay?" He repeated his question, cupping her cheek in his hand now. A cool balm on her hot skin. She forced out a reply, "Yes. She only slapped me, I hit her a lot more." His eyes perused her body, looking for more injuries and he let out a sigh of relief when he found none. "Aren't you.. aren't you upset that I hit your friend?" She cursed out the final word, unable to control the venom in her tone. "No, I'm mostly... confused? I didn't know you didn't like her." His brows knitted together in bewilderment, "Why were you fighting? What happened?" The memory of overhearing Ju-Ri talk to Byeol about Gang-Tae played in her mind, all of the earlier anger resurging in her blood. "Should you really be going after him? Isn't he with Mun-Yeong now?" "I liked him first! She stole him from me, I just want him to know how I feel too. Let him know he has options." After that the rest was inevitable, she couldn't hold herself back. Didn't want to in all honesty, the slap was merely the straw that broke the camel's back. "She likes you! I heard her talking about you, she said she wanted you to know you had options. I simply reminded her that there are no options, you're mine." Flabbergasted, if you searched the word in the dictionary Gang-Tae's face would be the image. He sat down in an chair of the empty classroom he had dragged her into, looking dazed. His mouth opened. Then closed. Opening once more, before closing again. Until he finally found his words, "You're jealous....of me? Of other girls liking me?" She took high offense at the skepticism in his voice and passionately retorted, "Yes, of course I am! Those...those ants want you and are trying to steal you away from me!" He grabbed her arms, stopping her mid pace, drawing her into his lap. Calming her with a single touch. His raspy baritone hypnotized her, "Breathe with me, please." She took a deep breath, matching his even breaths until she felt her anger dissipate, fizzing into nothing. "You have nothing to be jealous about. I don't want Ju-Ri or anyone else, I want you. Only you. I am yours, for as long as you'll have me." His hands rubbed up and down her sides in a soothing motion, massaging away any negative emotion left in her body. "You don't mind.... You're not upset I called you mine?" She peered at him with huge bewildered eyes. "Why would I be? As long as you're mine too." He looked at her hopefully, she didn't deign that inquiry with a verbal response. Instead taking the opportunity to utilize her spot in his lap, grabbing his face and kissing the query off his lips. Possessively shoving her tongue into his mouth, hands falling to his neck to pull him deeper into their embrace. She bit his lip then swiped the pain away, lapping at his hot wet mouth. Humming at his taste, thirsty for more. He gasped, pulling away to inhale deep breaths, his eyes were hazy with arousal. She attached herself to his neck, sucking his sweaty skin into her mouth, aroused by his moan of pleasure. "Wait, should we do this...here?" He gestured at the classroom, "What if someone comes looking for us?" She perked up at the idea, delighting in the thought of that two-faced bitch finding them and seeing first-hand that Gang-Tae belonged to her. She sucked harder instead of answering, running a hand through his hair, pulling his head to the side to give her better access. He melted in her arms, boneless at her ministrations. She looked proudly at the purple-red bruise that formed on his skin, stark on his porcelain pale skin, it would be seen a mile away. "Beautiful." She sighed caressing the marked skin, awed and proud of her work. Gang-Tae blushed looking at her like she was a predator and he couldn't wait to be eaten. Realization washed over her like a tidal wave. He hadn’t acted at all like she had imagined.  "You like this." It wasn't a question, the hard line prodding into her ass told her everything she needed to know. "I never thought you'd get jealous of me. Seeing you like this is...." "Sexy?" She finished his sentence, he held her heated stare before nodding in agreement. She laughed, boisterous laughter, he was utterly perfect for her. She wanted to wreck him. Swiveling her hip into a seductive roll, she watched the pleasure wash over his face, his pretty red cheeks and open mouth calling out to the beast that had been unleashed. She swallowed his moans, groaning as he licked into her mouth, their tongues wrestling for control, she ground into his hard erection, playing dirty to get the upper hand. "Cheater." He rasped out, eyes narrowed at her. She grinded harder, wrapping her arms around his neck, riding him through their clothes. The head of his hard cock rubbing on her moist center, she'd moved her uniform skirt out of the way, desperate to feel him. They hadn't done much sans clothes yet and she was hungry for it. Whispering into his red hot ears, "Can I take off my panties?" His hands tightened painfully on her hips, as he threw his head back in a long suffering groan. She pressed on, "Please I'm so wet, I know you're not ready for.... that. But I just want to feel you." He was shaking in her arms, little hitching breaths and she waited for his response, mouthing at the large hickey on his neck. Finally he nodded. Eyes too bright, they almost seemed to be glowing. She stood up, leaving his lap, eyeing the rigid tent protruding from his uniform pants, covetously watching, eager for the day it would also be hers. Raking her skirt up under his watchful eyes, she took a hold of her panties, he subconsciously licked his lips in anticipation, as she slid the moist material down her thighs, bending over to slip them off. He watched her soaked panties hanging from the tips of her fingers utterly captivated, before she tossed them to the side carelessly. With a coy smile, she slid back onto his lap, moaning at the sensation of his clothed cock pressing on her bare opening, rocking harder on him, as spots of color exploded behind her eyelids. It felt incredible. He was burning hot and so stiff beneath her, all her thoughts minimized down to this moment. She wanted to come. Desperately. Could feel the persistent itch under her skin. When she opened her eyes Gang-Tae's were fixed on the space between her thighs, he looked ravenous as she used him for her pleasure, muscles coiled tight as he sat painfully still as she bounced on his lap. "You can touch me. I want you to, don't be nervous." She insisted, seeing his hands brutal grip on the sides of the chair. His nails were digging into the plastic, leaving indentations. He hesitated before bringing his fingers to the lips of her pussy, briefly sliding into the opening before retracting this fingers. She groaned in frustration, it felt so good she needed more, why was he stopping? Fucking tease.  Voice laced with veneration, he said, "You're so.... it's so wet." She glared at him before chastising him, he was like this every time they were naked, surprised that she was aroused by him, "You made me like that. Don't be a tease now." He glowered at her statement, she had called him that various times before.  His fingers slowly crept to her wet opening, a barely there touch that had her shouting, and she couldn't wait anymore she was too turned on, using his thighs for support she leaned up before bearing down on his fingers, easily slipping down their entire lengths, feeling a breath punched out of her. Gang-Tae was still frozen as she began to ride his fingers, pulling him into her tight hole, wet sounds filling the room, her juices coating his fingers. Then she felt him moving inside her, driving his fingers up to meet with her downward thrusts, his thumb momentarily pressed against her clitoris and she bit her tongue at the euphoria. She was dangerously close. His dick twitched underneath her and she slowed her sensuous movement in a slow rock, peering into his pleasure dilated eyes, "Do you want to feel me?" She watched the war on his face, control and hunger battling, "I don't...I don't want our first time to be in a classroom. You deserve more." She softened at his precious words, if only he knew that any first time would be perfect as long as it was with him. The location was insignificant. "There are...other ways to feel me." At his blank stare she continued, "Do you trust me?" Instantly he nodded, and she smiled, before reaching down to catch his zipper and slowly lowered it. He wheezed, sounding short of breath but didn't stop her. She pulled his erect dick from the slit in his boxer, it stood red and impressive in her hands, perfect in size and shape, thick and long. She hummed in approval, giggling at Gang-Tae's embarrassed face. With a dick like this, he had nothing to be embarrassed about, she doubted hearing that would help his blush though.  He closed his eyes at the feel of her hands on his dick for the first time. It surely wouldn't be her last. She would make sure of that.  Then with her eyes boring into his, she slid over his cock, rubbing her wetness over the hard ridge, simultaneously they moaned at the sensation. His engorged head caught on her opening but it never went in, instead sliding through her sopping wet folds, rubbing on her swollen clit.

Soon, she was the one being devoured as he inhaled her lips with a deep sloppy kiss, his spit running down her chin, as she vigorously rode him, letting him plunder her mouth. Without prompting, his hands slithered under her shirt, groping her breasts. Roughly, moving her bra out of the way, squeezing them the way he knew she liked. His fingers twisting her rigid nipples until they were deliciously sore.

"Gang-Tae!" She screamed his name, her body overloaded from pleasure. He met her thrust for thrust, their pace vigorous, a race to the end. She pulled away from his lips, taking his face in her hands feeling him stiffen under her, she forced his head up until their eyes met, with a final punishing thrust she was falling off the edge, shouting her release. She squeezed her eyes shut, riding the waves of pleasure. He twitched beneath her, bruising grip on her breasts as his cum shot out of his cock and landed in thick streams on the floor.  She took huge gulps of air as her body cooled down, coming down from her extreme high, thin layer of sweat settling on her skin. Lifting her head from where it had fallen on his shoulder, she grinned at his goofy smile, he looked wrung out, it was a good look on him. After regaining the feeling in her legs she hopped off his lap, retrieving her panties from the floor, as she was placing her legs into them, she paused before looking at him, before walking up to him as he adjusted his own pants, flaccid cock now hidden away sadly enough. With a salacious grin, she stuffed her panties into his pocket, "You can keep those." He stuttered, too tongue tired to respond but didn’t stop her or give them back.  They stumbled downstairs to wide eyed stares that shifted into knowing glances from Gang-Tae's teammates who were just finishing up with practice. All eyes immediately latching on to the giant hickey on his neck. She'd never seen him turn quite that red.

The next day, Jae-Su's loud voice assaulted her ears as he looked at his best friend in horror, "What happened to your neck?!" Before looking at her with an accusatory glare, "What did you do to him you....you vampire!" She smiled serenely as Ju-Ri snuck past them, avoiding her eye contact, a small scrape on her knee from the fall. Gang-Tae flushed at the words but didn't cover the mark, instead taking her books before kissing her on the forehead. He was hers, happily and she wouldn't take that for granted and had no problem reminding others who might forget. 

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 1 of 2 Summary:

Takes place in the aftermath of Mag 92. Recently cleared of murder, Head Archivist, Jonathan Sims, takes a moment to decompress in the archives after a hellish week.

[CHAPTER 2 HERE]

It throbed

Ached

Burned

The events of the past few days came crashing down on Jon as soon as he left Elias’s office.  Lord, he hurt.  

Vagley, he wondered at the events that had led to working in a place where “not dying” was considered an accomplishment.  Yet alone one where a sociopathic boss allowed him to take the wrap for a murder Jon did not commit, and spend the preceding week being stalked by the circus, having unpleasant interviews with the lightless flame, being cast into the vast and hunted down by Detective Tonner.

A sense of being watched sent a jolt of fear through Jon.  He cast about for signs of Daisy.  Was she gone?  Was he safe?  He didn’t think he could deal with her now, not after-

Stop it.  

Jon sagged against the wall of the decidedly deserted corridor, the world shifting in swirling bursts.  Alone, at last and again; he was alone.  His good hand constricted around his wrist in a vain hope the pressure would alleviate the pain.  It didn’t.

A distraction, that’s what he needed.  

Perhaps he could get some work done.  It might be enough to take his mind off of things-  He recalled several articles on ADHD outlining how quickly they picked up on the presence of pain stimuli, especially when it was the most interesting thing happening at the moment.  There were a few other journals that indicated ADHD people had a higher pain tolerance than their peers.  Jon snorted.  He was still on his feet so there must be some truth to it.  

Good lord.  If he was supposed to have a high pain threshold, what must something like this be for a normal person?  Then again-he wasn’t exactly a person anymore, was he.  The way Daisy had- Stop it, now.  

The last thing he needed was to dwell on Detective Tonner and the events of the Past several hours. 

Jon all but collapsed into his chair, allowing the exhaustion leading his bones to pull him down.  He held his burned hand close.  Too close as the heat radiating off his body set his hand burning anew.  He hissed, forcing it as far away as physically allowed.  Practically prostrating himself across the marred surface of the desk.  Causing a small avalanche of paperwork and statements to slide to the floor.  

He cursed under his breath.  Why did he always have to make such a mess of things?  Why couldn’t he do anything right?  He’d driven Tim and Martin away, put Georgie in danger, couldn’t keep Melony or Basira from getting ensnared and...Sasha-  Jon swallowed past the lump in his throat, disgusted with himself.  He could barely think straight yet alone work.  His breath hitched sending a sharp jab of pain from his throbbing ribs.  Detective Tonner’s baton hadn’t...agreed with him.  Acrid saliva pooled in his mouth, for a moment Jon feared he was going to be sick.  

Jon forced himself to still and breathe.  It passed.  The insistent burning sliding back to the surface.  He did the only thing he could do, and turned attention to that all consuming pain.  Attempting to capture the feeling with objective detachment.  It was a technique perfected after the Jane Prentiss incident.  Cataloging the sensations as though they were happening to someone else, another statement for the archives.  That academic veneer had given him some modicum of control, of understanding.  

He desperately wanted that now-

Then again, that was the reason he was in this mess, wasn’t he?  Always having to know?  He sighed, sliding back into memory.

Once, while living with his grandmother, he had scalded his hand ladling out soup.  It had ached for a week and flared up if he touched anything so much as tepid.  This was so much worse.  

Unbidden, Elias’s words came floating back ‘The Archivist observes and experiences’.  Jon groaned.  Right, and what good would that do?  Distastefully, he eyed the improvised bandage of t-shirt strips.  He should change it, he knew but his stomach soured at the thought.  Recalling kneeling on the hard earth, frantically prying off the molten wax.  In his hast he hadn’t registered the blistering skin tearing away with it, leaving his palm raw and exposed.  Part of him didn’t want to face the grotesquery behind the bandage- to see what monstrous form it had taken.

It burned.

He knew it burned.  He knew it needed looking after and he begged his brain to stop sending the signals.  After all:

Message received.

End the bloody statement.

Burns were nothing at all like cuts.  Cuts were well behaved.  Delicately, Jon probed the ragged edges of the gash at his neck.  Cuts were predictable.  Pressing down till he felt the sickening twinge slice through.  For a moment there was this known experience, this expected outcome.  He forgot about the burn, replaced only by the sharp sting in his neck.  Then it all went sideways.  

Jon was looking back into the cold eyes of Detective Tonner as she pressed the blad to his throat.  She had wanted to cut him, to hurt him, to kill him.  She killed monsters, and she’d made it clear where he stood.  His pulse jumped and his chest started to restrict as he saw once more Michael Crew, prone on the forest floor.  The muzzle flash burned itself once more into his retina and Crew was dead.  Daisy had done that.  Daisy had done that right in front of him and Daisy had meant to do that to him and the fear threatening to spill over.  It was too much, just too much!

“Will you stop it!” he shouted out loud, pinching the burn with all his might, abruptly returning to the physical experience of pain in the here and now; the nausea coming back with vengeance.  He whimpered, pressing his face into the cool of his desk.  Breathe.  Just, breathe.  What good was it to be a monster if it hurt so badly?  

Once more he wraped fingers about a slim wrist, attempting to cut off the circulation.  Anything to dull that burning.  He longed to submerge it in ice.  If he couldn’t stop the pain, maybe he could numb it, a little at any rate.  

With heavy eyes, he calculated the distance between himself and the door.  Funny, it never seemed like it was that far away before.  Jon wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and rest for a few moments, but his body simply protested too much. 

Ice, right, ice would help.  

He pushed himself upright on elbows and forearms.  Jon’s legs felt heavy, as though he were borrowing someone else's.  It was hard to move, much harder than it had moments ago- he glanced at the clock, jared to see hours had slipped by.  How had that happened?  

He couldn’t understand why his body was having such a hard time moving when he’d been fine this morning.  He couldn’t understand why the world wouldn’t stop spinning.  The door to his office was closed, meaning he’d have to let go of the burn to open it.  For an insane moment, he considered surrendering and curling up under his desk.  But Jonathan Sims never knew how to give up, did he?  

Martin had had a bit of a day.  

Why wouldn’t he of?  It wasn’t every day that you find out your very life is tied to your place of employment, your coworker had been killed over a year ago replaced by a supernatural imposter and that your “double boss”, to use Tim’s turn of phrase, was a cold blooded killer.  

And Jon-

The man knew how to make an entrance, stumbling into the archives, covered in grime, flanked by Detective Tonner and Basira.  And core, he looked bad.  

After the, Martin had been whisked away by Basira and Daisy to...answer a few questions.  It had felt more like an interrogation than anything else.  He wondered why it had been so difficult for them to accept that he had been as much in the dark as the rest of them.  Tim hadn't helped matters by continuing to make a string of dark comments and Melony had started to genuinely unnerve him.  Which was saying something considering he literally worked among Eldritch horrors.  

