Yakuza just keeps getting more and more light hearted it’s really a long story of people looking at there situation and going bye 👋 by the way what’s the darkest Yakuza game in your opinion?

yakuza keeps getting more and more light hearted last game had babies in lockers and there's an entire city designated for dumping bodies

Grey's Anatomy: Living in a House Divided (18x10)

I feel so much unreasonable anger over being forced to watch parts of this show I don't care about lol. This is a me problem.

Cons:

Meredith's boyfriend Nick... okay I caved and payed attention to his name finally... he's just So Boring. They're really playing this up as this romance that we're supposed to feel connected to/happy with... we see him meeting Amelia and Maggie for the first time, and they're all interested in Meredith's new relationship, and Nick is confessing deep feeling for Meredith and wanting them to stay with each other more. And the whole time I'm just yawning at the screen. Especially aggravating because we saw Hayes for like two seconds this episode, and his moment where he talks about how much Meredith meant to him in handling his grief over his wife was more electric and powerful than anything Nick has ever provided. Sorry, dude, but you're boring.

I guess having relationship drama with Teddy and Owen that's about medical stuff is more interesting than the usual roundabout they're always on, but since I still dislike both of these characters quite a lot, I'm not really enthused about having to follow this plot thread. Teddy spends the episode desperately trying to figure out what Owen is up to, what he confessed to Hayes in the car. She talks to Owen, to Hayes, to Megan about it, and finally sees one of Owen's patients' wives in the room with him, and follows her out to Owen's car to confront her about what she's just taken from there. So now we're at the point of no return, Teddy about to discover what's happening... and again, I'm just not at all here for it. Boring and annoying all at once.

Link and Jo are gross. So they have sex, and Jo has feelings, and we waste a rare Carina DeLuca sighting on this show, having her give Jo relationship advice that she needs to tell the guy her feelings, or stop sleeping with him... yeah, thanks, never would have figured that one out... Jo decides to cut things off with Link before she can get hurt, and Link seems totally cool with that because he doesn't have feelings for her. I'm just annoyed with them, the whole concept is irritating to me, I wish it wasn't happening. What else can I say.

Pros:

I've got to say, I'm here for the Levi angst, the Webber Method drama... all of this stuff has been a highlight for me in these first few episodes back from hiatus. I love the complexity of the question at hand. So many different people with opinions that I can understand. Richard's defensiveness makes sense. Bailey's confusion and ambivalence makes sense. Maggie's anger and grief makes sense. Schmitt completely having a breakdown makes sense. Helm feeling a lot of guilt also makes sense. We're really seeing how this tragedy is creating ripple effects throughout the whole cast of characters.

I like that Catherine is defensive of backing Richard up, but then later tells Bailey that it's up to her to shut down the program if she wants to. And Bailey telling Richard she wants to end the Webber Method, and Richard agreeing to that because he's worked through his feelings on the subject already with his pseudo-daughters, was quite lovely. He admits that he used Catherine to get what he wanted, going over Bailey's head, and that he shouldn't have done that.

I like that Maggie and Meredith were both briefly the object of Richard's ire as he's resentful of them for not having been around a lot recently, and not backing him up in his moment of distress. But they have a good talk with him and work things out quickly, which I also appreciate.

Helm and Bailey's conversation was another highlight for me. I like Helm, she doesn't get a lot of time on the show but she has little moments that make her shine.

And then of course there's Levi, who shows up to the M&M conference but rushes out very quickly. We see him later at his mother's place, as Nico comes to look for him and is promptly dumped and sent away. Like I said, I'm kind of loving the angst here, because I think it's a good opportunity to see these characters grow from the ashes.

We also had a shining moment for another of the new docs: Zander, who gets to chastise Link for dismissing a patient's pain due to her weight. I like how Bailey took down Link's protestations efficiently without going on a big rant about it, just explained to him succinctly why BMI was a bad system for making predictive suggestions in health care. And Zander got to shine especially when he said "fat people already know they're fat". That rang so true to me. I've been told I need to exercise more by physicians who haven't even asked me how much I am exercising. They look at me and make their judgments, and it sucks!

And since I'm so anti Link and Jo, and anti Teddy and Owen in general, that's about all I've got to say for this episode. I want the characters I like to be safe and happy eventually, and I want to not have to watch Link and Jo kiss ever again thanks so much.

7/10

Fever Pitch - Part 1.

Eek! So I’m back! This WIP has been sitting in my files for so long and I finally found the groove to finish and post it! I hope you guys enjoy it!

I anticipate this to be a two-part story, set between the ethics hearing and Ethan returning from the Amazon, it’s your much-loved angst fest that we all know I love writing!

Shoutout to the absolute wonderful @drethanramslay, who helped me get this over the line with her contributions, I’d so lost without you and everyone else who is always so wonderful and supportive.

(also, if you want to be taken off my taglist, just holla)

Anyway! Please be kind (heh) and I hope you enjoy!

WARNING! One swear word, plenty of angst.

This is a Ethan x F!MC story (Lorelei Stannaway).

The scuffing of Lorelei’s slippers bounced off the walls of the eerily quiet hallways of Edenbrook; at 2am, the graveyard shift had well and truly taken a hold of the otherwise bustling precinct. The nurses had dimmed the hallway lights and quietened the machines in an attempt to keep their patients asleep, the on-call doctors all retired to their offices, many closed doors accompanied with the glow of light illuminating the bottoms of them as she walked past.

Whilst the hospital was quiet at this time of night Lorelei’s mind was racing, and her dilemma so loud inside her head, it was almost debilitating. Before she realised, she was face first with the office door labelled: Dr Ethan Ramsey, and after taking a steadying breath of air, she entered the room. She glanced up to see Ethan with his back to her, leant over his desk taking a phone call, yet her vision quickly blurred his form out, as she noticed the bookcase behind his desk, usually filled with journals, accolades and framed certificates was now bare, the grained wood now a stark and confronting brown that took her very much by surprise.

“Wow…okay. You sure don’t waste anytime” Lorelei scoffed, the words sounding much more immature than she had initially anticipated, spilling from her mouth before she could even register that it had happened. She couldn’t back down now, she had initiated the battle and she was determined not to lose it.

Ethan sighed loudly, “Naveen, can I call you back? … Yes, I know. I already know. Naveen! I get it. I will. Why you’re even here at the hospital when you should be home resting is beyond me, go home.” He chastised the older man before ending the phone call and glancing across defeatedly at the woman before him.

“Really, Lorelei? We’re still here?” he bit back “please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, Rori. They need me, I want to be there and help. Surely you can understand that?” he reasoned, turning his back on her once more to continue packing, a silent indication that it was no longer up for discussion.

Lorelei’s blood boiled at his silent gesture.

“Ethan…” her voice was calm, controlled and laced with promised absolute as she stared at the back of his head, although her eyes resembled that of a tumultuous storm, her heart was racing and her breathing erratic – she was petrified of what could possibly eventuate tonight. Lorelei knew she had his undivided attention now; she could tell by the increased heaving of Ethan’s shoulders with each breath he took that he was waiting for what was about to follow.

“Ethan, if you leave here and get on that plane. If you leave this country, this hospital… Ethan, in a time that I really need you the most, if you leave me…” she paused, preparing herself to say the next words and willing herself strong enough to follow through on them “I won’t be here when you get back”.

That was it, her last-ditch effort to persuade him to stay. She was out of options and yet felt so very ashamed of how disreputable she had become through sheer desperation. She knew her attempts were feeble however, nor did they serve any purpose, for Ethan had checked out long before she could have convinced him otherwise, and that was what destroyed her the most.

Ethan visibly bristled as he registered her words, and slowly, he could feel himself becoming indignant at her ultimatum. He stood and weighed the reality of her words with his back to her for what felt like a lifetime before he eventually spoke, his voice barely above a whisper “you don’t mean that… “ he replied, though he was doubtful, and he knew the waver in his voice betrayed him.

“Then why are you so eager to test its credibility?” she whispered back, too afraid to speak louder in fear of her voice breaking, tears threatened at her eyes, warm and prickly, as she tried to blink them back. Instead they cascaded down her cheeks in silence as she wiped angrily at her face.

Ethan leant heavily against his desk and hung his head, as though it was the only thing capable of withstanding the weight currently crushing him “what do you want me to say?” he sighed exasperatedly “that I’m sorry? That it isn’t beneficial for my career and I should just stay in order to keep you happy? Lorelei, this isn’t going to be some happy ending for us, I’ve already told you how I feel…” he broke off, carefully measuring the next words in his mind, acutely aware of the damage they will do, but knowing that they’re very much mutual  “…you’re getting too attached. If I don’t leave now, Lorelei, you’ll only suffer, longing for something I’ll never be able to give you. At the end of the day, I’m doing this for you.”

“I’m sorry what?!” Lorelei raised her voice incredulously, her eyebrow cocked as she felt the confusion and anger bubble in the pit of her stomach, seeping into every crevice of her being and consuming her, removing all rational thought from her mind “Jesus Christ, Ethan! Could you be a man and at least turn around and look me in the eyes if you’re going to break my heart?!”.

Ethan’s fear got the better of him as he exploded at her provoking and accusatory tone, implying that breaking her heart was his main priority, without realising, his sub conscious projected him into panic mode as he became reactive and emotional “I said I’m doing this for you!!” his voice quickly reaching the same volume as hers as he whipped his body around to look at her, his eyes glowed with a burning intensity, a silent warning for her to back down.

“Oh for fuck sake, E! That’s bullshit and you know it!” she rebutted, fresh hot tears spilling down her face yet her voice not betraying her this time “you don’t get to make those decisions for me!”

“I am not doing this right no-“

“Then when, Ethan? In six hours when you’re on the way to the airport? In nine when you’re on the plane? When will we do this because I don’t know about you, but I don’t think there’s much time left to do anything!”

Ethan looked at her in desperation, eyes filled with so much pain and angst, his ocean blues were now stormy greys, as he pushed himself off the desk and toward the door.

Desperation reaching fever pitch as she followed him out the doors and into the hallway “Ethan! Where are you going?!” her legs struggling to keep up with his strides as she followed him to the elevators, he stared forward, not once wavering or hazarding a glance at her in fear of his resolve crumbling.

The loud ping of the elevator doors opening reverberated throughout the otherwise silent hallway, Ethan stepped inside and turned around, not quite managing to meet her eyes “please… don’t follow me. It isn’t forever, Rori. I’ll be back soon and by the time that happens, you would have gotten over your ridiculous crush and we can both move on and do our jobs” his heart shattering as the words left his mouth, as he finally looked up and locked eyes with her as she stood there, bewildered, speechless and rooted to the ground. A sob choked in the back of her throat as she noticed the tears welling in Ethan’s eyes, reflecting her own.

“stay” she quietly pleaded “because if you don’t, I won’t. If you leave, I can assure you I won’t be here when you get back.” her final warning hung heavy in the air between them as Ethan assessed her face for any sign of relent.

“You’re being unreasonable”.

“the feeling is mutual”.

The pair stood either side of the elevator doors, not once breaking eye contact as they each waited for the other to surrender, yet neither having any intention of doing so. As the doors slid shut on Ethan’s broken-hearted face and carried him away, Lorelei was left staring at the harsh metal, a stark reminder of the metaphorical wall that Ethan had so meticulously placed between them, and continued to leave up.

She stayed rooted to the spot, bowing her head as the warm tears began falling hard and fast down her face again, and the sob she had been keeping in finally escaped.

“Lorelei…” a warm, gentle voice cooed down the hallway, as she turned to see Naveen approaching her “my sweet girl, come. Let’s go sit down” he shushed as he collected her in his arms and rubbed her shoulder empathetically “it isn’t forever” he reassured.

“he just... he just left Naveen? What if he never comes back? What if he stays there and we never see him again?” she spoke aloud, her mind racing.

“He’ll be back, Dear. If I’m positive of nothing else, it’s that he won’t be able to stay away for too long, not from you anyway” he smiled a warm and knowing smile at the young doctor, as he gently led her back towards his office.  