After everything, he needed a moment to himself.  Away from angry coworkers and murderous bosses and prosecutorial police detectives.  He retreated back to the old cot in document storage, mulling things over late into the day.  For once he didn’t worry about wasting institute time.  If Elias was to be believed, Martin could no more be fired than he could quit.  Always, his thoughts returned back to Jon.  He hoped the man had good enough sense to go home and rest up.  

“I need a cup of tea-” he said to no one in particular, scrubbing a wery hand down his face.  As far as he could tell, the others had left hours ago.  Just as well, he didn’t feel up to peacekeeping at the moment.  

Martin froze at the door of the employee lounge.  Jon was there!  Standing with his forehead pressed against the fridge.  Looking for all the world like he was about to fold at any second.  Even from his vantage point across the room, Martin could tell he was trembling.  

“Jon?” he regretted speaking at once.  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jon lept like a spooked cat.  

“M-Martin-'' his voice was faint, frayed at the edges with exhaustion.  Concern gripped Martin’s chest as he took the man in properly.  

Even covered in ruddy mud; the bruises under his eyes were stark, stretching his gaunt features in agonized lines.  He had a death grip on a thin wrist of a badly bandaged hand.  It reminded Martin of the aftermath of Jane Prentiss and having to chase him away from the tunnels to ensure Jon had time to heal.  

Only this was worse, somehow.  Then, Jon had been angry, driven by the single minded purpose of finding out who had it in for the archivist position.  But now- the fight was gone, leaving him small, vulnerable and lord, he looked defeated.  

“Can I help you?” 

Jon made a complicated spazam of a movement Martin couldn’t make heads or tails of.  Muttering something about getting some ice as he listed to the side.

[CHAPTER 2 LINK]

[frostsinth]

The Secret We Keep - Pt. 5

Part 1|2|3|4  - MasterList -

I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, as I just finished it a few minutes ago. But decided not to make you guys wait any more than you had to. Your comments get me through the hell that is my job right now.

Hope you guys like it! Please, tell me what you think! Check out my MasterList(link above) to see other stories and One-Shots if you haven’t already and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you’re there if you’d like. Thank you for your continued support!

I woke to the sound of a soft knock at my door. I jumped, my knees smacking against the table where my head had just been laying. Cursing quietly under my breath, I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth and ran my hands through my hair.

What time was it, I wondered. Not dawn, as there was no light coming through the cracks of the trapdoor in the ceiling. The rain seemed to have stopped, and I blinked stupidly as I tried to sort myself out, pulling my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

I belatedly remembered what had woken me, and rose quickly to my feet, staggering over to the door. It took me a ridiculous amount of time for my half asleep brain to figure out how doors worked again, but soon I managed to pull it open.

The soft sounds of night greeted me, but my doorway was empty. I stared at it for a long moment, wondering if I was just missing something. Perhaps I had imagined the knock? I took a step out, looking around my small yard.

A large, hulking shadow moving by the cooking pit-turned-pool gave me a start. But as it turned, I saw dark blue eyes flash in the moonlight.

“Hans?” I called softly, and even to me my voice sounded heavy with sleep.

Slowly, he lumbered back over, and I tilted my head back to look up at him. In the dark, I couldn’t quite make out his face, but I saw him reach up and rub at the back of his neck with one large hand. I gave him a sleepy smile, stepping back to make space for him to enter the house. He gave a soft grunt, hunching his shoulders and haltingly slipping through the door without a word.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming back tonight,” I told him, my voice barely above a whisper in order to preserve the stillness of the night air, “...Is everything alright?... I was worried.”

He gave another quiet grunt, pausing in the center of my place, looking around at the long shadows. The candles weren’t lit; I must have fallen asleep while stringing the herbs at the table before it had become too dark to work. So the only light was from the hot coals of the still open clay oven, and as I closed the front door and turned back to consider him, I found his edges bathed in a pale red glow.

I saw him shift slightly, shuffling his feet. I gave him another shy smile, though I wasn’t sure if he could see it, and rubbed at one eye. Resisting the urge to yawn. Instead, I wrapped my shawl tighter, turning back to the door.

“...Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said, sliding the latch into place and grabbing a small log from beside the door, “...Are you hungry? O-or perhaps you want some gin?”

He caught my arm with his big hand as I moved to pass him. I froze at his touch, and felt my pulse ricochet beneath my skin. I wondered briefly if he could feel it. His grip loosened quickly, hesitantly, until his fingertips were barely trailing against my flesh. I saw him shuffle again, could almost hear his faltering breath as he turned towards me. I felt my grip on the log slacken, threatening to let it slip from my hand. But I found I really couldn’t care less.

Slowly, his other hand came towards me, tentatively grazing up my hip. I swallowed and turned to face him properly, and as he smoothed his palm along my waist, I let the log drop to the floor with a clatter. Gently, with the slightest of pressure on his fingertips, he eased me closer to himself, so close I could smell the damp rain and mud on his clothes. I tilted my head back, looking for his face in the darkness.

“... I only want you,” He murmured, his voice as deep and quiet as the shadows around us.

His fingers trailed slowly up my arm, then over my shoulder and along my neck. I felt my eyelids tremble and my breath hit the lump forming in my throat that took the distinct shape of my heart. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers rise with the movement as I did. Finally, bit by bit, his hand came to my jaw. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his warm, calloused palm smoothing against my cheek even as goosebumps scattered across my skin. I reached up, covering his huge knuckles with my own hand and leaning into his touch.

My eyes shot open at the all too familiar sensation that met my fingertips, and I drew in a sharp breath. Quickly, I curled my fingers around his hand, pulling it away from my face. I cupped it in both of mine, turning it towards the faint light.

“By the Gods, Hans!” I gasped.

He pulled his hand away, but not quickly enough. I picked up the discarded log, tossing it into the oven to coax the flames back to life. I didn’t wait for it to catch, dragging a candle over as well as my striking stones. I had it lit the first try, and turned back to the big orc.

“Let me see.” I demanded, holding out my hand. 

His rumbling reply was lost somewhere in his broad chest, and he seemed hesitant. I didn’t drop my hand though, so with a shallow sigh, he reached his own back out to place in mine. I turned his palm over, considering the backs in the light. I scooped up his other hand, the weight of both taking all my strength to hold before me.

“Are you alright?” I asked anxiously, tracing my fingers lightly over his bloody, bruised knuckles, “What happened??”

He gave only a soft grunt in response. I turned, picking up the bowl of water I kept by the oven and the candle. Bringing both over to the table, I gestured for him to sit while I fetched a clean cloth. Again, he only had a grumble to answer me, but obediently sat where I directed. I dipped the cloth in the water, picking up his hand again to gently run it over his knuckles. He didn’t flinch, watching me work quietly.

I felt a strange itching worry in my breast, settling about my bones. What exactly had happened? Where had he gone in the few hours since I had last seen him that had him returning with bloody knuckles? A dozen possibilities ran through my mind. The other orc had said it was an emergency of some kind, I remembered. Though that was hardly any kind of clue to aid my ponderings. If anything, it only raised more questions.

But I found that, despite my racing thoughts, I was no closer to an answer than when I began cleaning his hands. And I knew getting answers from the quiet orc would be harder than pulling teeth from a bear. I dropped the cloth back into the water upon finishing, stepping over to cup his face in my hands. I pushed his hair back, studying every inch. I was pleased to find that it seemed his beaten knuckles were his only injuries.

I felt my face flush when I suddenly realized how close I was standing to him, his huge head gently cradled between my hands. He looked up at me with his big, dark blue eyes, his heavy brow soft. I gave him a shy smile, tracing my fingers along his temple lightly. I saw his lips twitch, and felt his hands return to rest delicately on my hips. I dropped my gaze timidly, and heard again that soft, purring chuff bubble up from his chest. My cheeks grew hotter, but my smile grew a few inches as well.

We stayed like that for a breathy moment, his thumbs tracing small circles on my hips, my fingers skimming the scruff of his beard at the edge of his cheeks and jaw. I found my eyes dart to his thick lips, tracing along his large tusks. I saw his throat flash as he swallowed, felt his grip tighten ever so slightly.

“Can you… Can you stay for a while?” I asked softly with bated breath.

I felt his head move beneath my hands as he nodded. “..Til morning.”

I think we both stiffened at the implications of that phrase, and I felt him shift anxiously before me. I somehow found the courage to lift my head and meet his gaze again, and I watched the candlelight flicker in its depths. The sight was entrancing, so much so that I hardly noticed his big hand come up, sliding into my hair. Curling around the back of my neck.

He slowly guided me down, and this time, there was no resounding knock as our lips pressed together.

He tasted like sweat and rain, but I decided I had never tasted anything better. Though we brushed together hesitantly at first, as soon as I felt the heat buried in the curl of his lips, my shyness dropped away. I pressed closer to him, burying my hand in his own hair, opening my mouth to invite him in. He responded willingly, his thick tongue tracing along my lower lip, his tusks scraping against my cheeks as he leaned into my kiss. I cupped his cheek with my opposite hand, feeling his muscles move as he worked his mouth against mine. His hand on my hip slid until his bulging arm was fully wrapped around me, pinning my body against his damp armor.

The deep rumble of pleasure in his chest vibrated against my hips and left me quivering with delight. I felt like I couldn’t get enough of him, even with our mouths working at a feverish pace to feed our urgency. Our pent up desire. But I couldn’t breathe well while we were crushed together, and eventually had to pull back to gasp at the air.

He didn’t seem to mind, and instead pulled me lower to trace his lips over my jaw as I panted. Down my neck. Licking and sucking until a soft sigh of pleasure rolled from my lips. His hand in my hair tightened, and I felt his weight around me shift. Slowly, he stood, carefully curling over me, his shoulders hunched, his back bent. Surrounding me with his bulk.

I was painfully aware of my thin slip then, and my shawl slipped off my shoulders as he leaned over me, pooling on the ground at my feet. He unwrapped his arm from around me, undoing the clasp of his riding cloak to let it join my shawl on the ground. I reached up, standing on my tiptoes to fold my mouth back against his. He kept his hand at the back of my neck, still kissing me passionately as his other hand clumsily undid the buckles to his armor. Slowly, he guided me, spinning me and forging a path towards my bed in the corner. Every step punctuated by a piece of his armor hitting the ground.

My heart thudded in my chest like a caged bird trying to escape, and my knees felt weak. I almost fell twice, stumbling as I backed towards the bed. But each time his muscular arm darted out to steady me. The second time, he kept it curled around me, the last of his armor gone with just his tunic and trousers remaining.

We staggered together the last few feet, and when the back of my legs hit the bedframe, he released me. I let myself fall back, catching myself on my outstretched hands and looking up at him with quivering breaths. He looked down at me through his dark lashes, and I saw him hesitate. I was even sure that his cheeks flushed a little darker, though it was hard to tell in the low light. I couldn’t resist biting my lip at the sight of his huge body; his broad shoulders and burly thighs. His wild hair and heavy brow. The way his muscles bulged as he flexed his arms. I saw his eyes running over me as well, and in a bold move, smirked, scooching backwards on the bed and letting my slip hitch up my thigh as I did.

That set a hungry look into his slate blues, and his fingers found the edge of his tunic. I relished watching the way his thick, toned torso rippled as he pulled it up over his head. He dropped his hands down onto either side of me, and I heard the bed groan a soft protest as he pressed his lips back against mine. I reached up and buried both of my hands deep into the mane of hair pooling around us. Pulling him closer to me as I started to lay back towards the headboard. I heard the bed give another loud groan, but ignored it. Especially as he brought one knee up to balance himself to free his hand to clutch my thigh, pushing my slip up. Following me further up the bed.

Suddenly, there was a loud snap, followed by a resounding CRACK. I cried out loudly in surprise as we fell, plummeting the short three foot drop to the floor with a thundering BOOM. Dirt and dust spun up around us, and I realized I had squeezed my eyes shut. Letting out my breath in a whoosh, I slowly snuck them open.

The force of the bed breaking had sent a gust of air spinning through the room, blowing out the candle and leaving us in relative darkness. It had also sent a few splinters of wood flying, and had effectively hit both the bowl of water on the table, the tin pot by the stove, and the far side wall. I blinked a few times as the dust began to settle, and Hans pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. I looked around, finding the bedframe in shambles about me, the straw filled mattress pooled in the middle, the blankets and furs slowly sliding towards me nested at its center. The pot teetered from where it had been struck, then fell, hitting the ground with a clang. Breaking the sudden silence that had dropped on the room like a lead brick.

When I looked back at the big orc, his brow was furrowed, and I didn’t need the light to see his whole face was more than several shades darker. Perhaps he was scowling as a defensive mechanism, to save his pride, but it made him look absolutely betrayed and completely offended. The dark glare he shot the broken shambles of wood left little question as to where his ire was directed.

The laughter bubbled from deep in my stomach, leaving my whole frame shaking within a few moments. I fell back against the ruins of my bed, clutching my belly with one hand and my forehead with the other. The absurdity of it all, coupled with the late hour and the abrupt halt to our previous antics, proved too much for me. I was soon in tears, and my side in stitches.

Hans shuffled awkwardly, turning and considering the mess. I saw him reach up and rub the back of his neck, and his scowl deepened. He spun, reaching for the nearest piece of armor in a bustling, hurried manner.

At this, I quickly jumped up, grabbing his elbow before he could try to retreat further. The orc froze, but didn’t meet my eyes. Even when I pointedly tugged his arm with both my hands. I straightened, sliding around to his front, ducking into his line of sight.

“...Stay,” I murmured, reaching up and running my small hand along his square jaw, “It doesn’t matter…just... Please stay.”

He snorted loudly, but as our eyes met, his face softened. His scowl unwound, his brow smoothed. I rested my opposite hand on his bare chest and felt the deep sigh fill its cavernous expanse. His cheek was hot against my palm, but I didn’t care. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and lightly kissed him again. Just a quick brush of our lips. But it had him leaning forward, following me as I pulled away.

I went back to the destroyed bed, dropping into it with an amused smile. I pooled the blankets and furs in the middle, and turned to be sure that Hans was still there. He considered the heap again, and I saw him chewing his lip hesitantly.

“... You must be exhausted,” I offered, reaching out, beckoning him closer, “... Please?”

Another deep sigh, and he took my hand, dropping to his knees beside me. Slowly, I lay down on my side with my back to the wall. Hans followed suit, hesitantly curling his big arm up to pillow his head. Our eyes met again, and I smiled sheepishly. I could feel my pulse beginning to accelerate again, laying so close to him. Tasting his breath with each one I drew. I noticed his nostrils flare slightly, then his tongue tracing the inside of his mouth. I wondered what I smelled like to him, and drew in a deep breath to assess his own deep, musky scent. 

He reached out then, delicately tracing the backs of his fingers along my jaw. I leaned towards his touch, encouraging him, letting my eyelids droop. The soft chuff came from his chest again, and he shuffled, sliding closer to me. I felt his arm catch my waist, and let him pull me towards him. I let my hips fall idly against his torso, leaned forward until our noses almost touched. Breathing in more of his heavy scent.

I ran my hand over his thick neck, tracing my palm down his collarbone, smoothing it over his chest. I felt him relax beneath my touch, and rolled even closer. He titled his head, resting our foreheads together. I closed my eyes, sighing and feeling my own body slowly relax as his thick fingers ran up my back, rubbing between my shoulders.

“...You’ll need a new bed.” He grumbled, his deep rolling voice sending shivers down my spine.

I gave a short laugh, my face splitting into a smile. “I’m sure you could make me one… one for both of us…”

His responding grunt was affirmative and husky, and I felt him brush his lips against mine again. I didn’t bother to open my eyes, simply pressed my mouth deeper into his. His tongue came out, and I fed a pleased sigh to him as I willingly parted my mouth to let it trace against my own tongue. This kiss was tender, less fervorous and demanding than before, but no less passionate. I melted against him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders as far as it would go while the tips of my other hand lingered on his thick throat. He rumbled against me, like distant rolling thunder vibrating against my body. Sending goosebumps trilling across my skin.

Slowly, he broke the kiss, leaning in to plant his lips delicately against the inside of my neck. Meanwhile, one of his hands fished for a free blanket, pulling it up over us. I nestled down into his chest, burying myself in the crook of his neck with a final, tired sigh.