Taglist: @ethandaddyramsey @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @mvalentine @beloved-ode @kaavyaethanramsey @newcolonies @missmiimiie @nooruleman @drethanramslay @agent-breakdance @angela8756 @utterlyinevitable @maurine07 @professorkingslay 

Ex-friends

Hi friends, I am back. Today, I will be recounting the delightfully folksy tale of a friend, or shall I say, ex-friend, since I found out that she blocked me on whatsapp and Instagram. But, I quite deserve this treatment, for I blocked her on whatsapp (not Instagram), first.

This was a very close friend of mine whom I got to know through a class in uni. We hit it off pretty well and had kept in contact until a couple of months ago. Previously, sometime last year, she had gone MIA for around half a year and I didn’t expect her to get in touch with me. After she resurfaced, she then told me that something had happened in her workplace, which got her and her colleagues into a bit of a pickle. Her coworkers became incensed by the incident and blamed her for it. She was very down in the dumps and unhappy during that time and didn’t want to go to anyone for help. So, I forgave her for not keeping in touch, even though I texted her and asked her how she was, to no reply.

She told me that since then she had been going through a rough patch in her job. Her colleagues were hating on her and her boss was demanding and unreasonable. And so, like the typical INFJ that I am, I tried to make her feel better about herself. For the past half a year, we would text frequently, where I would listen to her long rants about her mentors in the workplace and her boss’ unreasonableness. She was convinced that she should change jobs. I was trying to be a good friend and be supportative about her situation. She told me she was applying for masters as well to support her job change, but was clueless as to which masters program she would like to apply to, naming 5-6 completely unrelated fields of study which she was supposedly all interested in. Fair enough. She also expressed her anxiety and doubts and not being able to get a new job or get into any of the programs. Since I had also gone through a time like that, when I doubted myself constantly, I thought that I should be a nice friend and be really encouraging. We had many chats which lasted from 9pm till 3am where I played the role of friend, counsellor and therapist. I tried hard in those long chats to convince her that she was good enough for the new roles she was about to take on. When she insisted that she wasn’t good enough, and I was trying hard to persuade her otherwise. During these chats, I would also update her on my current situation, my work and my upcoming masters.

However, one fine day, she texted me that she had decided on a masters program that was completely unrelated to the ones we had discussed. “That’s fantastic news! Congratulations!”, I texted back, while feeling slightly dumbfounded as to how she came to her decision. Apparently, she did not consider any one of the many options that I suggested during our long convos. Which is cool, fine if you don’t want to take my advice. But, I mean, I did sacrifice a considerable amount of time thinking up all sorts of options, so I felt it would only be polite to explain why she had refused my suggestions. She then told me that suddenly, after everything that happened, everything was fine at her job and she was not going to quit. What on Earth? She then asked whether I had been accepted to a masters program, which masters program I had been accepted to and when my program was going to start. I was completely flabbergasted. Didn’t I mention those in our many many many conversations? Apparently, it seems that she had forgotten all of our conversations! No matter, I thought. She then went on to ask what my current role is in my company. Hello? What? Again, I patiently texted her back to explain what my role was. And she was like “But is this all that you are doing right now? That is not enough because surely, you could do much more???”, as if she was holding an intervention for my poor life choices. Oh, the irony. At this point, I was completely shocked and outraged. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that my many months of painstakingly writing/speaking to her and encouraging her would yield a “Get your s*** together, you underperforming slacker.” Honestly, her words felt like a slap in my face.

Hiding my outrage, I sent a nice message reminding her that I would be sad if she did not remember our conversations. In my experience, confronting someone about something hurtful they did almost never works out well, so I decided to be the pacifist. She did not seem to sense my anger, maybe because she was too busy celebrating her achievements to notice, as evidenced by her carefree messages after that peppered with lots of lighthearted happy emojis. But behind the screen, I was seething in anger, and I decided that I had to do something about my anger. I thought back to all those moments where I was being encouraging and supportive only to be met with derision and arrogance, and I was livid. And so, I blocked her on whatsapp. Because I no longer wish to receive messages of her rants or complaints or her wish to chat to “ask for advice” in the middle of night and get annoyed all over again. I mean, she doesn’t listen to me anyway so might as well not text/chat at all. 

Weeks later, I unblocked her on whatsapp only to find her display photo blanked out. Also, I tried to search for her on Instagram and her account could not be found (I didn’t block her on insta). So, I guessed someone blocked me. It hurts, definitely, but I think I deserve it, because I blocked her first.

And also, good riddance. :)

The moral of the story is, there are some people out there who are really self-absorbed. Yes, they expect you to listen to their problems and counsel them and be all supportive when they are down. But when they have got their life sorted out, they’ll get on their high horse and look down at you -- the friend who helped them to get their life back together in the first place. And in conclusion, if you meet those people, RUN, as far as possible and as quick as you can.  

I swear sometimes my life seems like a Netflix series with drama at every corner.

P.S. This was the person who told me that being a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) was a disease and that I needed to “see a doctor” and get it treated. 

P.P.S. Is this an INFJ thing??

ethan ramsey x mc fanfic - “dirty pig”

pt. 2 of the ethan ramsey x mc fanfic “I love you no matter how you look. From the beginning, I was attracted to you. Not your appearance”

⚠️ warning: talk about fat shaming, sexual harassment, sexism, misogyny

Tag list:

@drethanramslay @sekizincimektup @ethandaddyramsey @openheart12 @noboundariesplease @caseyvalentineramsey @kaavyaethanramsey (tell me if you want to be added or removed!)

Thank you guys so much for the support! I am glad how much the last fanfic meant for a lot of you🥺

————

The weeks got by quickly. Ever since Ethan had confessed his love for Casey, her brain was only occupied by him. And his by her. It would not be nearly enough to only say thoughts, as every intention, action and dream screamed “Casey! Ethan! Together!” in both of their brains.

It could not be explained exactly how they got through the diagnostic team meetings, interaction with patients and medical staff without sounding and looking completely dumbfounded - but they did, amazingly enough. Only twice did someone comment suspiciously. June had to ask Ethan a question four times before he finally could focus and give her only an mildly adequate answer. Casey giggled, well knowing of the look in his eyes - all it screamed was “Casey”.

Casey was pouring Jackie a cup of coffee in their apartment, being so unfocused on the coffee, since she tried her very best at remaining cool whilst her roommates’ conversation was about Ethan. “Casey! What are you doing?” Jackie yelled as Casey accidentally poured coffee all the way down Jackie’s wrist. “Are you immobile?”