I suddenly noticed a sound, and frowned, trying to place what it was. I curled back a little, tilting my head to the side.

“Hans, do you hear that?” I asked him softly. I felt him stiffen beside me, but he gave a grunt, sounding less than interested. I frowned. “It sounds like it’s coming from the yard.”

His big hand smoothed over my shoulders, lulling me back to rest my head against him again. I felt his lips and tusks against the top of my head, and let my eyes flutter back closed.

“Don’t worry.” He murmured against my hair, though he sounded a little distracted.

Reassured, I filed it away as weird nighttime sound, and let myself slowly drift off to sleep. Cocooned against his warm chest.

...

UPDATE: Part six HERE

[matildaofoz]

The Harvest Pt.1 (Warlock!Michael x Reader)

A/N: Happy Halloween, Witches and Warlocks! Here it is, part 1 of The Harvest, the one night of the year were predator and prey come to revel under the Blue Moon. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Cursing and the promise of more to come in Pt. 2

Tag List: @prophecy-is-inevitable​ @jimmlangdon​ @drasangel​ @leatherduncan​ @sexwon131​ @rocketgirl2410​ @9layerdevilfoodcake​ @vulgarprayer​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @michaellandgons-sunshine​ @iwillboilyourteeth​ @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul​ 

I hope I tagged all of you who showed interest, if not - I’M SORRY! Forgive me (and shoot me amessage so I can add you for Pt.2)

Fair Maiden,

you are hereby cordially invited to attend the annual celebration and Warlock tradition that is The Harvest.  

Upon the last night of October, you will partake in the ancient tradition as a guest of honor, taking place at the Langdon Estate.

All further necessary arrangements will be divulged to your person at an appropriate time.

We look forward to welcoming you and remain until such time

Sincerely,

Ambrose Holt,

High Warlock

The hand holding the parchment sank into your lap after you finished reading its contents out loud to your mother and stepfather. Confusion and a hint of fear flitted over your features and you began to worry your lip as your eyes skimmed over the contents again in an effort to make sense of them.

“That damned Son of a Whore, Ambrose Holt!” your stepfather cursed, beginning to pace the length of the drawing room.

“John Henry Moore, hold your tongue!” your mother hissed, taken aback by his foul language. Her eyes followed him around the room as she scooted closer to you on the chaise longue to take a look at the letter herself.

“It's all my fault! I never should have taken the two of you back here with me. I was foolish to think that something like this wouldn't happen,” he seethed, running his hands through his dark hair. He stemmed himself off the fireplace mantel, his mind racing at the significance of the letter.

“We'll tell them she won't attend, it's simple,” your mother retorted, placing one hand atop your own still clutching the piece of paper. The look on her face told you that she wanted to believe her own words more than anything.

“Darling, that won't be an option. Once you are invited you have to attend, you do not decline a High Warlock's Summon. This is a direct attack on me in the most barbaric way and I’ve dragged you both into my mess.” A humourless chuckle rumbled from his chest at the admission. Your mother’s hand squeezed yours tightly, lips drawn thin as she watched her husband. This was beyond a nightmare. He needed to come up with a plan, a way to halt the events that had been set in motion but begun a long time before he met you and your mother.

“I need to pay a visit to an old friend,” he muttered under his breath suddenly as he pushed himself off the mantelpiece and rushed for the door.

“Where are you going?” your mother threw after him but he was already out in the hallway.

“I’m going to see Behold Chablis. Don’t wait up for me!” he shouted before the front door slammed shut and the two of you were left in silence.

“It will be alright, Angel. Don’t you worry,” your mother said. She forced a smile and you weren’t sure if her words were meant solely for your own reassurance.

You remained silent, looking down at the letter, an uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. If your stepfather sought the council of another warlock when he had sworn of his brotherhood for over a decade, it was a bad omen of things to come. Your eyes traced the elegant penmanship on the page. The Harvest. Whatever it was, it made the skin on the back of your neck prickle.

The letter had arrived that afternoon while you were busy tending to the garden with your mother. John Henry had taken custody of the letter, delivered by a private courier and paled as he saw the High Warlock Council's sigil etched on the envelope beneath your name.

Before your mother's marriage to the Warlock, you had believed the supernatural to be but flights of fancy, parables adorning the pages of children's fairy tales as a way to keep them from misbehaving, whispered his hushed voices over a candle under the guise of a full moon to scare each other. All that changed with John Henry's entry into your life at the age of 12. While he was himself a Warlock, a fact he kept hidden from everyone around him except for you and your mother, he had come to condemn his kind several years before. He felt his brethren had strayed from the righteous path of magick, meant to guide, heal and better the lives of those through who's veins it flowed in favour of a darker, more sinister purpose. At the centre of it, he believed the Langdon's were to blame. They had corrupted those around them, slithering their way even into the High Council itself and changing the fabric of the ancient brotherhood.

He told you what he thought you would need to know when you were old enough to at least partially understand, for your own protection should such a time arise. You were not of his blood but you were his daughter and he had sworn that he would protect both your mother and you. The arrival of the letter had made it clear that the time had come and he wasn't sure he would be able to make good on his promise to you after all.

He did not come back that night and after you mother had retreated to their bedroom, you too went up to your room to ready yourself for bed. However much you willed it, sleep did not come easy. In the darkness of your room, dimly illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the windows, your eyes were drawn to your writing desk were you had placed the letter. The words kept running throughout your head and the more you thought about them, the less you felt you understood them. With a huff you turned onto your side, squeezing your eyes shut tightly in an effort to stop the thoughts running a mile a minute. It must be past midnight by now and you were no closer to falling asleep. The last day of October was just over a week away and even though you couldn't possibly know what the night held in store for you, you'd be damned if you showed up unprepared. You may not be magically-inclined but you were well-versed in the art of reading. John Henry's library was just down the hall, the myriad of manuscripts and tomes softly calling your name in the dead of night.

“Oh, curse all this!” you muttered under your breath, throwing the blankets off your body and tiptoeing across the room to the door, evading the creaking floorboards that would alert your mother. She was a terribly light sleeper. The air around you was frigid, your nightgown doing nothing to keep out the chill that crept up your legs and over your bare arms. You edged along the wall to your desk, placing the knitted shawl hung over the chair around your shoulders.

Quietly, you inched across the hallway, stopping for a moment to look at your parents closed bedroom door. Silence. Taking it as your cue, you flitted to the door on the far end of the corridor, hoping to God that he hadn't locked it. Gingerly, you pushed down on the handle so it wouldn't squeak. The door swung ajar. Unlocked. With a small satisfied grin, you pushed through the opening and closed it behind you silently. A relived sigh escaped your lips as your eyes struggled to adjust to the dark room, any moonlight blocked out by thick curtains. You had only been in John Henry's study a couple of times, to stand at the threshold as you told him that dinner was ready or to venture in to bring him a cup of tea while he poured over manuscripts behind the large mahogany desk. While he did believe wholeheartedly that a lady should be educated beyond learning to play the piano and housekeeping, he had made it clear that the books in his study were off limits.

“There is nothing in my study that a young lady such as yourself need concern yourself with. The less you know, the better,” his words rang in your ears. You wagered he would be eating his own words right about now, considering the events of the afternoon. You scoffed, as you inched your way across the plush carpet under your bare feet, to where you believed his desk was. Your eyes were beginning to make out the silhouettes of the furniture and soon enough your hip bumped into hard wood. You winched at the the small pain and your hands began to feel out for the box of matches you knew he kept on the desk somewhere. He could easily light the candles or the fireplace in his room with a snap of his fingers because he had shown you. However, he preferred not to, saying it made him feel more like any other man who was not gifted with his supernatural inclination.

“Ha!” you exclaimed as your right hand came upon the match box, your left coming up over your mouth to stifle the sound. Several seconds went by with you as still as a statue as you waited to hear your parents bedroom door creak open. When no sound bar the pounding of your heart reached your ears, you let out a breath, cursing yourself. You couldn't risk being found out when you hadn't even begun to gather any information. Without wasting any more precious time, you swiftly took out a match and light it on the rough side of the box. The flame came to life before your eyes and all you could see was the bright light for several blinding seconds. Your eyes roamed over the desk now bathed in the small flame and you found the candle holder. You took off the glass cover and held the match to the wick, lighting the candle and placed the cover back over the now burning candle to keep it from being blown out. Hooking your finger into the holder, you ventured over to the wall of books, suddenly discouraged from your task at the sheer volume of knowledge stacked into the ceiling-heigh bookcases tat adorned the wall. This was going to be much more tedious than you had anticipated. Your eyes began skimming over the spines, half of what was on them not making any sense to you.

The Seven Wonders, The Musings of one Augustus Bromhold, Lupercalia throughout the Ages, The Warlock's Pocket Guide to Necromancy. You continued along the shelves, some of the books so old that in the dim light you couldn't make out the writing and some didn't seem to have any on the spines at all.

A Complete History of Warlock Traditions

At the title, your mind went back to the letter. The Harvest had been described as an annual tradition so surely, in a book entitled 'A Complete History of Warlock Traditions' it must be mentioned. You peeled the tome from the confines of the shelf and went to sit in the armchair stood next to the cold fireplace in the corner. You placed the candle on the small side table and and opened the book at the back, hoping to reveal the glossary. Having found what you were looking for, you flipped back to the page and began to read, teeth softly gnawing at your lower lip.

The Blood Harvest, an archaic ritual celebration held on the 31st of October was outlawed by the High Warlock Council on 4th April, 1763. Still referred to by outliers of the Warlock Brotherhood simply as The Harvest, in an effort to conceal the brutal nature of the dark rite of passage ritual, it is rarely observed to this day. The High Council has prosecuted the outlawed celebration and of those who oppose the rule of law and remain faithful to the ritual to this day. 

Celebrated annually before its outlaw, the ritual invoked the divine duality. Warlocks and human women, dressed to represent The Horned God and Triple Goddess respectively, partook in the ritual sacrifice on All Hallow's Eve to appease the supernatural beings that stalk the living on the night of the undead. Often cited to bestow great powers on the Warlocks who successfully complete the ritual rite of passage with one of the women selected, it is now widely regarded as nothing more than bloodshed, sacrificing those unfortunate and unknowing females to a slow and painful death at either the hands of the Warlocks if they so choose or the creatures invoked as formidable foes to the young men as a way to prove their supremacy over the dark forces and step into adulthood.

A cold shudder ran down your spine as your eyes read over the passage, letting the book sink into your lap. How was it possible that a High Warlock invited to you to an outlawed tradition by the High Council itself 100 years ago no less? Unless, it was no longer outlawed...John Henry's knee-jerk reaction to the letter no longer seemed so cloak-and-dagger.

A sudden creaking of floorboards on the other side of the door made your pulse thrum in your neck. Had your stepfather returned or perhaps you had been too loud and your mother had heard? You would've heard either the front door or the bedroom door open but then your mind was still swooning from your discovery. Gingerly, you placed the book on the side table next to the candle and inched to the door. Your breath caught in your lungs as you listened, on ear pressed to the cool wood. You could hear someone, something on the other side. The sounds of scratching against the wood made you shrink back, one hand coming to rest over your chest, your heart beating erratically. Your other hand reached for the door handle and you collected your wits about you before you pushed down the handle and yanked it open. You were greeted by a mass of fur and dark eyes that shot up to your face, equally as surprised as you were.

“Oh heaven's, Rosie!” you hissed, trying to calm yourself down at the sight of the family dog that must've heard you wandering around and decided to see for herself what you were up to in the dead of night. She tilted her head slightly at the mention of her name, looking past you and into the study that was off limits to her, her nose sniffing at the foreign scent of the room. If it wasn't for your incessant insistence that the St. Bernard was despite her outward appearance, nothing more than an overgrown lap dog,your parents would have kept her outside almost exclusively. With a lazy curiosity, she stepped over the threshold past your legs to inspect the new-found territory. You quickly walked past her to place the book back in its place on the shelf and took the candle holder in your hand, before turning around to see that Rosie had plopped herself down on the carpet in the middle of the room, watching you through her friendly heavy eyes.

“Rosie, you know you are not allowed in here. Well, technically neither and am I so where does that leave us? Come on, let's not leave any trace of us being here,” you berated her half-heartedly, grabbing her by he collar in the hopes that she would grace you with compliance. She looked up at you with an expression of indifference, seeing as your late-night musing must've roused her from her slumber downstairs as she came back up on all fours with a huff to trot out the room in front of you, waiting at the threshold.

“I don't know about you, but I could use some fresh air, what do you say?” you whispered in her direction, her presence calming your frazzled nerves somewhat. With one final glance around the study, you exited, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possible, leaving no trace of your trespassing. Should your mother, wake you could put the blame on Rosie for rousing you to go outside. You'd make sure to bring the candle back up with you, when you came back later. With a nod of your head, you silently bade her to follow you down the stairs and out the front door.

The midnight air was as welcome to your burning skin as it was chilling, serving to ground you and you pulled the shawl tighter around your shoulders with one hand, the candle in the other dimly illuminating the air around you. You watched the lit wick flicker slightly, growing and wavering in intensity, shielded only by the glass from the wind. Ever since this afternoon, your world had begun to tilt on its axis, threatening to plunge you into the unknown, to blow out that candle and yet there was no glass cover to keep you from being engulfed by the darkness that surrounded you. Rosie began to make her rounds around the front of the house and you became lost in your thoughts of what would happen but a week from now. John Henry had tried to shield you, believing it was safe to finally return to his birthplace with you in tow. Now it seemed, all those years of shielding you from his past would come to haunt your present.

Rosie's low growl beside you pulled you out of you reverie and your eyes snapped into the direction she faced, teeth bared and snarling. You struggled to see the source of her sudden defence through the candlelight blinding you of your surroundings and the dense mist that settled over the ground at night. Beyond the stone walls along the gravel road, you could make out a cloaked dark form and for a moment you thought it was John Henry who had come back from his visit to his old warlock friend. Yet the tall figure stopped about 100 yards away in the middle of the road, an ominous feeling creeping up your legs and spine at the sight. Your house was nestled in the countryside, the next estate and their occupants miles away. You stood, frozen to the spot as you waited for the figure to move. Around them, the fog grew thicker, spreading outward like pipe smoke blown against a glass pane, and engulfing both you and Rosie, who began to growl beside you.

Michael watched as you left the house, your nightgown billowing in the frigid night breeze, revealing glimpses of the smooth skin of your legs. When Ambrose Holt had told him of the letter sent to John Henry's stepdaughter, he knew he needed to see for himself what would ultimately be the downfall of that heretic Warlock who had come too close to undoing all of what his family, his father had set out to achieve. To restore the warlock bloodlines to their former glory and to retake what he and many others considered to be their birthright. It was foolish to think that mere humans could achieve what his kind had over millennia, he scoffed at their hubris in the face of such mundaneness. John Henry had forsaken his kind and had tried to smother their power, their supremacy.  He should've remained in his self-imposed exile, Michael mused as his eyes took you in, still unaware of his gaze on you, smiling at the way the breeze plucked small strands of your hair out the loose braid you wore to bed, the way it flushed your cheeks a rosy red. You would make the perfect Goddess to his Horned God.

He could whisk you away right now when you offered yourself so freely, unattended in the middle of the night, your pet of a dog wouldn't stand in the way one bit. Patience, he chastised himself as he walked closer along the road with calculated slow steps, his black cloak swishing around him, his hood drawn down into his face. He had waited this long to take revenge on John Henry, he could wait a week more, even though you made it hard for him when your eyes finally spotted him, raking over him at the sounds of that wretched beast beside you. Underneath the hood, he grinned, satisfied by your reaction. He could smell your fear even from here, so deliciously terrified at the site of him, frozen on the spot. He had you precisely where we wanted you. With a barely cognisant flick of his wrist at his side, the fog grew ticker around him and his invisible fingers reached through it to graze along the backs of your legs and up your spine. Oh, he was going to enjoy this years Harvest more than ever when the prize was you and all you embodied.

You felt the fog move against the base of your neck, distinctly like fingers on your skin. The candle in your hand began to flicker and blew out, leaving your in darkness, only the pale moonlight as your guide. Your eyes grew wide as you were plunged into darkness and before them, the cloaked stranger disappeared into thin air, swallowed by the mist. Rosie's growls stopped and she shook off her guard, back to her usual self. You met her gaze, you heart still pounding furiously before you hastened back to the house, nearly tripping on your way up the stone steps. Rosie trotted after you, nudging you up the stairs. Even though she didn't seem half as bothered as you, she rarely moved this quickly. You pushed open the front door, Rosie slipping inside past your feet. You threw the door closed behind you, your back pressing into the wood as you struggled to catch your breath. For a moment, you stood in darkness and silence before heading up to your room, not caring if your mother would wake at the ruckus you made. You prayed that John Henry would be back by the morning with answers. The candle holder out of his room stood forgotten on the hallway table.