“What? Sorry!”

Now it’s important to state that Ethan and Casey never slept together after their talk, nor did they simply kiss or share any other romantic interactions. Although, his love was confessed and Casey wanted answers.

Casey looked at the door with his name on it for quite a while. Casey, you have to act now. People will think you are paralyzed. She thought and therefore quickly grapped the door handle. Ethan was standing with his arms crossed, looking sternly at a man in his mid-forties.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Eth- Dr. Ramsey”

Ethan looked annoyed at Casey but his gaze quickly softened.

“It’s fine, Dr. Valentine. Dr. Talbot was just about to go”

Ethan waved his hand at the middle aged man and gestured towards the door. The man looked mockingly at Casey and snorted.

“Are you serious, woman? We are having a conversation. Get your ass out”

Ethans jaw tightened, but kept his cool.

“Well Dr. Talbot. Or, now Mr. Talbot I guess. You have received your punishment from Dr. Banerji, I frankly don’t understand why you came to me in the first place.”

Casey swifted uncomfortably on her feet, realizing which man she had met. Dr. Talbot was fired by Naveen, since a patient had reported sexual harassment against him. After that, several of the nurses and a few of the interns also came forward with sexual harassment allegations against him. He was currently on trial, and therefore finding the circumstances of his firing unreasonable - he was now asking Ethan if it could be reduced to suspension, since he wasn’t proved guilty yet. Naveen couldn’t be persuaded into doing it, so Dr. Talbot instead went after Ethan - thinking he would be on his side.

“Well.. Dr. Ramsey. I can’t imagine that you haven’t.. a few times.. made some mistakes, y’know? Mistakes like thinking some women would appreciate some attention, I mean.. they usually do. And then they just blow up with all this sexu-“

Ethans face welled up with so much anger and disgust as he interrupted Mr. Talbot, making Casey able to feel his revulsion.

“No. Mr. Talbot. And don’t you dare make your actions sound like small mistakes. It clearly is a pattern of yours, being extremely misogynistic, disgusting and overly inappropriate. And if you think every man in power is misusing his power and privilege to do such vile actions, you are wrong. Very. Wrong.”

Ethan grapped his arm and shoved him towards the door, making Mr. Talbot pass Casey on his way out.

“Go. And if I see you around here I promise I will fucking punch you.”

Mr. Talbot looked suprised at Ethan, and stopped right beside Casey. He gave Ethan a smirk as he swifted his attention to Casey.

“I see. You are putting on your feminist for this little thing.” He looked at Casey and let his eyes rest on her chest, but continued to her stomach. Casey felt her hairs on her neck rise as she uncomfortably hugged her torso and looked down in the floor.

“Or. Not little. Are you banging this fattie, huh Ethan?”

Mr. Talbot let out a chuckle and looked up at Ethan again. Just as Ethan have had enough.

It was like a little switch inside Ethans brain got turned on. Unfortunately for Mr. Talbot, it was the switch-of-protection-for-Casey. It was only one, but a very tough and quick punch directed right in the middle of Mr. Talbot’s face. Swuush. Continued by a loud bang as he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

“Argh!”

Ethan retreated, coughed and straighted his tie as he opened his mouth.

“And that was for fat shaming.” Ethan bend his knees so he was in eyesight with the fallen man.

“Want one more? You deserve a hell of a lot more for what you’ve put the other women through”

Mr. Talbot finally realized the much taller doctor’s intimidating glance.

“I.. n..no. Dr. Ramsey. I..” he got on his feet “I’m sorry” Ethan also stood up, crossing his arms.

“You are sorry?”

Ethan mockingly snorted and looked to the side, his jaw clenching once more.

“Don’t apologize to me. I can’t use it for shit. Apologize to Dr. Valentine. And after that, you can get the fuck out of this hospital and write apology emails to the other victims. I don’t think they want to see a dirty pig like you again”

Ethan took a step closer to Mr. Talbot and looked intimidatingly down at him.

“I know I won’t”

“I... I’m sorry Casey” Mr. Talbot stuttered and looked scared at Casey.

“Well.” Casey just realized how she had been almost completely silent throughout the whole interaction. She was baffled with Mr. Talbots behavior, but still relentlessly falling more and more in love with Ethan. What felt like just the other day, he was being supportive and body-loving, which made her feel comfortable around him - even though she still was working on her insecurities, it was delightful to know how he felt. She knew she didn’t need his validation, but how his views were, made her able to focus on herself.

Now he had literally punched a guy for her, because - of not only fat-shaming, but also because of his views on misogyny, sexism and the #metoo movement. Ethan was a feminist, and she would lie if it wasn’t attractive as fuck.

“Well. To you Mr. Talbot, it’s Dr. Valentine. I am an educated doctor, y’know. Just like Dr. Ramsey. Only my close friends can call me Casey. Thank you for protecting me, Dr. Ramsey. But I would like to say something myself”

Ethan smirked and looked annoyed at Mr. Talbot as he coughed uncomfortably. “Of course. Sorry Dr.”

“Promise me that you won’t ever do this again. And I will put in a good word with Dr. Banerji”

Ethans face quickly fell as the smirk turned into a confused glare at Casey. But he kept silent as she continued.

“I want you to beg.”

Mr. Talbot just chuckled but quickly realized she was being serious.

“Oooh. Ok.” He scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth once more. “Please talk to Dr. Banerji for me, everyo-“

“No. This is not working. On one knee”

Casey smiled from ear to ear. Ethan tried to hide his, but knew what she was doing. Mr. Talbot was about to refuse, but got on one knee.

“I.. Please. Everyone deserve a second chance”

He held his hands together and begged.

“Ok. That’s quite enough. You can go, Mr. Talbot”

He glanced once more at Ethan but hastily left the office. Casey closed the door and bursted out with laughter.

“As if I would ever mention him again to anyone.. and to Naveen??? Is he mental???”

Ethan just smiled at her and sat down on his desk.

“You did well. I’m sorry if I was being.. a little..” he was searching for the words “Over-protective? Perhaps? I just.. i’m tired of men like him”

Casey bit her lower lip and let out another of her bright smiles. “No! I.. I appreciate it.”

They locked eyes, feeling relieved and lost in each other’s presence.

“So? Ethan the feminist?”

“Yes. And people - especially other men - like to make jokes about it. I am proud of it.”

“You should be.”

Casey knew why she originally entered his office. To find out more about the love for her, that he had declared. But now she couldn’t. She was loving the moment to much to harm it. Casey was not dumb, and she knew her mentor pretty well. It would get awkward and probably uncomfortable if she mentioned their former talk. She knew he wanted to keep it professional. But.. he already told her that he loved her. Why back down?

“I should.. go to my patient” were Casey able to say.

“Oh. Ok. Yes. You.. uhm. Yes” Ethan stood up and turned his back to her.

Both with unspoken words left behind.

Why Not?

Mary and Suey need to use their words

(Start at the beginning)

*angst; face fucking*

Sometimes you wonder if Mary’s attraction to you stems from the fact that you had no idea who he was when the two of you met at Mickey’s. Sure, there’s some Venn Diagram-like overlap between your crowd and his—but your exploits and his had never touched. You have a few mutual friends-of-friends that everyone always seems to know—but no substantial connections.

Mary’s never made his past sexploits a secret—even if he’s demurred on the gritty details—so you know his other forays into relationships have mostly been from people already in his orbit from the neighborhood or from his “fan” pool.

Basically: all people who already knew his music.

It doesn’t keep you up at night, but occasionally—when there’s a prolonged, awkward silence, or the two of you get into a heated debate that proceeds slammed doors—you can’t help but wonder. It doesn’t help that Mary seems reticent to bring you to shows—big or small. 

And, ok—maybe at first you didn’t really care: everyone and their sister knows a guy who’s “in a band” that never actualizes, and you two are oil and water on your best days, so why invest energy into a band you’re going to be compelled to dislike after the breakup? Once you guys had passed the 3mo mark, however, you knew you had to get serious about it if you wanted to be serious about Mary.

You would have thought it would’ve made Mary happy—you taking a marked interest in his first love—but he’d honestly seemed ambivalent about it. You talking about his songs and asking him questions only seemed to irritate him to no end … so you’d dropped it.

When he’d told you about another Saturday gig—that wasn’t closing Mickey’s—you’d once again offered to come … and he’d been a dick about it, prompting one of your worst fights to date.

“Why do you even wanna be there?” he’d huffed.

“I’m your fucking girlfriend,” you’d retorted.

“So you just want to piss on me and mark your territory, is that it?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I thought I’d support your fucking passion is all.”

“You never cared before.”

“Oh—I’m sorry! Was I supposed to know everything that mattered to you two fucking seconds in?”

“I just think it’s fucking suspect that all of sudden you wanna be around.”

“So the other girlfriends are fine. It’s just me who’s a fame whore?”

“They’re all into the scene.”

“And what the fuck does that mean? I’m not a bandophile so I couldn’t possibly be interested?”

“It means I’m fucking done with that shit. The switching? The bed hopping? If that’s what you want, fucking tell me right now.”

“Where are you even getting this shit from?”

He’d looked you dead in the eyes.

“You have a reputation, Suey.

At first, you hadn’t even understood enough to be insulted.

“For fucking what? I barely follow the local music scene.”

“You think I didn’t ask around about you? The ‘Ice Queen’? Likes to fuck, but will eat you up and spit you out?”

You’d felt hot and cold all at once—your face flushing then draining of color.

“Are you fucking … are you fucking slut shaming me?!” you’d hissed as you’d jabbed a finger at him.

He hadn’t backed down. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder if a girl who’ll fuck anything that moves wouldn’t be looking to take her act elsewhere. The guys might dislike you, but you know they’d never pass up free pussy.”

You’d been trembling with anger at that point and scrubbing tears from your eyes.

“I’ve never … I’ve never hidden the fact that I like to fuck. I can’t believe you with your … your orgies and partner swapping have any fucking thing to say to me about my one-night stands.”

“How do I know you’re not using me for easy access, huh? I can barely even tell if you like me instead of my dick sometimes, and now all of sudden you’re interested in my band?”

You’d screamed and knocked a bowl off your counter, not even caring when the ceramic had shattered into shards.

“I’M SHOWING YOU I LIKE YOU BY BEING INTERESTED IN YOUR FUCKING BAND, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.”

Then you’d grabbed a mug and thrown it in the ground for good measure. It hadn’t shattered, but the handle had broken off. Dissatisfied, you’d turned to your dish rack, but before you could start breaking dishes, Mary had had his arms wound around you.

“Hey, hey … it’s ok. Shh, c’mere.”

You’d screamed again and struggled against him.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Suey, calm down.”

Mary had managed to pick you up slightly, transferring you from the mess in the kitchen area to the living space, where he’d pulled you both down to the floor against the couch. You’d struggled some more, but only in an obligatory sense.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. Fuck,” Mary had breathed.

You’d only wailed in response, tears now flowing freely.

“I didn’t mean … fuck. I don’t think …” he’d babbled.

“You didn’t think,” you’d blubbered. “All those dudes, and you’re the one with a fucking drawer. How fucking dare you.”

Mary’s hold had tightened, but it wasn't to restrain you.

“Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I just … it wouldn’t be the first time I thought some girl liked me, when all they wanted was to fuck the band. It’s a fucking sore spot, ok?”

“I’m supposed to be ok with you thinking I’ve been playing you?”

“I just fucking panicked, ok? I—I really fucking like you.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Fuck off.”

You’d both chuckled.

“I just really fucking like you, and sometimes I just get too far into my own fucking head.”

You’d leaned back into his chest.

“You’re a fucking asshole and what you said was trashy. You said it to hurt me, and that’s not ok, Mary.”

He’d sighed and rested his forehead onto your shoulder.

“I just needed to hear you say it wasn’t true.”

“That’s still fucking insulting, but—” you’d tilted your head toward his, “Mary, I’m not dating you to fuck your bandmates. Now, fucking apologize.”

“I’m sorry I … that I was … my—”

“—that you were fucking cruel.”

“I’m sorry I was fucking cruel.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you had sat like that for a while until Mary had broken the silence.

“You scare me when you react like that.”