[dharc16]

SAMHAIN

FAMILY FRIENDLY RITUAL

If you’ve got kids at home, try celebrating Samhain with some of these family-friendly and kid-appropriate ideas.

1- Honor your ancestors

In many cultures, ancestor veneration is an important part of the season. Depending on how old your children are, you may want to use this time of year as an opportunity to introduce your kids to the people whose blood runs through their veins.

Study Genealogy: All of us came from somewhere, so why not figure out what that place might have been? Get your kids involved in learning about their forbears, even if it's just something as simple as asking Grandma what it was like to live when she was a child. Take the information you learn, and fill out a family tree chart — if you're feeling really crafty, use that info to make an ancestor altar cloth!

Got photos and family heirlooms? Set up an ancestor altar in a place of honor in your home. Is your child — or are you — adopted? That's okay, you can still honor your kinfolk, you just have to go about it a slightly different way. Consider celebrating archetypes that represent your ethnic or cultural background.

2- Family Friendly Ritual

Let’s face it, sometimes ritual is hard to get through when you’re little. The trick to keeping young children involved is to keep them occupied – that means rethinking ritual ideas so that it can fun as well as spiritual. This ritual is designed to celebrate Samhain with younger kids.

Obviously, if your children are older, or you have younger kids who are very focused and mature, you may not need a “kids ritual.” However, for those of you that do, this is a rite you can complete, from start to finish, in about twenty minutes. Also, keep in mind that you are the best judge of what your child is ready for. If he wants to paint his face, bang a drum and chant, let him do so — but if he'd rather participate silently, that's okay too!

Use a basic altar setup for this ritual. If your kids are old enough to not burn the house (or themselves) down when near an open flame, you can use candles, but they’re not required for this ritual. A nice alternative is the small LED tealights, which can go on your altar safely.

In addition to your Samhain decorations, place photos of deceased family members on the altar. If you have other mementos, such as jewelry or small heirlooms, feel free to add those.

Finally, have a cup with a drink in it that the family can share — milk, cider (always a great option in the fall), or whatever you may prefer. Obviously, if someone is sporting a cold or runny nose, you might wish to use individual cups.

Gather your family around the altar, and ask each child to stand quietly for a moment to take a few minutes to think about the different family members that have passed away.. If your child is too young to know anyone who has passed away they can simply think about the family they have now, and all the living people who are important to them.

After everyone has taken a moment to think about their ancestors, and before anyone starts to fidget, begin the ritual.

Parent: Tonight we are celebrating Samhain, which is a time when we celebrate the lives of the people we have loved and lost. We are going to honor our ancestors so that they will live on in our hearts and memories.

Tonight, we honor [name], and [name].

Go through the list of specific people you wish to honor. If someone has died recently, start with them and work your way back. You don’t have to unleash the names of every single person in your family tree (because it could be Yule before you finish), but it’s important to mention the people who have had the most impact on your life. If you want, to help the kids understand who everyone was, you can go into more detail as you name the ancestors off:

“Tonight we honor Uncle Bob, who used to tell me funny stories when I was a kid. We honor Grandma, who lived in a cabin in Kentucky where she learned to make the best biscuits I’ve ever had. We honor cousin Adam, who served in the Army and then bravely fought cancer before he crossed over…”

Once you’ve named off all of the ancestors, pass the cup around the circle. As you pass it, you can say, “I drink in honor of my family, of the Holy Trinity, and of the bonds of kinship.” Take a sip, and pass it to the next person, saying, “I share this with you in the name of our ancestors.”

Once everyone has had their turn, replace the cup on the altar. Ask everyone to join hands and close their eyes for a moment.

Take a moment for quiet reflection, and then end the rite in whatever way works best for your family.

Adapted from

Wigington, Patti. "Celebrating Samhain With Kids." Learn Religions

[writer-and-artist27]

[Image Description: Four screenshots from Fate/Grand Order showing in order, (1) the Bond Level Up screen for Rider Marie Antoinette, where her Bond Level has gone up from 9 to 10; (2) the “Craft Essence Extracted” screen that shows Marie’s Max Bond Craft Essence of “My Necklace”; (3) a screenshot of Marie's Servant card, with emphasis on all 10 of her bond diamonds in the level screen being filled and about to be enhanced to Bond 11; and (4) a “Bond Level Limit Released” screen that shows Marie’s Bond Level limit being broken to reach Level 11. End Description.]

A part of me is just tempted to break out into tears right now. My first gacha-summoned Gold Servant, after the tutorial roll, now almost three years later, is finally at Bond 10 just like her fellow red Archer. And considering she was one of the first Servants I ever wrote for in Passing Days, this moment makes it all the more precious to me.

Thankie, Marie. Thank you for being my Queen through all the Singularities and beyond. Even with a gold-armor-clad Hero by your side now, you're still my Queen.

And I have to honor you with writing just as much as I have everyone else, right? With song and all. (￣^￣ゞ

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

Marie Antoinette knew that Vy Duong was a kind girl. Why else would she go to Marie as a front-line Rider for so long, in the Singularities to even the Lostbelts, when there could've been any other Servant in line to accompany her? Marie was still a Queen of France, and the last one at that, so for Vy to smile and call upon her meant the world to her.

It made it all the more surprising when, three years later, Vy was calling her back into that familiar Enhancement Center to hold a rainbow flame in her direction.

"Vy..." Marie was caught between her usual smile and surprised giggling, hastily pressing her fingers against her mouth to hide it from her Master's view all the while. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Aye!" Vy smiled, brighter than even the rainbow flickering between her palms as she raised it in Marie's direction with an extra roll of her shoulders. "A Bond Chalice just for you, Marie!"

Marie blinked rapidly to keep the forming tears away, exhaling the shakiest breath she didn't need as she looked into Vy's brown eyes. "Master..."

Vy tilted her head back at Marie in return, the joy in her eyes fading away for confusion and worry. "You've been with me since Orleans, Marie," she whispered in a softer voice, taking a step closer to push the golden cup into Marie's gloved hands. "Why wouldn't I give a Chalice to you?"

That beautiful, rare heart of yours is why I...

Once Marie realized she was silent for a moment too long, Vy blinked at her before smiling again. "If you're still unsure, I think I have something that'll prove how I feel about you. Only if you're up to listening, Marie?"

"O-Of course, Vy." Marie lowered her hands to smile, gripping the Chalice between her fingers enough to not let go. Whether Vy noticed the nervous gesture or not, she didn't give off such an impression, instead smiling wider as she took a step back, tapping her boot against the Enhancement Center's floors once, then twice. "What are you-?"

Vy merely closed her eyes enough for her glasses to shine before she opened her mouth and sang. "Nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide. Between a rock and a hard place. Someone to find. I know that times are tough, just down and out, putting my faith in tomorrow."

Marie found herself exhaling shakily again, Chalice still amazingly standing between her fingers. With her hands clasped in front of her chest and her long brown hair framing her face, Vy looked almost radiant in Marie's eyes. Just like a Princess.

"I am ready to go, but I don't know where to start. Each and every road seems to be calling to me. Pulled in every which way, so I made my own path. A deep breath and my best foot forward! One small step from zero, I’m not afraid! ‘Cause the world that we want is right here for us to make. Just taking one small step to hero, I’ll take the chance-!"

Marie felt her heart skip once Vy opened her eyes to look into hers, singing the last lines with confidence. "And when I do, I’ll be thinking of the same thing I always do - It’s always you."

I love you, Marie. Thank you. Thank you for being with me.

Marie couldn't even deny the tears starting to trickle down her cheeks and past her lashes as she finally threw the Chalice away, rushing at her Master with her arms outstretched. Vy giggled happily in time with her receiving the hug in earnest, winding her arms around Marie's waist just as Marie wrapped hers around Vy's neck. Marie could hear a faint clatter of metal behind her, probably from the Bond Chalice, but she couldn't muster the energy to care as she squeezed Vy to herself, laughing in return.

"I'm always thinking of you too. It's always you too."

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling  my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach. 

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them. 

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone. 

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow. 

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling. 

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt. 

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is. 

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing. 

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled. 

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head. 

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered. 

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered. 

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered. 

She sighed. 

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.” 

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger. 

 The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. 

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced. 

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way. 

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days. 

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted. 

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.” 

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly. 

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out.  “ I shuddered. 

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing .  Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well. 

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind. 

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again. 

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about  with pretty feminine clothes . 

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me. 

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not. 

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes .  When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank. 

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him. 

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth. 

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over. 

The nerve. 

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up. 

I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.” 

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not. 

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual. 

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. 

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped. 

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset. 

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard . 

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply. 

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing. 

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on. 

 “ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart. 

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists . 

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind? 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me. 

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?” 

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look. 

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened. 

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance. 

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.” 

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly. 

Coward. 

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out. 

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly. 

 Ugh.

 “ They’ve asked me out before, yes.” 

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen. 

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly. 

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous. 

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently. 

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. 

A small frown made its way to his face. 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench. 

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile. 

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth . 

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him. 

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me. 

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face. 

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter. 

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly. 

My father was slightly slack jawed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is  my  neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon. 

Daughter, my ass. 

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly. 

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?” 

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded. 

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon. 

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong. 

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare. 

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away. 

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.” 

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “ 

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned. 

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately. 

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “ 

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.” 

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed. 

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned. 

Jungkook groaned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it,  my friend cancelled . 

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently. 

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged. 

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.  

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him. 

And I couldn’t forget that. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked. 

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head. 

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow. 

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed . 

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan.   “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips. 

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence. 

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.” 

“He loves you.” I breathed , “  You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden. 

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted. 

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop. 

I had to tell him this. 

 “ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest. 

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well. 

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called. 

I groaned. 

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently. 

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.” 

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine. 

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.” 

And just like that the wall grew between us. 

His kids and my kids. 

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me. 

He would never be for me. 

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry. 

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. . 

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[exosmutfactory]

How I Look On You 004

Chun-hei is stuck between feeling too busy to commit and too young to settle down. And with her bustling book publisher business, bachelors and alike are all swarming around her for a chance at publicity. She’s doing a good job at keeping the men at bay—until Byun Baekhyun, that is. Doesn’t mean he’ll have it easy though.

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 |  Part 4 ✓ |  Part 5 |

Tagging: @baeklination​ coz I think she’d like to be in the know about this 👀 let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged for the last chapter! 💕

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

The Confusion

—

Why are you only good to me

When I'm bad to you?

Why are you only?

Loving you and hating you is in, depending on the day

Tell me why are you only good to me

When I'm bad to you?

—

Opening my eyes to a familiar yet unexpected bedroom is oddly comforting. Or maybe it is because of the smell of cinnamon and the woods after it rains that causes my shoulders to relax under the thick comforter. Until the daze of sleep leaves in wake of a horrendous headache.

I sit up way too soon for the pounding in my head; close to losing the contents of my stomach before squeezing my eyes shut. Even swallowing is hard. I’m never doing this shit again.

With a groan I gingerly reach for the glass of water sitting on top of the nightstand; glancing down at the two pain pills left there before deciding to take them as well. Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, I try to remember the previous night as my headache slowly ebbs away; letting my gaze drift over the room. My whole body stiffening in realization. I saw something I probably shouldn’t, and I... didn’t come here for sex...

No matter how much time goes by before I even get another glimpse of Seoyeon, I can still pin-point her striking colored hair and confident stance anywhere—unless there is a twin she hasn’t told any of us about. Honestly that could be a likely conclusion as well with how tight-lipped she is with “personal” things. Guess shoving her tongue down her bosses throat isn't considered a “personal thing.”

Flinching at the sudden buzz coming from under my back, I flip over the clean white pillow to find my phone. Jihun’s name flashing across the screen. Briefly glancing at the time of 9:30 am I tentatively swipe to accept the call.

“Chun-hei, sorry if I woke you up,” She begins through the speaker; sounding calmer than I expected, “I’m just calling to check in with you.”

I blink, brows furrowing, “It’s okay.”

“Good.” She sighs, making my brows furrow even more. “Um...why are you so accepting of me not showing up to work?”

“I called you last night, you don’t remember?”

Blinking again I check through my call log, finding her name next to the time of 2:30am. “No,” Trying to remember the time through my blurry visions of last night is proving to be difficult, I don’t even know what time I got here...

“Good.” She sighs almost in relief causing an eyebrow raise from me. “You sure are calm about this.”

“Barely,” She grits, frustration slipping through her voice, “I called you after dragging a deadweight Minji back to my apartment just to hear a certain ‘Byun Baekhyun’s’ voice over the line.”

Heat swiftly crawls up my neck to my cheeks, “I-I accidentally gave the cab his address.” I defend with a flaming face. It is way too early to be flustered like this.

“Good,” She replies, sounding satisfied, “You looked like you’d black out at any moment,” I kinda did—“and based off how worried he was, you did.”

“Oops?”

“Yeah, right.” I can hear the rolling of her eyes, “Got to go, the meeting with the board is in 5 minutes and I haven’t finished preparing myself to take on their judging evil ass eyes alone.”

“Ouch.” I wince, a clear image of similar scenarios running through my throbbing head. “Thank you, Jihun,” I utter sincerely, playfully adding, “You know I love you right?”

“Whatever. You better be glad I get paid for this,” She grumbles, but I know she’s smiling.

“You’re the best~” I sing, disconnecting the line. Laying back on the bed, I look up at the white ceiling, trying in vain to remember everything from last night.

“..he likes you..”

Dark brown eyes watching me from across the room.

“Seojun has been far up his own ass since day one..”

Peach colored hair.

“..can’t believe Seoyeon isn’t here.”

Minji is as pale as a ghost.

“—gets all stiff when you mention—”

Wait.

I sit up, eyes wide in realization, Minji. Throwing back the covers, I swing my legs out of bed. Taking a few steps towards the door before the chill of my body registers in my mind. I look down at the long white t-shirt and tight black athletic shorts on my form before carrying on out the room; carefully opening the door and peeking around the corner. The sight that greets me too cute to bear at 9 in the morning.

Baekhyun sprawled out on the couch with wild black hair and eyelashes caressing glowy cheeks. Soft puffs of air escaping his parted yet slightly pouty lips. He is the picture of adorable right now.

I smile to myself before tip-toeing over to the other side of the apartment; finding my dress from the night before freshly washed and ironed. Sat on top of the modest dining table. Gratitude swells in my chest as I slip out of the borrowed clothes; carefully setting the folded pile on the table when something clatters to the floor.

Shooting a wary look over at the still sleeping Baekhyun, I reach under the table for the object; a single bronze key clutched in my palm. My heart racing at the underlined intentions. Pulling on my heels before slipping out of the door, I take one last glance back at him; not even fighting my fond smile.

Sighing softly once the door is shut, I type in a familiar contact while making my way down the stairwell. The 4 flights will be good for my overworking brain; filled to the brim with thoughts of Baekhyun and the company as I bring my ringing phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Minji.” I utter, a little in awe at her sounding so clear this morning. “Are you working today?”

“Yeah,” She sounds less enthusiastic this time; a certain edge to her soft voice.

“Good, I’m just around the block.” I observe, checking the surroundings of Baek’s apartment building fully for once in the daylight. “I’m coming over.”

“I’ll get your usual.” She mumbles, swiftly ending the call.

Taking a deep breath, I tuck my phone back into my pocket, speed walking down the remotely clear pedestrian walkways until I see a familiar sky blue building up ahead. The smell of fresh bread and the soft twinkle of the doorbell overhead bringing fond memories; ones I fear may be a bit painful to reminisce after today.

Minji looks up from helping a lady at the counter, smiling politely at the praises of her hard work and wishing her a good day. We're the only ones left after she leaves; Minji continues to stand there, seemingly lost in thought.

"...Um hey?" I give her an odd look, slowly approaching the counter.

"H-Hi," She mumbles, quickly retreating to the kitchen, "Have a seat. I'll be right back!"