“I know,” you’d sighed. “I just … got overwhelmed. I’m … I am working on it, you know?”

“How?”

You’d curled a little into yourself.

“I do go to therapy, you know. It’s been—it is—a process.”

“K.”

“K?”

“Um, ‘ok, I acknowledge your effort and support it and won’t push as long as you’re getting help’?”

“Thanks.” You’d waited for a beat then had said, “Now you have to give me one. One personal thing.”

You’d waited patiently as Mary had considered.

“I was on my own at 19, so the guys are like my brothers—I love them, but they’re fucking annoying, and I hate them sometimes too. I’d give any one of them a kidney, but not my girl.”

You’d sighed. “I’m not going to fuck your brothers, Mare.”

“Yeah, I know. But thanks for saying.”

After that he’d helped you clean up the broken bowl. A week later you’d found your mug back in the cabinet—the handle was out of line with the break, but somehow still firmly secured back into place. You’d also stopped asking about attending his shows.

Thanksgiving came—he’d spent the day with his extended band family; you’d traveled out of state to spend it with your best friend—as you’d been doing since college. She knows a little about you and Mary, and you were happy to stay up drinking contraband wine with her on the trundle bed in her room as you’d scrolled through the handful of personal g-rated pictures you had.

It’s Saturday (your bus back home is at 6am the next day), and your bff and you are downtown just hanging out. You fucking love the energy of South Street, especially Crash Bang Boom, formally Zipperhead. One of the stops on your itinerary is a record store, and on a lark you go to see if Mary’s record is here. You know from one of Mary’s rants that they’ve been struggling to get wider distribution without a formal label, but that there’s a pretty good trade network amongst some of the indie places, and Philly isn’t so far away. You have to do more than a cursory search but!

It’s here!

You pull it out, intent on calling your friend over, when two guys who’d been browsing near you accost you.

“I hear they’re hot right now!” Boy 1 says.

“They used to be so hard to find,” says Boy 2.

You beam. “I know, right? They’re great.”

“You a big fan?” asks Boy 2.

What you mean to say is, I think their sound is very unique, but what you say when you open your mouth is, “I’m dating the lead guitarist.”

The two guys look at each other and snigger slightly.

“Yeah, ok,” says Boy 2.

You scrunch your face at them.

“I am.”

“Ok, maybe online you can peddle that crap, but c’mon,” says Boy 1.

You know not to feed the trolls … but these guys are kind of pissing you off. You tuck the DIY CD under your arm as you fish out your phone; it takes you a few seconds of poking, but you bring up the g-rated pics of you and Mary—most of which are slightly-blurry selfies. You think they’re endearing. Boy 1 and Boy 2 aren’t impressed.

“Are you serious?” sneers Boy 1. “These are clearly post-show selfies.”

“Fucking sad,” says Boy 2, shaking his head.

You’re at a loss because the majority of these are from your couch, so you toss your hair at them.

“Whatever. I don’t need a bunch of fake music boys to validate me. Krissy! Let’s bounce.”

You do end up buying the CD for her—which she promises to listen to in full and then report back.

When you get back to your place Sunday night—cranky and bleary-eyed—you’re surprised to find Mary asleep on your couch, cocooned in your afghan, even though it’s barely early evening. You divest yourself of your outside clothes and backpack before crawling over him.

“Mmph,” he grumbles.

“Hey,” you say, draped over him. “Why’re you on the couch?”

He manages to turn his head toward you slightly.

“You weren’t here.”

“Mare. You can sleep in my bed.”

He wiggles around so you’re both face to face.

“Yeah, I know. Wanted to know when you got back.”

“I still don’t see—”

He kisses you and manages to get his arms free to wrap around you.

“You’d’ve let me sleep if I was in your bed,” he says as he breaks the kiss.

“Yeah, maybe. Only because you’d need it.”

There’s some making out that begins to border on foreplay before your stomach rumbles unhappily. Mary laughs.

“You’re fucking great.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you grumble. “I think I last ate over 12hrs ago.”

Mary shifts to a sitting position. “I’m about to become your best friend.” He wiggles free and makes his way into your kitchen. You wrap the afghan around you as you shuffle after him. He beams at you before opening your fridge and doing his best impression of Vanna White. You peer in to see that there are multiple Tupperware containers jigsawed into your fridge.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Is this …?”

Mary’s grin is almost a rictus.

“You don’t think I look out for my baby doll? Friendsgiving leftovers, just for you!”

You crowd into his space.

“I don’t know what I should eat first: this bounty or your dick!”

Mary wraps his arms around you, but says, “Lady’s choice.”

Despite how hungry you are, you drop to your knees—afghan pooling around you—and mouth at his zipper. He caresses your head and shoulders, but when he doesn’t insist, you take matters into your own hands; you pet at his semi before unzipping his jeans and taking out his cock and balls.

“You don’t—” he gasps even as his hands are cupped around the back of your head.

“Shut the fuck up,” you say right before you take the tip of him into your mouth to suckle.

Mary likes it fast and sloppy, but tonight you suck him at your own pace—one hand rolling his balls and giving sporadic presses to his perineum. He’s trembling and whimpering, his hands clenching and unclenching in your hair. After one particularly hard suck he cries out, “Oh fuck, please.”

You shuffle around so that your back is against a bottom cabinet, and you make a soft grunt so that he looks down at you. His lips are wet and his eyes are glazed as you widen your mouth and moan encouragingly at him. His hands grip into your hair as he begins to fuck your face.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he breathes. “So sweet. Your fucking mouth.”

Usually you do your best to deep throat Mary, but today he seems to sense not to choke you. He’s still fucking your mouth, though—thrusting as deep as he dares, undeterred by the saliva dripping down your chin.

“I fucking missed you—missed this.”

You make sure to lock your gaze with his.

“Fuck.”

You bring your hand back up to his balls.

“OhpleaseOhshitOhfuckOhplease,” he chants, eyes now closed.

You slap your cunt a few times before you slip a hand into your tights to work at your clit in time to Mary fucking your mouth.

“Oh fuck, yeah—that’s right. My cock makes you so hot.”