Looking after her warily, I sat down at a booth in the back of the room; lazily watching the people walking past the far window with my chin on my palm as the sounds of running water filled the quiet room.

“Sorry,” She flusters, quickly setting a steaming brown mug and a slice of apple pie on the table before sliding into the opposite seat.

“It’s fine,” I reassured her, patting her hand, trying to ease her nerves. Gingerly cupping the mug in my palms, I gently blow on the ginger lemon tea. “How’s the bakery?” I inquire, quirking a brow with a smile. “Seems to be a real hotspot these days.”

“Business as usual,” She mumbles, tugging at the sleeve of her purple cashmere sweater.

“Hey...” I set down the mug, trying to meet her eye, “You okay?”

She begins to nod, stopping short with a shaky sigh. “N-” She stops, lips trembling. Croaking as tears fill her eyes, “No.”

“Hey hey hey,” I look around, pulling out a packet of tissues and makeup wipes from my purse reserved for moments like these before holding them out to her. She blindly reaches for them, still not meeting my eyes. “Minji… What’s wrong?” I soothe. My unease is growing by the minute.

She mumbles something unidentifiable under her breath and I lean forward, eyeing her worriedly. “What?”

Her head snaps up. “I’m sorry!” She blurts, shiny eyes wide with fear.

“I—” I flinch back at her wail, watching her get progressively more distressed with furrowed brows. “Minji I’m a bit lost here. What are you sorry for?..”

The purple haired woman takes a couple moments to dab at the corner of her smudged eyeliner, sniffling quietly before uttering, “Seoyeon…” She pauses, meeting my eyes for the first time today, “Seoyeon and Seojun are fooling around.”

A moment passes, only the bustling life from beyond the windows filling the silence. “Okay,” I slowly nod, ignoring the itching suspicion beginning to form at the back of my mind. Disappointed but not surprised.

“No,” Minji sniffles, shaking her head. “You don’t understand..”

“It’s okay, Min,” I soothe, putting on a small smile. “Seojun is a part of my past now.” Shrugging nonchalantly, I lean back in my seat, cupping my warm mug in my palms. “What they do is really none of my—”

“—Seoyeon slept with him while you were together.” She drops the ball.

I choke a bit on my tea, setting down the glass harder than intended. “Wha-” I cough leaning forward, fist against my mouth, “What did you just say?”

Minji keeps her teary eyes on the tabletop. The temperature in the room seems to drop a whole 10 degrees as the realization sets in.

“No.” I shake my head, tears brimming my eyes. “No, she wouldn’t…”

“I can’t believe Seoyeon isn’t here.”

“—she gets all stiff when you mention men..”

“—Who? Who?” Seoyeon craned her neck around; trying to catch sight of the man.

“Yah!” Minji whisper shouts, lightly smacking the back of her head. “Leave her be, she needs this..”

No… No. We have been friends since high school, back when she could never find the right concealer for her skin tone and Kim Publishing was but a mere thought…

“You never know,” She replies tossing her freshly dyed red hair, “Maybe you’d learn something if you left your office for once.”

Someone blocks Seojun from view; a woman with peach-colored hair that causes a spark to light up in his dark brown eyes…

“It’s not like her to miss the opportunity.”

Dragging my eyes up from the mug clutched tight in my hands, I meet Minji’s gaze with blurred eyes. “You..” I inhale shakily, clenching my jaw. “You knew.”

Her doe eyes widen, “I—”

“You fucking knew and chose not to say anything!” I explode, not realizing I’ve stood up until I blink, seeing her curled up form cornered against the wall through my red vision. Salty tears steadily streaming down my cheeks. The knocked over coffee mug rolling around it’s spilled contents dripping from the tabletop barely stopping right before toppling over the edge.

“You covered for her.” I conclude in a softer voice, the clues of betrayal burning bright behind my retinas. “You knew this entire time. When were you going to tell me, Minji?” She doesn’t dare to lift her head, my questions firing one after the other. “Who else knows, hmm? Your mom? The media? Jihun?”

“N-No.” She quickly shakes her head as I take in her cowering form, helplessly folding in on herself. “Jihun has no idea.”

“Huh.” I smile, not a trace of humor in my tone. “That makes two of us.”

After another moment’s pause, I reach over to pluck a handful of napkins from the dispenser, dropping them carelessly to soak up the mess on the table. “Thank you for telling me, Minji-ssi.” Sparing her a quick glance, I shuffle through my purse for my wallet, taking a minute to remember the exact amount before slapping the money on her side of the table. “Hope you get all that you want out of life.”

“W-Wait.” I pay her quiet call no heed, already pushing my way out of the clear bakery doors; the crisp, early-winter air biting into the skin of my drying cheeks. Looking up at the light grey sky full of wispy clouds, I brush off my shoulders, making a left turn at the end of the street that leads to the heart of downtown. Because now…. Now.

I have bigger fish to fry.

➽➼►♦⇔♦➽➼►♦⇔♦➽➼►

“Chun-hei.” He grins, comfortably reclined in the leather seat.

I smile. “Good morning, Mr. Shue.”

His eyes light up in expectant glee as I take my seat across from him, smoothing out the pants of my black suit. “To what pleasure do I owe to be graced by your presence this fine morning?”

“Just a quick little check in.” Pulling a blue pen from behind my ear, I tuck away a stubborn lock of hair escaping with the motion. “I believe we had some things to discuss?” I arch a brow, polite smile still on while opening my vanilla folder.

“Oh?” His own smile turns into a greasy smirk; the promise of his victory dancing in his eyes. “Well then. Yes, we do. Have you decided yet?”

“Actually,” I drawl, dragging my eyes back to his, “I’d prefer it if you helped me make one.”

As if on cue, Jihun steps into the room with two interns, each one of them carrying stacks of paper while she holds a recorder in her hands. The single flick of her thumb brings a red dot onto the screen.

“You see, Mr. Shue.” Turning my eyes back to him, I take in the panicked look on his face. “A little birdy told me that you have been making deals with Park’s Publishing.” I emphasize, cointining in a way too chirpy tone, “Behind my back.”

He sits there, forehead breaking out in a cold sweat as I gesture for the interns to set the documents on the long wooden meeting table. Spreading them out on the surface. “Now, if I recall.” Plucking a particular stabled stack of papers out of the two piles, I hold it up for him to see, “Your contract states specifically that any such foul play would mean a lawsuit and an immediate termination of contract.” My tone lowers, looking him dead in the eye. “It’s typed in bold print at the top of the first page, Mr. Shue.”

“I-I-” He stammers, clambering out of his seat while pointing a grubby finger, “You have no proof of anything!”

Not phased by his loud display, I calmly hold my hand out to receive the tablet that a third subordinate brings in; a mere three taps revealing a video of the short, stocky man shaking hands with the Director of Park’s Publishing; the title of exchanged documents clear as day in the HD replay. The book we’ve been working on for over half a year to publish.

Letting the tablet go to sleep, I set my gaze on his shaking form once again. “You will be hearing from my lawyer, Mr. Shue.”

He makes his way around the table in a fit of rage, fingers outstretched just for security to enter the room, swiftly hauling him out by his arms. His face redder than I have ever seen as he shouts obscenities at the top of his lungs down the hallway.

I lean back in my seat with a deep sigh, rubbing my temple and closing my eyes.

“You okay?” Jihun’s voice rings, a hand placed on my shoulder. I make an effort to relax, nodding as my eyes open, “Yeah.” One look at her doubtful expression and I know she can see through me. “Can you...cancel the rest of my meetings for today?” Tentatively, I take a glance at the time on my Rolex before meeting her gaze again.

“I can manage,” She murmurs, giving a slow nod at the apprehensive look on my face. “Go. Before the lunch hour traffic hits.”

Sighing shakily, I push away from the table, brushing invisible dust off my clothes while nodding in acknowledgement to my subordinates; swiftly exiting the room. Rolling my stiff neck with a wince. If only that was the last hassle I have to deal with for the day.

The familiar sight of the tall building up ahead causes my heart to squeeze uncomfortably in my chest, but I continue onward; head held high with every click of my heels on the pavement.

“Ms. Kim,” The guard out front nods in acknowledgement, holding the door open for me as I pass by with a brief greeting; my focus drifting to a certain advertisement posted on the far wall of the apartment complex lobby. The model and the makeup artist. My lips curl up, a bitter smile hidden behind the closing doors of the elevator. What a great pair they make indeed.

Slipping into the apartment is simple enough with the spare key in my hand. The tell-tale signs of moans and squeaking bed frames do not phase me at all as I make my way to the bedroom at the end of the hall, throwing the door open with no remorse. Startling the pair tangled within the bedsheets.

“What the fuck-” Her high pitched complaint stops dead in it’s tracks, covers messily clutched to her chest and eyes widened in alarm in wake of my presence.

“Hi Seoyeon.” That polite smile has found its way back to my lips. The curses spewed from the scrambling brunet under her mere background noise. “Just stopping by to tell you I don’t need your key anymore.” I let it fall with a clatter from my hand onto the dresser stationed within arms reach of the door, stuffing it back into my suit pocket.

“C-Chun-hei...” Her tone of voice is pitiful while her face flushes bright red, disbelieving eyes and shaky pupils glistening in the dim light of the disorganized room.

I look down at her with blank eyes, swiftly spinning on my heel, only managing to take two steps towards the front door before faltering. “Oh!” Snapping my fingers, I face them again with a click of my tongue, smiling in mock relief. “Almost forgot. I left your shoes by the door. Can’t have you leaving a $500 worth pair of heels behind, hmm?”

The nonchalant expression on her features despite the mascara streaking down her cheeks is enough of a response. Directing my gaze to Seojun, I shoot him the same pacifying smile, leaving the place just as quietly as I came.

My gaze lowers to the ground while trudging through the deserted streets, hands shoved deep into my pockets in search of some warmth against the bitter cold air. Maybe I should have taken my car amidst gathering the last traces of Seojeon out of my home, but then again, she isn’t worth the gas money.

Wandering mindlessly brings me back to an all too familiar apartment building, the weight of the remaining key within my pocket seems to grow heavier. Urging me to step into the place I’ve walked by countlessly since this morning. Beckoning me back to the man waiting—is he waiting?

My eyes widen, pace quickening as I bypass the person seated at the front desk in favor of catching the elevator before the doors shut. The ride up to the designated floor full of fidgety hands and impatient foot taps. It feels like ten years have passed before I’m inserting the key into the lock, carefully opening the door with bated breath.

“Chunhei!” Baekhyun rushes over as I force myself to calmly slip out of my annoying heels; his brown eyes wide and hair still messy from sleep. “Are you okay? I woke up and you weren’t-”

Fuck it.

Cupping his cheeks, I smash my lips to his, “I’m okay.” I breathe, pulling up briefly for air. “I just…” Looking at his worried filled face makes me pause, heart racing at the raw emotions in his shining orbs. The longer I gaze into his wide brown eyes, the more the bad feelings of the day wash away, “I need you.”

Baekhyun gulps, holding my gaze as my hands slide down his chest. He catches my wrists before I can slip them under the waistband of his jeans, “Are you sure?”

Looking him over again, I nod, gasping when he roughly tugs me into his embrace. He kisses me as if his life depends on it, so many emotions pouring from his lips as I tangle my hand in his hair; swiftly wrapping my legs around his waist when his hands grab onto my ass. He walks us back to the bedroom, lips curling against my own smiling ones and eyes sparkling with promise. 

Maybe.. I want more than the pleasure he gives after all.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 |  Part 4 ✓ |  Part 5 |

One chapter away from completing this story ooommmggg. Thank for reading, sorry for the long wait! I guess today is an angst filled one hehe♡ ♡ have a great weekend!

[jade4813]

Like Moths to a Flame, Chapter 12

Fandom: North and South

Title: Like Moths to a Flame

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: John/Margaret

Synopsis: “I hope you realize that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over.“ Margaret decides to confront John about his unjust judgment of her character, but the two have always been drawn to each other, and things quickly get out of hand. In the aftermath, she agrees to marry him to satisfy propriety, but she cannot forget how ready he was to believe the worst of her. Can love survive without trust, or will the two find a way to work through the misunderstandings that have plagued their relationship from the start?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

John Thornton was not a man prone to vacillation or prevarication, once he had reached a decision. Indeed, his experience indicated that no unpalatable task had ever become more agreeable through the passage of time and procrastination, and so he tended to tackle the most unpleasant of assignments all the quicker, to have them over and done with once and for all. To go back upon a decision, made only upon due contemplation and deliberation, after all the facts were obtained and considered with the gravity each deserved, would be an indignity, an act of dishonor. And for John, the binds of honor, the demands of duty and responsibility, were not theoretical concepts but concrete mandates, which had formed and shamed him into the man he was today. Personal preference and selfish desire didn’t merely take a distant second to the demands of his duty to ensure the happiness and well-being of those around him; they had no bearing upon the matter at all.

And yet, over a month passed, and he could not bring himself to compose the letter that would break his heart, which would separate him from his wife, possibly forever. His attempts to console himself for his action only brought him further frustration, darkening his mood and instilling in him an irascible temperament, prone to snapping at any who drew near. Even his mother, who normally could be assured of safe harbor from even his darkest of moods, had nearly been the recipient of a sharp word or two, had he not bitten them back in the nick of time. Only Margaret was certain to avoid his irritability, as his ill temper did not overcome his concern for her in her grief, or his desire to buffer her from greater unhappiness. With her, he remained gentle, seeking refuge in work when finding himself with uncertain temperament, rather than risk imposing upon her with his foul mood.

He was standing above the mill floor, overseeing the work in progress, when his mother entered the workroom. To his surprise, she didn’t begin her inspection of workers and machines, as was her usual custom. Instead, she tilted her head back to gaze upon him, her jaw set in a stubborn line. She stood still, waiting for him, and he masked his grimace as he headed to the stairs to join her. As was too often the case as of late, he had been disagreeable at breakfast, glowering at his plate and speaking little, and he was certain that her patience was at an end.

He moved to her side, and the two walked in silence to office, so as not to be overheard by the workers. As the door closed behind them, he expected her to take him to task for his behavior, but she remained silent, her gaze expectant. Moving behind his desk, he wasted no time on pleasantries. “I’m sorry, Mother. I know I’ve had a foul temper lately. I’ve no right to take it out on others.”

“Is it the bank loan?” she asked, sounding concerned, rather than accusatory.

He shook his head. Looking away, he explained, “Before he left, Bell suggested he take Margaret to London, to take her mind off her grief. I’ve decided to accept his offer.” He didn’t mention that this determination had been undermined by his inability to put such acceptance into words. Instead, he waited for his mother’s response, certain that she would express unequivocal agreement with this course of action.

To his astonishment, however, his mother said nothing, prompting him to look at her once more. In a quiet voice, she asked, “How long do you intend for her to be away?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Indefinitely.” Only the slightest quirk of her eyebrows betrayed her reaction to this revelation. “I thought you would be overjoyed at this news. I know you disapprove of her.” She glanced away with a scowl, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve disappointed you,” he remarked in mild surprise, having never drawn his mother’s disfavor before.

Her eyes darted back to his, and she stepped around the desk, reaching for him. As he sank into his chair, she cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Never,” she swore fiercely. “No mother has more cause for pride than I. But all your life, you have looked after others. The workers. Fanny. And don’t think I don’t see all that you’ve done for me. Your bride is the first thing you’ve ever truly wanted for yourself alone, and now you intend to send her away?”

“She doesn’t love me!” he protested miserably. “How can I demand she remain, when I know it will only bring her misery?”

“How is she to realize her love for you from London?” she argued, holding him in place when he would have drawn away. As though the words were torn from her chest, relinquished only with reluctance, she continued, “Margaret is proud. And vain. And I cannot pretend to love her for it.” There was the slightest moment of hesitation before she acknowledged in a dry tone, “But she is not alone in either, and she has as much right to both as any Thornton, I suppose. Sometimes pride makes it hard to recognize love, even when it’s truly felt.”

At this, he did pull away, yanking out of her grasp as he stood and stepped past her, not wanting to hear her words when he could not believe in them. She, however, refused to relinquish the point. “She cares for you, John. Whether or not either of you see it.”

He stormed to the other side of the room, keeping his back to his mother so she wouldn’t see the pain on his face. “Believe me when I say that isn’t true,” he snapped. “And I won’t keep her here against her will, when her heart would wish her elsewhere!”