You let the hand fondling him fall away so you can brace yourself against the counter, and Mary starts fucking your mouth faster. He’s still staring down at you, but now he’s only chanting Fuck over and over again as he pummels your mouth. You think he’ll probably cum first, but it’s actually you—your own adept fingers pushing you over the edge—and it’s only after you moan in time that he shoves you down on his cock as it kicks and shoots its load down your throat.

He lets go of your hair well before you’d even consider tapping out, so you make sure you suck up and down the length of him before he grunts and pulls away from oversensitivity. He looks down at you with hooded eyes as you continue to gently massage your own climax out.

“You’re too fucking good to me,” he says as he recombobulates himself.

You’re just easing the waves of your orgasm at this point.

“So fucking make me a plate,” you purr, knees splayed as you continue to finger yourself.

Mary grunts at you as if he’d like nothing better than to squash you into the floor and fuck the shit out of you—but by the time you’re done massaging the throbs out of your clit and and standing up, he’s got the food containers out and is constructing your plate.

Mary feeds you from the full plate in his lap—quite a departure from the norm (you love feeding him at your feet)—and the two of your talk about your holiday. He tells you about their mashed potato food fight. You tell him all about Krissy’s drama—which mostly entails her parents thinking that her living at home means she’ll be a nun—but you offhandedly mention Boy 1 & Boy 2 in context of your day out. 

Mary tenses.

“What?” you ask as you catch his eye. You’re not going to bring up seeing his band if you can help it.

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

Mary sighs.

“You just. I hate that they didn’t believe you. You are my girl.”

You wriggle up and shrug.

“They’re not wrong. A few close up selfies don’t prove anything.”

“It still fucking sucks, and I hate it. Can we go to bed when you’re done?”

You snort. “You just want to snuggle.”

“So what if I fucking do? I brought you candied sweet potatoes at great cost to my life and limb. You owe me.”

You huff in laughter. “All right, dude. Fine. Let me brush my teeth and then we can … snuggle.”

“Damn straight.”

It’s maybe two weeks later when Mary’s on your couch watching the WWE, your feet in his lap as you play a game on your phone (no way was him being here is going to make you miss your chance at getting a high placing on this week’s special challenge). During the commercial break he plucks at your alumni sleep pants.

“Hey. Have you noticed you haven't worn anything nice in a while?” he says to your leg.

You look up at him over your phone, incredulous.

“Um, ok. First of all: rude. Second: Dude. Half your shirts are from high school and half of those are covered in blood. What the fuck.”

His hand sneaks under your pant leg to stroke at your calf. When you shy away—shaving a long-forgotten routine now that the weather has chilled—he firmly pulls you back to continue his exploration.

“Yeah. I don’t own anything nice—you have all these cute as fuck clothes just chilling on your curtain rod collecting dust.” 

You heave a sigh.

“Well. You work most nights, Mary. You know I try to be here if you’re going to be around, and what?—I’m gonna dress up in my own home?”

He squeezes your calf muscle.

“Christ, you’re defensive. Let me fucking finish my lead in, woman. I just mean we should get out.”

You creep the foot of your free leg under his t-shirt to press into his boney ribs.

“Ok, but when? Your schedule’s not very conducive to that, you know.”

He looks at you, searching your face, before insinuating himself between your legs and rubbing his hands up your thighs. 

“We’re playing at Regency in a few weeks,” he says as he leans down to kiss your belly. He looks up at you. “You could put on one those ‘fuck me’ numbers you got.” 

Kiss. 

“Come see me play.” 

Kiss. 

“I could fuck you in the bathroom.” 

Kiss.

He takes the hem of your pants between his teeth and begins to tug it down.

“Mary! My ranking!”

“Fuck your ranking,” he says as he yoinks your phone out of your hand and shoves it down the front of his pants. You gasp as he yanks your bottoms the rest of the way free, and then proceeds to run his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip his hair tight as he worms his tongue around and over your clit, sparking your arousal. You let your head fall back, moaning, as he tongues you.

He breaks away suddenly. “So will you think about it?”

You look down at him through hazy vision. “Wha—what?”

“The show. Will you think about coming to it?”

The only thing you’re thinking about right now is his tongue back on you.

“Fuck. C’mon, Mary.”

“The. Gig,” he continues, before giving you one, long lap. “Wanna show you off,” he says, growling into your labia.

Christ he should make up his mind. As if it was your reticence from attending. 

“Yeah!” you gasp, encouraging him, as you grind yourself into his waiting mouth. “Wanna be shown off!”

He yanks you down prone, hoisting your legs over his shoulders so he has better access to suck your clit between his plump lips. The sensation is heavenly, and you make pleased noises.

“Gonna show off my hot girlfriend,” he pants as he comes up for air. “Make everyone know you’re mine, rub it in their faces.”

You grab the back of his head and rub his face into your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and get on with it for chrissake’s!”

He eats you out in earnest then—his tongue and lips adeptly coaxing you toward climax—the sound of the snarling wrestlers and cheering crowd the soundtrack to your orgasm; he licks you steadily as you squirm and thrash through it. Once you're thoroughly spent, he divests you of your top and crawls up your torso while unbuckling his jeans—your phone plopping onto your stomach and sliding down into the cushions. 

“Hold your tits together,” he rumbles before thrusting between them a handful of times, head thrown back. Then he leans over you—guiding his cock to your mouth with his hips, before he’s fucking your face into the couch—unashamedly moaning when he hears you gag. He pulls out in time to cum all over your face and neck, hand flying between his legs—too intent with his art to even grunt out his pleasure.

Looking down at you, he bites his lip and says, “Fuck you’re beautiful. Can I take a picture?”

(This was something you’d gotten used to—Mary always wanting to take pictures of the oddest things with his ancient, digital HP camera.)

When you hesitate, he says, “No, you’re right. It’s …” He begins to climb off you, but you put a hand on his thigh.

“You … you can,” you stutter “but … I’ll keep it for you. Just … transfer it to me and delete it immediately.”

He rolls his eyes. “Big help you having it when I’m lonely and want to jerk off,” he says—but he's already off the couch, tucking himself back in, and rummaging through his worn backpack.

The two of you had done a little photoshoot then, trying to get the best angles, the best shine, your sexiest pout—and a few with his fingers in your mouth. When he’s satisfied, he hands you your shirt so you can wipe off—which you promptly rejected in favor of cleaning off in the bathroom sink (“Gross.” “What? I don’t understand.” “I wear this shirt!” “My jizz is literally on you right now!”).