“She agreed to marry you, to build a life here in Milton, and she’s never been one to do anything she didn’t wish to do. Do you trust her judgment so little, to think she’d be happier to be sent away?” He froze, the words tearing at him. He hadn’t asked her, having overheard enough to know of her regret. Was his mother right? Was there a chance Margaret would prefer to remain in Milton, for all the pain that it had brought her? As though recognizing his indecision, his mother urged him, “You mustn’t send her away. It won’t make either of you happy.”

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice when she slipped out of his office to return to her duties on the mill floor. Instead, he remained where he was, cast into self-doubt by his mother’s words, uncertain that his present course of action was the right one.

He was still in his office a short time later, when there was a light knock on the door. He lifted his head from his musings just as it swung open and rose to his feet when Margaret stepped inside, a mug in her hand. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she told him in greeting, with a soft, uncertain smile. “I was down to see Mary in the kitchens and thought you might be thirsty.” He made no move to reach for the mug, and so she admitted, “That was my excuse, at any rate. If you want to know the truth, I just wanted to see you.”

As he often did in her presence, he felt himself slip into a more agreeable frame of mind. Tilting his head to the side, he chided her gently, “You need no excuse to come see me, Margaret.”

“Perhaps not,” she agreed with a relieved smile, stepping toward him. “But you’ve been working so hard, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“I haven’t meant to neglect you,” he offered in apology, longing to draw her into his arms but not allowing himself the pleasure. He was still painfully conscious of her grief and his intentions, which left him uncertain of his reception. His mother’s words haunted him, daring him to broach the subject of Margaret’s departure. Knowing it likely that she would be excited at the prospect of leaving Milton. And him.

She shook her head, her eyes contemplative as he stepped around his desk to relieve her of the mug she carried. “You’ve been preoccupied, worried about more than the state of the mill.” When he looked at her in surprise, she explained, “You’re my husband now. I think I’m coming to understand you a little, at least.” She paused and then added, “I was hoping you would talk to me.”

He nodded slowly, recognizing the fruitlessness of evasion, even if it wasn’t against his nature to make the attempt. Unable to look at her as he continued, he busied himself by moving some papers aside on his desk to make room for the mug she had brought him. “It’s true, I’ve had a great deal on my mind,” he began. “This business at the mill is taking up much of my time. I’ve been wondering if you might not prefer to be in London.”

“Oh!” Her soft cry of surprise and consternation compelled his attention once more, though she looked away from him under the weight of his regard. Choosing her words with great deliberation, she replied, “I suppose…if you think it best…I would like to see my cousin again. I could write to her today. How long of a visit should I suggest?”

When he didn’t reply immediately, she returned her gaze to his. “Oh,” she breathed again, as a dawning comprehension overtook her features. “I didn’t – you weren’t suggesting a visit. You intend to send me away.” He winced as the words hit her mark, unable to argue against the truth of them, even though the starkness of her statement was more terrible than the idea had sounded in his mind.

Afraid she might misunderstand, he tried to explain, “Milton has brought you little joy. I thought you might be happier in London than you’ve been here.”

Her temper rising, she crossed her arms across her chest, her face flushed with emotion. “Is your suggestion meant to ensure my happiness or your own?” Before he could reply, she continued, “I knew my mind when I took you for a husband. I thought we understood each other! I didn’t realize that you thought you were buying a bride you could send away the moment she became inconvenient for you!”

It was not the first time she had accused him of mercenary intent, and he felt his hands shake as he stalked toward her. “You say you thought we understood each other, but you still think so little of me, that I can only think of buying and selling because I’m in trade!” he spat.

Unlike so many others, his Margaret did not recoil from his fit of temper. Then again, she never had, neither flinching nor backing away as she demanded, “What else am I to think, when you’re so willing to send me away like some – some bale of cotton that has displeased you?” She pressed forward, offering him no mercy. “I wondered if honor might not be a sufficient comfort, and you might not come to regret your proposal one day. I didn’t realize it would happen so soon!”

Her words tore through him, flaming his anger with the injustice in her accusation. Straightening, he looked down his nose at her as he growled, “You’re mistaken. I’m not the one who regrets our marriage, Margaret. It isn’t my desire I seek to satisfy in sending you to London but your own.”

Her countenance, once flushed with her ire, rearranged into an expression of irritable confusion. “I don’t know what you mean. I have no—”

He was ready to explain about the conversation he had overheard, until a knock at the door interrupted them. Clutching his hands into fists at his side, he spun to face the offending intruder, barking a loud, “Enter!”

The door opened to reveal Nicholas Higgins on the other side, his expression calm and placid, although he must have heard the raised voices from his position in the hall. “Beggin’ your pardon, but there’s a problem with one of the machines.”

“I’ll be there shortly—” John began, but Margaret, her color still high with the force of her emotion, spoke over him.

“No, it’s all right. I’ll go. You have work, and I’d hate to inconvenience the Master of Marlborough Mills.”

Nicholas quirked an eyebrow slightly at this parting shot, but his face betrayed no other thoughts as she stormed past him, striding quickly into the hall. As her skirt disappeared around the corner and the rapid sound of her footfalls faded, John picked up the mug she’d brought him and hurled it against the wall, feeling no satisfaction when it landed with a loud crack and tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents upon the floor. It was perhaps possible that he could have handled that entire situation worse than he had, but he couldn’t at present imagine how.

Several hours later, he returned to the house, physically exhausted from his strenuous day, and emotionally spent from his earlier argument with his wife. With an early appointment looming in the morning, he knew he should hurry to bed, to catch what sleep he may. However, he found himself lingering downstairs, seeking consolation in the bottom of a glass of stronger spirits than he usually indulged. He barely tasted the first glass of the amber liquid as he tossed it back in a single swallow before pouring himself another, this time intending to savor the fiery liquid.

With a fierce yank, he untied his cravat, leaving the rumpled fabric looped around his neck as he shrugged out of his coat, tossing it aside. Then, rolling up his sleeves, he paced before the fire, his thoughts giving him no peace. Bracing one hand upon the mantle, he bowed his head, taking another sip of his drink as he stared at the dying embers with sightless eyes.

He remained that way for he knew not how long, until sound behind him that drew his attention. He knew what he would find before he even turned, finding to find Margaret in the doorway. Her feet were bare, toes curling into the carpet, her night-rail providing scant protection from the cool night air. Seeing her shiver, he reached for the coat he’d discarded on the back of a chair and stepped forward to wrap it around her shoulders before stepping back to give her space. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, the words sounding inane, even to his own ears.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied in a soft voice. “I was waiting for you.”

“Forgive me. I meant to return sooner.” He didn’t know how to reach her, how to breach this great divide that had grown between them. A divide of his own making, he feared.

She rocked back and forth on her heels, but she didn’t approach, pulling the folds of his coat tightly around her body. “Do you truly wish to send me away, John?” Unable to answer, he turned away. “Will we never come to understand each other?”

They never would, until they could find the strength and courage that honesty required. There were so many things left unsaid between them. Perhaps it was time for him to set aside his pride and bring those secrets into the light. What had he to lose? He could not fear her hatred, when he had never had her love. “No. I don’t wish you to leave,” he admitted. “I could never truly wish for that.”

He heard her move closer, felt the gentle pressure of her hand upon his arm, but he did not turn. He didn’t want her to see his shame. “Then why are you sending me away?”

“The mill will likely close soon. We’ll lose this house. I made you a promise, when you agreed to be my wife, and I didn’t want you to see how I’ve failed you.”

She let out a sharp cry, increasing the pressure of her hand until he turned toward her, although his face remained averted. She reached to touch him, moving closer when he flinched away. “You haven’t failed me. Do you think I haven’t seen how you’ve tried to care for your workers? How hard you’ve tried? Whatever happens with the mill, you’re a good man, John Thornton. I didn’t see that when I first came to this place, but I do now. I’m proud to have you as my husband. Don’t you see that?”

He didn’t see, but he wanted to believe it. She was kind, as she had been so often to those around her, and he wanted to throw himself upon her mercy, to beg her to pretend to feel what she had once sworn she could not. To offer him the kindness of a lie, and let him believe that he might one day win her heart.

He wanted to tell her that he knew he had been a fool, pushing her away time after time, even as he wished for nothing more than to hold her close. No one had it in their power to hurt him as she did. For her good opinion, he would face rioters, intent upon his destruction. He loved her as he had never loved another, and yet he created distance between them, in a vain attempt to protect a heart that was no longer his alone.

He should reassure her of his faith in her, which he had once sworn had been lost. There was nothing for which he could deride her – save, perhaps, for choosing him when she deserved so much better than the life he could offer her. She deserved to be cossetted and protected, to live a life of comfort and joy, unmarred by deprivation and want. For her skin to be caressed by hands that had never seen a day’s work, their touch soft and gentle.

John’s hands were rough. He was hard, coarse. He had struggled as a child and would struggle again, once the mill had closed and his family was left in dire straits as they had been so many years before. He couldn’t indulge Margaret as she deserved; he couldn’t promise her a future without care. It wouldn’t be long before the bank loan came due and he lost the comfortable home he had spent a lifetime building for his family. He would find himself cast down from his position of Master of the Mills to the bottom, to claw and scrape and grab for the lowest rung of the ladder, intending to scale it rung by rung in the hopes he might one day find himself at the top once more. Meanwhile, Margaret would be left with nothing but calloused hands from hard work that her gentle upbringing had never prepared her to undertake, and with the necessity to scrimp and fret from one meal to the next.

He should tell her that he believed in her – in her kindness and her compassion. In her integrity and faithfulness. She had never taken a lover before him, but he hoped that she had once loved another, though the idea pained him – to know, even for a short while, what it felt like to bask in the adoration of one more deserving of her than he. Although John would swear that nobody in the world could love her as he loved her; nobody else could cherish either her heart or her spirit as he did.

There were many things that he should say, now that he had sworn to lay himself bare before her, but the words swelled in his chest, jumbling together on his tongue until they tangled and knotted, and he didn’t know which thread to pull at to set them free. There was only her name, a benediction upon his lips. “Margaret.” He grabbed her hand, drawing her near, missing the warmth and the feel of her, his mouth hot against hers as he wrapped her in his arms.

As it often tended to do, he was surprised by her passion, by the readiness with which she reached for him. His coat fell to the floor, forgotten, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body flush against this own. She whispered his name as he lifted her, her night-rail falling open, her shift hitching around her waist as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He should carry her upstairs, to the privacy of their bedchamber. They could be interrupted at any time, caught by a servant in search of something to eat in the middle of the night, or finishing up on a task left undone. But he had not held his wife like this for far too long, and the taste of her lips and scent of her skin was intoxicating, filling his senses and driving away all reason. Reaching out one hand, he stumbled forward until his palm struck the wall, her body making a loud thud that shook the painting on the wall as it followed.

He began to apologize, but she laughed, finding delight in their passion, her hands grabbing at his shirt, his shoulders, his hair. Her lips chasing after his kiss as she tossed his discarded cravat aside. “We should stop,” he breathed, even as he pressed his lips against the curve of her neck. “The servants—”

But Margaret wasn’t in the mood to be agreeable, and she taunted him with a roll of her hips, rather than acquiesce to his suggestion. He groaned when he felt her against him, even through the fabric of his trousers, and she threw her head back, exposing soft, smooth skin to the dim light cast by the dying embers in the fireplace and the moonlight spilling through the windows. Bowing his head, he caressed her breast his mouth, wetting the fabric with his tongue as he drew the nipple between his teeth.

“The servants—” he tried once more, his voice muffled by fabric and skin, but she slipped her hand beneath his shirt, caressing the muscles of his chest, and shook her head at his protest.

“Everyone’s asleep,” she reassured him. “Don’t stop. I need you. I-I’ve missed you.”

In the darkness and with their haste, their movements were clumsy and awkward as he fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, pulling himself free. Sliding one hand between her thighs, he could feel that she was wet and ready for him, her breath coming in tight gasps as he slid two fingers inside of her, teasing her sensitive nub with his thumb.

Tomorrow, he would chastise himself for taking her so roughly against their drawing room wall, his need for her overwhelming all sense and the fear of discovery. Rather than making love to her with sweet words in a soft bed, as gentle ladies such as she had been raised to expect. But she would offer him no similar recriminations, to be sure, her exultant cries muffled by his lips and cheek, the only thing preventing them from echoing through the empty room.

Questing fingers swept into his hair, brushing it back from his face, and he reached for her hand, pinning it against the wall beside her head. She demanded nothing from him this night, but there was one thing he needed from her, his longing so deep that his heart ached with it.

“Tell me you love me,” he growled, demanding and pleading in equal measure. “Just for tonight, let me pretend.”

Her laughter died on her lips, her eyes growing wide, and he feared for a moment that he had spoiled the mood, that she would balk and push him away. He was gratified when she whispered, “I do love you.” It was a lie, but she was kind, and he was willing to let himself pretend to believe it, and so he let out a long sigh, his eyes closing as the joy of those four words washed over him.

Beneath him, Margaret squirmed, her movements growing more insistent, even frantic, as she clutched at his shoulders, his neck, his face. “John, please! I love you! I do! You must believe me!”

A groan rumbled through his chest as though torn from his very soul, and he pressed his face against the curve of her neck, savoring the weight of her words and her willingness to utter such a lie for his sake. She was kind, and he was willing to let himself believe.

“Look at me,” she begged him, her voice catching as he thrust inside her. “Look at me!” But he could not – dared not – in case he saw the truth of her feelings in her face. Instead, he crushed his lips against hers, swallowing her soft sounds of desire as he slid his hand between her thighs and stroked her until she came undone in his arms.

Her pleasure was still washing over her when he thrust into her again, rocking her body against the wall behind her. “Tell me you love me,” he demanded once more in a low voice, his lips against her ear, the strength of his need deepening his voice and the harsh, Northern burr of his accent. She shook her head, her breath escaping in a soft sob, but he increased the pace of his thrusts as he repeated his demand. “Please.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck pressing his cheek against hers as he drove into her again. A moment later, he felt a cool dampness against his skin and was surprised to realize it had come from her, a tear spilling over her lashes and sliding down the gentle curve of his face until it became trapped between them. It was almost enough to compel him to stop and draw away, except she tightened her legs around his hips and would not release him.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear, driving him on.

He savored those words, committing them to his heart, a treasured memory that could never be taken from him, not even with the truth in the harsh light of day. Wrapping his hands under her thighs, he repositioned her, steadying her weight as he drove into her again and again until his own pleasure washed over him.

He pressed his mouth against the curve of her shoulder as he poured himself into her, feeling his muscles tremble with the strength of his release. Only when he was spent, his senses slowly returning, did he put her back on her feet, turning his head to capture her mouth in a kiss, swallowing the lie she had graciously bestowed upon him.

She deserved to hear the truth, although she must know it by now already, given his shameless request. “I love you, Margaret,” he breathed against her lips. “I have never loved another.”

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: You Going to Todd’s? (Brick/Blossom)

My Powerpufftober fic! Still rocking the high school AU for this, so consider it a part 5 to the Shooketh, Not Stirred series. As always, can be read alone, but happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom go on a Halloween scavenger hunt. It sucks.

xxx

Blossom checked her watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. It was already a quarter past 9 p.m., her Frankentini was going flat in its plastic neon martini glass, and she was starting to regret coming to Todd’s overhyped Halloween party at all.

“Oh, hey Blossom,” said Harry Pitt, ferrying three bright glasses of the same watered down mixed drink Blossom was too preoccupied to enjoy. “You hanging out?”

Blossom smiled politely. “Hi, Harry. Just waiting for someone.”

Harry’s extra padded shoulders slumped in his pinstripe mafia boss costume. “Oh, let me guess.”

Blossom frowned, a reply on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it when precisely at that moment, Brick stormed through the front door like he was running from a zombie horde and desperate for a weapon. Todd himself spread his arms with a “What, your hairdresser keep you late?” and was almost mowed down with a cursory “Shut up, Todd.” Curiously, Brick made a beeline for the unpopulated second floor. He didn’t even see the other high school Seniors who barely dodged his path. Todd grimaced in his fake vampire fangs and chugged the rest of his beer. “Cool, catch up with you later, bruh!” he said, but no one was listening.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Blossom didn’t have time to feel bad about Harry’s dejected sigh as she ditched her drink and followed Brick upstairs. The Spotify Halloween playlist booming in the speakers faded to a low bass din as Blossom rounded the corner in the upstairs hallway. “Brick?” she called, a little annoyed.

No text, no call. He could have at least told her he’d be late so she could have timed her arrival better. With a mouthful of grievances and a heart full of him, she pushed open the lighted bathroom door at the end of the dark hall. “Brick, did you hear me calling—”

A fluttery and spine-chilling laugh slithered past the crack in the door and sank into her flesh like a snake bite. It arrested her where she stood halfway over the threshold, shackled in the throes of a very specific terror she could never forget.

Brick stood at the pedestal sink, his fingers attempting to fuse with the porcelain as he gripped it hard enough to crack and stared with manic focus at the mirror. All around them, the lyrical voice reverberated:

“Poor, angry boy, there’s yet no end to your suffering! For this next task, I want you on your knees groveling. Hide your tears And sharpen your shears— To save your brothers, make me a true offering.”

Brick snarled at his reflection, as if his demon might appear there in the mirror to throttle. But there was only him in the glass, furious and frothing under his red hoodie. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

It took only a moment for Blossom to shake her stupor as instinct and training took over. “Brick,” she said, crossing the small bathroom to touch him.

Red eyes narrowed at her approach until the moment he recognized her beneath her smeared costume lipstick and dark eyeliner. “Blossom?” he rasped. His surprise made sense when she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror. Crop tops, fake bloodstains, and fishnets weren’t her normal style, but in a parallel nightmare universe perhaps they could have been.

The blushing eighteen-year-old boy in him went straight for her midriff, but his distress stayed his hand. “Fuck.” He rubbed his eyes.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Nothing, just— Let me get in there.” He reached around her to pull open one of the drawers next to the sink in search of something.

“It’s not nothing.”

He didn’t answer as shut the drawer and checked the one below it.

“Brick, hey. You could have called me—”

With a snarl, he slammed the drawer closed and glared at her. “I was a little busy.”

“Talking to Him?” Blossom held his glare like a hand grenade with her thumb through the pin, ready to pull. “I’d never forget that repulsive lilt. Tell me what’s going on.”

He chickened out of answering her and dove for the drawers on the other side of the sink, where he found what he’d been looking for. Blossom barely had time to question the large scissors he’d pulled out before his hood was down and his man bun toppled into the sink with all the finality of a guillotined head.

Blossom gasped. “Brick!”

Somber as a corpse, he fished out his shorn bundle of hair from the sink, and Blossom watched as it burst into flame in his palm. Smoke curled through his fingers and rose high above them in an angry, red miasma. Its stink was saccharine and brought tears to Blossom’s eyes.

And then, it moved. In swirling, bloody tendrils, it slithered through the cracks above the bathroom door and down the hall as though it had a destination in mind.

“Oh, shit.” Brick dashed after it, and Blossom dashed after him down the stairs. His hand was hot in hers when she caught it and yanked him back. The split second in which their eyes met was an eon of understanding, bone-deep and cauldron-brewed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked like he needed a friend.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“Blossom,” he tried to argue.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Blossom, hey babe, wanna flip some cups on my team?” Todd sidled up to Blossom with a stack of solo cups. Then he noticed Brick’s serrated haircut. “Buddy, what the shit happened to your hair?”

“Please go away,” Blossom said at the same time as Brick said, “Choke on my dick.”

She grimaced at Brick’s vulgarity, but Todd took a step back. Before he could snap back, he noticed the red smoke wafting through his house out the open window. “Oh shit, fire?”

“There’s a fire?!” someone else exclaimed, and panic ensued.

Blossom was about to intervene when Brick snatched her hand and dragged out the front door. “Where did it go?” he said, squinting in the dark.

Blossom swallowed her instinct to calm down her fellow partygoers (there was no fire, they’d be fine, surely…) and looked around for the demonic smoke. “There! It’s heading east.” She rose into the air to fly after it, but paused when she noticed Brick hadn’t followed her. Instead, he jogged down Todd’s cul-de-sac toward the main road. “What are you—hey!”

She landed on the ground in front of him, cutting off his dash. He tried to go around her, but she easily blocked him. It was like he wasn’t even trying to move past her, unless…

“You’re powerless,” she said.

That was the wrong thing to say. “It’s just a temporary setback,” he said in the same choke-on-my-dick tone he usually reserved for Todd.

When he tried to get around Blossom again, she put her booted foot down and cracked the asphalt. He didn’t try to pass her again. “I’m not going to ask you again.” Then, more gently: “Please, let me help you.”

The last of Brick’s petulant pride dissolved to ashes just like his ruined hair she knew he loved, and yet he’d viciously cut it off anyway. Hesitant, yet stubbornly determined, he held her gaze. “It’s Him. He’s fucking with me. Sapped my powers and said my brothers and I will pay the ultimate price unless I solve this idiotic scavenger hunt by midnight.”

“…Wow.”

“Yeah, so it’s not like I have much of a choice.”

Blossom cupped his cheek. His chopped hair was not a total disaster, but it needed cleaning up. All that time he’d spent growing it out again…

Brick sucked in a sharp breath at her tender touch. He was as rigid as a pole, gritting his teeth hard enough to shatter. Blossom’s gaze hardened, and an old but fierce fire ignited in her Super-powered veins. “We’ll beat Him’s game. I promise you. Nothing’s going to happen to you or your brothers.”

Brick let his eyes fall closed as he touched his hand to hers, and that was probably the most intimacy she was going to get out of him in the middle of a murder-y scavenger hunt on Halloween. Maybe after they booted Him back to whatever pit he’d been living in all these years she could salvage what should have been a fun, romantic date with her sort-of boyfriend.

Blossom cleared her throat. “So, evil limericks?”

Brick just groaned from the bottom of his tortured soul. He took her hand and led the way after the demonic smoke before they could lose its trail. The smoke led them to Townsville High School a few blocks from Todd’s, specifically to the annual haunted house experience the Senior class spearheaded every year. Plenty of students dressed in their ghoulish finery crowded in the lawn socializing and lining up to take a turn through the haunted house.

Bubbles was on duty as part of the social committee in charge of managing the exhibit. When she spotted Brick and Blossom headed for the cafeteria door that had been transformed into the haunted house’s black-curtained foyer, she bounced over to them. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you guys here tonight! I thought you were going to Todd’s. Wait, Brick, did you cut your hair?”

“It’s a long story,” Blossom said.

“Whoa! Slow down. You can’t go inside without a costume.” Bubbles blocked Brick’s single-minded steamroll inside after the last of the curling, red smoke slithered past.

“Bubbles, move,” Brick spat.

“No way. You can be a party pooper at Todd’s all you like, but you’re not bringing any of that into my super scary haunted house that I spent all day decorating.”

“I swear to god—”

“Bubbles, do you have any eye liner?” Blossom interrupted before Brick could say something to her sister she would make him regret for the rest of his life.

Bubbles, dressed in glam trash Powerpunk solidarity with her sisters for the night in fishnets and glitter, grinned as she dug in the pockets of her spider web-patterned black tutu. “Great idea, Blossom! C’mere, you.”

“What—hey!” Brick was literally powerless to stop Bubbles from manhandling him into a quick makeover. “There, it’s purr-fect!”

Despite the possibility of Brick’s gruesome end by satanic evisceration looming at the end of the night, Blossom could not help but laugh at the cute nose and whiskers that transformed Brick from grumpy boy to grumpy cat.

The flash on Bubbles’ phone went off.

“Hey!” Brick was redder in the face than his ruined hair.

Bubbles preened as she easily danced out of Brick’s reach before he could nab her phone and delete the evidence. “You look so cute!”

Brick turned to Blossom as his final saving grace, but there were tears in her eyes as she tried to pull herself together. “I’m so sorry, but she’s totally right. You look very cute right now.”

“Fuck this,” he grumbled, bright as a tomato as he shoved past a floating Bubbles and stormed inside the haunted house.

“Oh no—Brick, wait!” Blossom tried to tone down her giggles as she ran after him. “Bubbles, come on, this is actually serious.”

The sisters headed inside to a spooky banshee screams playlist past Ms. Keane’s bubbling cauldron and the football team zombified in a cardboard graveyard, until finally Mr. Green welcomed them to the final stop with a frightful flourish. “Step on up, boys and girls. See your future, if you dare. Mwahahahaha!”

Brick took one look at the over-eager demon teacher and tried to leave. “Maybe I should just let Him kill me while I have some dignity left.”

Blossom caught up to him and slipped her hand in his before he could turn back. The sobering reminder of why they were even here sent a chill all the way to her fingers, and she squeezed his hand in what she hoped was reassurance. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“What’s going on?” Bubbles asked, peering around Blossom’s shoulder.

But Blossom was too preoccupied by the unnatural red smoke swirling around the final, purple-draped room and its sole occupant: Robin Snyder in a truly rocking dead fortune teller costume. “Come in, come in! Let the spirits foretell your Halloween future!”

Bubbles giggled and skipped inside. She planted a very loud, very adorable kiss on Robin’s head.

“Bubbles, what’re you doing in here? You’re supposed to be on welcome duty!” Robin complained, but she reached for Bubbles’ hand and pulled her down into the chair next to her.

“I wanted to see you, obviously!”

Brick’s hand in Blossom’s squeezed uncomfortably tight, and she soon realized why: the red smoke had descended upon the ouija board set up on Robin’s table and absorbed inside it. Bubbles and Robin did not seem to notice it at all.

“All right, let’s get this shit over with,” Brick said, taking one of the empty seats across the table.

“Wow, such enthusiasm,” Robin said flatly.

Blossom took a seat next to Brick and asked their costumed host, “How does this work?”

“It’s a séance. We’ll ask the spirits what we want to know, and the board will do the rest. Everybody put a hand on the planchette.”

The moment everyone’s hands touched the plastic planchette, red smoke bubbled up from beneath it and swirled around them. In a panic, Robin tried to pull away, but found that she couldn’t. Everyone’s hands were stuck to the planchette.

“What—” Bubbles sputtered, but Him’s cotton candy creep show voice slithered from the smoke and stole her breath:

“This clue is not for the fainthearted: Unearth your next destination uncharted. Absent any confession, To the board pose your question And divine who among you just farted!”

“What the hell was that?!” Robin said at the same time as Bubbles wailed, “Oh nooooo!”

Before Blossom could respond to Robin’s very reasonable question, her arm was yanked across the board still stuck to the planchette: “B”.

Brick’s smoky cat-eyes were wide and slightly manic as he looked at Blossom, and she looked at him. She flushed so badly that she nearly swallowed her own tongue to say, “It wasn’t me!”

“Well, it sure as shit wasn’t me,” he shot back. And then, understanding dawning, they both looked across the table.

“Bubbles?” Blossom said.

“I DON’T WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME ANYMORE!” she screeched.

“Bubbles definitely farted,” Brick deadpanned. He dragged the planchette and everyone’s hands still stuck to it toward the “U” and then back to the “B” until the board spelled out Bubbles’ name. As soon as the planchette settled on the “S”, it released everyone’s hands in time for the heady, red smoke to engulf the board entirely.

Bubbles, distraught, shot out of her chair and covered her eyes in shame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Robin tried to coax her back down from the high corner she’d flown to. “Come on down from there—Bubbles, really, I can’t even smell anything!”

“You’re just saying that because you love me!” Bubbles complained.

“Oh my god,” Blossom said, too preoccupied with the board to worry about her sister’s mortification. “Is that—”

“A map of the city?” Brick finished her sentence.

The ouija board was transformed into a mini map of Townsville, if a preschooler had drawn it in crayon.

“Here we are at THS.” Blossom pointed her finger to a collection of buildings scribbled in blue crayon. “And here…” She followed a crosshatch path to the edge of the map where a horned, red, devil face sticker grinned up at her. “The cemetery.”

Brick stood up so fast his chair fell over. He stood there for half a second, his face screwed up, and then: “Goddamnit!”

He’d forgotten he couldn’t fly.

“I can carry you.” Blossom held out her hand.

“Is everything okay in here? Robin, the next group is waiting.” Mr. Green poked his horned head through the thick drapes and sniffled. “Ew, what’s that smell?”

“Oh my god!” Bubbles turned beet red and disappeared in a flash of blue, knocking down the rest of the chairs and Brick too, if Blossom hadn’t caught his elbow before he could break his nose on the tiled floor.

“Bubbles! Sorry, Mr. Green.” Robin dashed after her.

“Wait just a minute—”

In the chaos, Blossom let Brick slip out of her grip, and he stormed out the opposite door back outside.  

“What are you doing?” Blossom asked when he stopped at the sidewalk.

“Calling a Lyft.”

“I just said I can fly us both.”

“Hard pass.”

Blossom crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong with it? Flying would be faster, and it’s free.”

“I’m not letting you carry me like some damsel in distress.”

“Honestly, Brick. There’s a demon threatening to kill you and you’re worried about your masculinity?”

“No, I mean—look, this isn’t your problem, okay?”

“You did not just say that to me.”

He scowled so deeply that it should have given her pause, but the painted whiskers somewhat ruined his menace. He clenched his phone hard enough to crack if he’d still had his powers. “I didn’t mean it like I don’t want you here.”

Blossom materialized inches from his face in an unnecessary display of power that nonetheless felt fantastic. “That’s better.”

Brick flushed, but not from anger. When she slipped her hand over his, he eased his grip and relinquished his abused phone.

“That’s better,” she said again, more honey than venom this time.

Like hell was she going to send him off to his possible doom alone, powerless and with a really bad haircut painted like a cat.

“Blossom, I’m—”

Her kiss shut him up, and with it any further excuses to go it alone. And despite his increasingly desperate situation, he kissed her back like he’d never get the chance to again.

A car horn honked. “Hey, are you Brick?” asked an older guy in a Honda Civic with a fuzzy, pink mustache attached to the front bumper.

Brick very briefly broke their make-out session to reply, “No,” and then tightened his arms around Blossom’s waist and got right back to it.

The Lyft driver squinted between the profile picture on his phone and Brick. “Wait, really?”

“Never heard of the guy,” he mumbled against her lips, proving that if she wanted to get something done, she’d have to do it herself.

Blossom rolled her eyes and removed his hands from her. Before he could do anything about it, she hoisted him onto her back and hooked her arms under his knees. “Come on, let’s go thwart your imminent murder.”

The Lyft driver watched them take off in a blur of pink. “Goddamn teenagers.”

He canceled the Lyft order and left Brick a one star rating, which was probably fair.

xxx

When Blossom touched down near the entrance to the graveyard, it was back to business. “How much time do we have?”

Brick checked his phone. “About an hour and a half.”

She jogged to keep up with his longer stride as they made their way deeper into the graveyard. “Okay, that’s plenty of time to figure this out.”

A peal of laughter stopped them in their tracks on the gravel path for the split second it took them both to recognize that particular manic cadence.

“Butch,” Blossom said at the same time as Brick said, “Motherfucker.”

Beyond a small hill near the base of a huge oak tree, Brick’s brothers, Buttercup, and Mike Believe sat among the granite tombstones with a pillowcase full of candy passing a joint around. Buttercup had just blown a smoke ring in the shape of a star.

“Bitch, I’m too stoned for this fucking tongue witchcraft,” Butch said. He made an appropriately chilling sight all in black with his face painted black and white in the design of a skull.

“Hey, can you blow a heart?” Boomer asked.

“You sap.” But Buttercup took another drag and hopped off the tombstone she’d been sitting on. Moonlight glinted off the spikes on her black leather jacket as she reeled back and blew three perfect, concentric hearts from her red-painted lips.

Boomer sat up from his place under Mike’s arm and snapped a picture on his phone. “You officially have the greatest special power out of all of us, no contest.”

Mike laughed and accepted the joint when Buttercup passed it to him. “I’m gonna have to agree with that one.”

“That’s because you’re one hundred percent whipped,” Butch said.

Mike shrugged. “Eh.”

“Buttercup.” Blossom approached her sister. “You’re smoking here? What if someone catches you?”

“Somebody just did,” Boomer said under his breath.

“Damn, Blossom, you girls doing a three-way theme tonight?” Butch slipped off the tombstone he’d been draped over to admire her fishnets and then Buttercup’s matching set. “I like it.”

“Give me that.” Brick took the joint from Mike and snuffed it out under his foot.

“Whoa, whoa,” Mike said. He stood up, and at his full height in a 1920s-style adventurer’s costume, he was a Sight™ to behold, if Blossom was being completely honest.

“Brick, what’s the matter?” Boomer peered around Mike in his homemade mummy costume. “And why the hell are you wearing cat makeup?”

“Oh shit, he is,” Buttercup said with a snort.

Before Brick could lose his temper, Blossom said, “Brick, the clue. We don’t have all night.”

“What clue?” Boomer asked. He peered at them seriously. “What’re you two doing here, anyway?”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to Todd’s,” Mike said.

“Todd’s parties blow,” Buttercup said.

Blossom ignored them. “Something about unearthing a destination uncharted. What could it mean…?”

Brick made for quite the adorable pensive cat as he considered. He seemed to come to the answer at the same time as Blossom.

“No,” Blossom said. “There’s no way.”

“We’re going to have to,” Brick said. “What else could it mean?”

“It’s extremely illegal.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fucking cursed!”

“We can’t dig up a bunch of graves!”

“Wow, so that’s what that creepy limerick meant?” Robin approached the group with Bubbles looking windblown and totally ready to get her hands dirty digging up some goddamned graves.

“Bubbles,” Blossom said. “Look, I’m sorry about before—”

“This is Him’s doing,” Bubbles said flatly. “I recognized the voice when I calmed down and we followed you here. Just tell me what the plan is.”

“Did you say Him?” Boomer said soberly.

Buttercup put her hands up. “Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

Brick pulled down his hoodie and revealed his ridiculous haircut. “This is what the fuck’s going on.”

Boomer looked close to tears at the sight of Brick’s mangled hair.

“Him cursed Brick, and we have to solve a scavenger hunt before midnight or he and his brothers will pay the ultimate price,” Blossom said.

“The ultimate price?” Mike said, aghast.

“What the fuck.” Butch advanced on Brick. “What bullshit did you get us into this time—”

Blossom materialized in between Brick and Butch before the latter could carry out whatever violence he intended. She tapped him hard on the chest, and he stumbled back, probably too stoned to hold his normal balance against her Super strength. “Not today, Butch. Him took Brick’s powers.”

“Shit,” Boomer said. Blue sparks jumped in between his toilet paper-wrapped fists. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

Blossom looked to Brick, who was clearly outnumbered and they both knew it. With a groan, he ran his hands through what was left of his poor hair. “We’ll split up,” he said.

“And do what?” Buttercup said.

“Somewhere here, there’s bound to be a clue left by Him. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but it’s all we’ve got right now,” Blossom said. “Split up and cover as much ground as possible.”

“And what are we looking for?” Robin asked.

“Red smoke, demonic laughter, a general feeling of imminent disembowelment,” Brick said.

Bubbles cracked her knuckles and tightened her pigtails. “The usual, then.”

“Fuckin’ right.” Butch began to crackle with pent up green power.

With four other Supers plus Mike and Robin helping cover ground, Blossom hoped they could at least glean some inkling of what Him’s last clue meant. She stayed with Brick since he didn’t have his powers anymore, and together they wandered deeper into the graveyard. Lampposts along the gravel path cast a saturnine glow amidst the trees, fey and eerie on this most eerie of nights.

“Blossom,” Brick said softly. “If we don’t figure this out before midnight—”

“We will,” Blossom said.

He stopped, and Blossom turned to look back at him. Even powerless, there was a presence in his red eyes, beyond mortal and brimming with fire. Even as enemies, even when she couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as him, she had recognized that counterpoint in him, that tranquil confidence that there was nothing in this world he couldn’t overcome. It was a part of him and no one, not even Him, could take it away.

“But if we don’t,” he pressed.

Blossom’s throat wrenched to see him so calm. Not much scared Brick, not truly, but his softness spoke volumes here where only ghosts could hear them. Go, his eyes entreated her, forget about me and go before it gets you too.

She marched up to him and placed her hand on his chest. Ice froze her breath to mist as her anger clawed its way out of her, and she let him see it. “Then Hell will tremble to watch me drag you back out.”

Brick said nothing. He slipped his hand over hers and curled his fingers. Even now, he was far warmer than anyone she had ever known, and she clung to that certainty.

“Come on,” Blossom said, pulling him along after her. “Let’s solve this so we can go home.”

They followed the floating lamp lights east. Fog gathered at their feet, heavy and strange, but Brick held her hand, and secretly she was grateful not to be alone in such a creepy place. When a laughter they both wished they didn’t recognize reached them on the wind, Blossom’s heart leaped into her throat and she took off running with Brick hot on her heels.

The cachinnation petered out when they came across a man in a grey uniform and hat with a flashlight. “Hey, what’re you kids doing here?”

“We were just—” Blossom began.

“Enough,” Brick said, stepping forward. He put an arm out to block Blossom’s path. “I know it’s you.”

“Brick,” Blossom said.

“Son, I don’t know what you mean,” the graveyard worker said.

Brick ignored him. “I played your shitty game. This is the end. Stop hiding behind that pathetic mask and show yourself.”

The portly graveyard worker dropped his flashlight with a heavy crunch on the gravel. Watery, blue eyes bled to baleful red, and his pasty cheeks stretched to accommodate a smile far too wide for his human face. A low chuckle built deep in his chest like termites in a kicked mound, bubbling up through his throat to bursting.

“H͓̼̯ḭ̠̣d͜i̞᷊̯᷂͜n̨͇͟g̤̱͓,̼͎ a̮m̱̪̫͚͢ I̤̜̗?̨̞ T̨̳̻̜h͚̟̖̜͢a͖̻̠̜͇t̨̹ s͖i̹ṃp̨̟͈͕͢ļy̢͔͜ w̨̱o͈̜̟̠͟n̹̮̖’̳̝t̮ d̪̟̪̝o̹̠.͕̫̙̩”

The booming, sinister voice came from that mouth full of teeth, but it seemed to grow out of Blossom’s bones. She felt it in her lungs, her fingertips, as a tingle on her lips Brick had kissed. And she remembered he was vulnerable, under attack by this very thing standing before them now masquerading in a meat sack.

Well, screw that.

Blossom lowered Brick’s wrist and stepped around him. No matter how hard he pushed against her, he was no match for her power—power she leaked now like gasoline fumes hungry for a spark. The gravel at her feet froze, and her eyes faded to ghastly pink as she faced her childhood nightmare. “Hello, demon,” she said.

“Y̹o̬͟u̢̡̳.”

The lampposts flickered and popped, plunging the earthly ossuary into chilling shadows, but Blossom did not fear the cold. Her fists frosted over as she clenched them, and her step summoned an ice floe in the gravel that bridged the crevasse between her and the coward who dared to haunt Brick and his brothers on her watch.

“Well?” she said. “I’m waiting.”

His meat sack shrank back. This was no child Him was taunting, but a fully realized Super who was no longer afraid of his mind games. He closed that heinous mouth and cleared his throat with a dainty, sausage-fingered hand over his heart, and recited in Him’s more lyrical pitch:

“You’ve served all night at my gracious pleasure. Now the final test to determine your true measure: Find the lady who slumbers In her crypt sunk in umber. X marks the location of my precious treasure.”

No sooner had Him given them their last absurd clue than the graveyard worker seized and fell to his knees. Blossom dashed to catch him before he could injure himself. The man coughed and wheezed as if he’d held his breath for too long.

“What in tarnation…?” he muttered, dazed.

“Sir, you had a dizzy spell. You’re all right now,” Blossom said, clinically calm as she discreetly checked him for signs of blood or other wounds. She found none. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“Who… Hey, you kids shouldn’t be here!”

Brick growled and grabbed Blossom’s elbow to haul her back up. “Let’s go.”

“Take it easy, sir,” Blossom said, and let Brick drag her along before the man could think to call security on them.

When they were out of earshot, Brick whirled on her like he was about to get scary, but she held up a hand for silence.

“Before you get mad, I was just trying to—”

His kiss was not as unexpected as she once may have thought it would be. Feverish, frantic, like a boy about to die in twenty-odd minutes, sure, but not unexpected. “Fuck, Blossom,” he panted when they parted for a breath.

Blossom’s heart swelled at his raw emotion on full display, as rare as it was true, and she almost lost herself in it. But they had work yet to do. She tucked his too-long bangs behind his ear.

“So, a lady who slumbers,” she said. “I’m guessing it’s a special statue.”

“A crypt sunk in umber,” Brick said, licking his lips. “A mausoleum, maybe.”

“That narrows it down, for sure. Must be older if it’s sinking.”

“I saw a map of the cemetery at the entrance.”

Blossom grinned and put her fist in the air. She fired a pink blaster that lit up the night sky and would summon their siblings soon. “Let’s check it out.”

He didn’t complain this time when she carried him on her back for a speedy trip back to the entrance and a quick check of the map. There were four mausoleums in the cemetery.

“Found something, Leader Girl?” Buttercup, Butch, Bubbles, and Robin were the first to catch up to the Reds, and Blossom filled them in just as Boomer returned with Mike.

“Four mausoleums? Sounds like we need to split up again,” Mike said.

“If you find anything, send a signal,” Brick said.

Chance. Brick’s and his brothers’ lives were up to the one-in-four chance that they would find the right crypt. All around them, Him’s lollipop laughter followed them like a demented poltergeist.

“This isn’t it!” Brick slammed a fist against the innermost tomb in their chosen mausoleum. “There’s nothing here.”

Blossom was about to respond to that when a bright, blue spark crackled in the air. Boomer and Mike had found something. “Hurry!”

The mausoleum Boomer and Mike had picked was guarded by a lichen-infested statue of a woman with angel wings in a bed of grassless, brown soil, so dark it could have been umber in daylight. Bubbles, Robin, and the Greens arrived soon after Blossom and Brick charged inside.

“Check it out.” Boomer indicated the innermost tomb carved with two crossed sabers.

“X marks the spot,” Mike said grimly. “Oh crap, it’s almost midnight!”

“Move!” Brick tried to push the crypt open, but it was too heavy for him, so Blossom helped. The heavy stone slab groaned when she pushed it, and a plume of foul, red smoke burst from the opening.

Him’s maniacal laughter rose with the smoke that swirled on the domed ceiling and opened two glowing eyes and a cheshire smile. “My my, cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

Bubbles shoved her phone at the unholy miasma. “It’s midnight! We beat your stupid deadline, see?”

“Bubbles, please don’t antagonize the ancient evil,” Robin whispered nervously.

“Technically, Blossom met the deadline since Brick was too weak to open the tomb,” Him crooned.

“You took my powers!” Brick said.

Him’s sinister smile fell. “Oh…did I? My bad. Here you go.”

The red smoke converged on Brick and passed through him with the force of a sword through the gut, and he collapsed to his knees in a circle of fire, gagging. Bubbles and Boomer were lightning fast as they swept Robin and Mike as far away from the conflagration as possible.

“Butch, shield!” Blossom commanded, and Buttercup shoved him so hard he tripped and crashed against his own hastily-erected shield bubble. It contained the explosion of power well enough to keep the mausoleum standing.

“Tsk tsk tsk, this won’t do. All I wanted was to play a little father-son game with you, and you had to drag your girlfriend into it. Parenting is so hard these days. I’ll just have to teach you boys a lesson.”

Blossom’s heart twisted. If Him was truly serious about killing Brick and his brothers, he would have to go through her first.

“Like hell,” Buttercup spat, her fists glowing green.

Brick got to his feet groggily. He looked like he just survived a bad case of seasickness.

Him burst out laughing. “Choice words, Buttercup. Now boys, time to pay the ultimate price!”

The tomb lid slid to the ground on unseen forces, revealing the horror within. Blossom readied her pink blasters, and her sisters did the same. Brick took one look in there and recoiled. “What the fuck—”

When no hellspawn burst from the tomb to attack, Blossom approached and peered over the edge. Inside were hundreds of polaroids of young children in dresses with their hair styled as they posed like Victorian paintings. Blossom reached for one.

Buttercup burst out laughing. “Holy shit, is this you?!” She had two polaroids in her hands as she flapped them in Butch’s face.

“Give me those!” Butch snarled.

“Wow,” Robin said, torn between hysteria and horror as she gawked at a picture of six-year-old Butch with bunny clips in his hair wearing a frilly white dress. “Wait until my therapist hears about this.”

In the picture Blossom had selected, Brick’s hair was expertly braided over his shoulder as he sat on a stone throne surrounded by candelabras and horned skulls in a flowing, white dress. He did not look happy to be there. He looked even less happy to behold this childhood shame years later.

“I burned those,” he said in a voice from beyond the grave to no one in particular.

“I made copies!” Him sang. “And now, all of Townsville will get to see you in your pageantry finest!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Butch screeched as Buttercup took off flying with a fistful of polaroids laughing her ass off. “Get back here!”

“You know, I think I look pretty cute in these, actually,” Boomer said.

Mike laughed. “Yeah, you totally do.”

“This is what you meant by paying the ultimate price?” Blossom asked the incorporeal demon head floating above them.

Him grinned. “Why, of course. Oh! You didn’t think I would murder my own sons, did you?”

The sinister glint in those yellow eyes told a very different story, one that may have ended poorly if she hadn’t forced Brick to involve her in whatever was going on.

Or maybe Him was just bored of his perpetual existence in a hellish void where a cute photoshoot with his re-spawned Super sons was the most exciting thing that had happened in a millennium, and he was feeling nostalgic.

The tomb erupted in flames all of a sudden when Brick breathed fire over all the polaroids.

Bubbles gasped. “Brick! Those were a work of art, how could you?!”

Brick glared at her with glowing, red eyes. “We’re never speaking of this again. Give me those.” He snatched the photos Robin was holding and burned them too.

Blossom hastily pocketed the picture she’d nabbed of baby Brick before he could notice.

Him disappeared in a swirl of smoke and laughter. “Happy Halloween! Remember to brush your teeth…”

“I can’t believe I came all the way here for this,” Robin said. “Literally, the weirdest shit is always happening to you guys. Can we just have a normal Halloween, like, one time? Just once?”

Boomer laughed. “Tall order, Robin.”

A loud explosion outside told Blossom the Greens’ fighting was going too far, as usual.

“Brick? What’re you doing?” Blossom asked as she and the others followed him outside.

“Helping Butch destroy the evidence your sister stole.” He took off in a blaze of red.

“What a killjoy,” Bubbles pouted.

Blossom bit her lip and revealed her pilfered polaroid. Bubbles’ smile turned downright sinister as she greedily snatched it. “Blossom, I love you.”

“That’s for emergencies only. I mean it, or he’ll kill me.”

Boomer threw an arm around her shoulders and grinned. “Nah, he’d never turn on his girlfriend.”

Bubbles gasped. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!”

Blossom flushed. “But we’re not exactly—”

“Him said it, so it’s gotta be official by now,” Boomer teased.

“Ooh, true. There’s nothing more official than a primordial force of chaos acknowledging your relationship status,” Mike said.

“Hey, you damn kids! You’re not supposed to be here!” shouted the no-longer-possessed groundskeeper from before. He had a shovel that he shook at Brick, Butch, and Buttercup locked in a game of cat and mouse as the brothers tried to reclaim the evidence of their dignity.

“Time to go,” Blossom said.

“Hey, party at Todd’s?” Mike asked.

“Great idea!” Bubbles chirped as she gave Robin a leg up onto her back.

As Blossom found herself back at the same party where she’d begun the night on the sofa next to Buttercup regaling everyone who would listen with the story of Butch’s child beauty pageant past (sans evidence because Brick had managed to burn it, unfortunately), she found her gaze drawn back to Brick. He was up getting them drinks, his haircut cleaned up thanks to Boomer, snickering at something Mike had said.

“Blossom, where are you going?” Bubbles asked when she got up.

“Just going to talk to Brick,” she said. “Officially.”

Bubbles lit up and grabbed the nearest hand to crush her feelings into, which happened to be Butch’s. “What the—ow, woman, let go!”

Brick saw her coming and stared at her growing smile like the baffled teenager he was underneath it all. With all their friends’ eyes on her, she walked right up to him and kissed him in front of everyone.

Let them see, she thought. Let anyone who was watching and biding their time to strike see, and let them try.

Lyrical laughter echoed somewhere on the edges of hearing over their friends’ laudatory cheers and loud calls for celebratory shots, but Blossom tuned it out as she smiled into her kiss.  

xxx

Like Boomer, I am a sap who loves a happy ending. Reds are finally official in this AU?! Took us long enough. Also, I always saw Him as this weird dichotomy of ancient murder-y evil and chaotic good mom. I feel like trolling the Boys would be a favorite past time of his. Might write more Him in the future and explore that more.

Happy Halloween y’all. Get spooky, and stay safe!