When you come back out, Mary already has his memory card in the USB convertor and is attached to your laptop.

“Don’t I get to help choose?” you ask as you sit down next to him.

“My pictures.”

“My face!” you retort.

“My pictures for my use.”

You lean in to see which he’s chosen.

“Oh, not that one! I look like Jaba the Hutt with that chin!”

Mary squints at it, shrugs, then turns to grin at you.

“I won’t be looking at your chin.”

“Fine,” you grumble flopping back. “But I want my complaint filed on the record.”

“Ok,” he says and kisses the tip of your nose.

You push him away and wipe at your face. “Gross, Mary. Don’t be all mushy and shit.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, Suey,” he says into the computer.

When he finishes—4 photos now living in a folder on your desktop entitled “MarysSecretJackoffMaterial”—he lets you drive. You promptly drag all the smutty images of you into your trash and delete them immediately.

He has to leave for work not long after that, and you’ve gotten sucked into the WWE storyline. It isn’t until you’re ready to go to bed that you realize your phone is still in the depths of the couch. Once retrieved, you text him.

Me [12:37am]: Goddamnit, Mary! My RANKING.

Mary [2:28am]: XD

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

Battle Wounds

Helllloooooo! I have returned! I really need to make a set schedule to post these... I’ll figure it out. So! This is a favorite of mine and one of the first fics I wrote for Loki. I wrote Jelsa for one of my good friends when we were in high school as a sort of bribe to help her stop causing herself harm so that was a very productive way to practice my craft XD. 

Just a disclaimer, I mention a “connection” between Loki and Noelle in this one and through many of the next ones. The “connection” is called a binding. It  means that the two of them were cursed: their souls split in half and trade places. Basically they have half of each others’ souls in their own bodies. This gives them the ability to hear each others thoughts and feel each others feelings. They can block it off but it is tiring to do so. Unless they are in battle and working off an adrenaline rush or trying to keep a secret, they typically let the connection flow. 

Summary: Loki and Noelle are called to Nilfheim to assist in a battle, during which our Dear Loki is injured. Noelle fixes him up since the healers are busy with the other warriors.

Battle Wounds

Noelle POV:

"Hold still!"

Loki grunts in pain, "I am not sure how you expect me to stay still when it hurts so much."

"If you held still it wouldn't hurt as bad," I tell him calmly. I am cleaning the wound on his forearm, the worst of all of them. "I still don't understand how this round of negotiations escalated so quickly."

"Well, the leader was being unreasonable in his terms of agreement."

I nod, knowing that if I said anything else, it will turn into a fight and I do not want to fight two battles in one day.

'You were not supposed to come. I specifically told you to stay home,' he says using our connection. I can feel his anger bubbling in my head.

'You couldn't expect me to stay home when you and my friends ran off to battle. You should know that.'

"That is not the point, Noelle!" He exclaims, out loud this time. I have to put my hand on his leg to keep him from standing, "What if you had been wounded yourself. What if you had been killed? I could not have gotten to you in time..." he trails off, shaking his head as though dispelling the thought from his mind.

As I stand, I put down the cloth in my hand and move my hands to either side of his face, forcing him to look me in the eye. "Nothing happened. I am fine. I can take care of myself," he takes a deep breath before leaning his head against my stomach, continuing to pant a bit. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling his love and relief that I'm alright course through the connection, "Besides, if I weren't here, that could have been way worse. That giant would have taken you out completely." I joke, making him look up and scowl at me before pressing his forehead back to my torso, the hand of his good arm resting on my hip.

I laugh a bit as I pull away so that I can continue mending his arms. I sit back down and  continue cleansing the gash in his arm from elbow to the inside of his wrist. He watches me work silently, no long complaining of the pain I know I must be causing.

After completing my task as Loki's personal healer, I helped him into his shirt again and watched him button his vest. He finishes dressing and offers me his good arm, leading me out of the tent reserved specifically for healing purposes. In a way, it reminds me of a hospital running a code black: too many patients, not enough medical staff. There are five or six healers summoned from Asgard after the situation was considered safe and secure for their arrival. The tent itself is not that big, 20x20 feet at most, and packed with beds like in a World War II movie with three or four private beds shielded with curtains for special cases. The wounded Prince of Asgard happens to be such a case, and received his own private bed. However, he did not have much patience after the battle to wait for a healer so he asked me to do it. I did not have much trouble with it,  considering it was not the first time I've had to clean him up after a brawl.

'It certainly will not be the last, I'm afraid, darling. I do not take kindly to people with no brains speaking ill of you.' He whispers in my head.

'I know. But you do not always have to protect me, they say it after you fight them anyway.' I inform him, doing my best not to think of any names. I cannot have him making his arm worse.

"Do you really think so low of me to assume that I would duel someone in my condition?" He looks down at me out of the corner of his eye.

"If someone was talking bad about me, I would not put it past you."

He shrugs, agreeing silently and then makes a sudden turn around a corner to a part of camp he knows that nobody would have been in and was not likely to come to.

As soon as we are out of sight, he drops his arm and wraps it around my waist, pressing his lips against mine forcefully. My arms fly around his neck and pull him closer to me. He easily lifts me off my feet and my legs wrap around his waist. From this new position he had to look up slightly to reach me and he must have tired of that quickly because it isn't long before his lips trail down my jaw to my throat to my collarbone. I run my fingers through his hair and tighten my hold on him. We must have been like this, lost in our own world for a while because by the time I open my eyes again, the sun is setting and we are sitting on the ground.

Loki maneuvers our position from me sitting in his lap facing him with my arms around his neck, head on his shoulder, to his legs apart and bent at the knees, back against a beam of a nearby tent with me sitting between his legs with my back pressed against him. I lean my head back against his shoulder, my forehead pressed into his neck. He rests his head on mine. His arms wrap around me again and we stay this way, watching the sun disappear over the horizon.

I must have fallen asleep because when I wake up, I am in another place entirely. I am surrounded by green fabric and realize that I am in a tent. I look around and recognize Loki's green and black leather jacket on the chair in the corner. I peer into the darkness of the tent, trying to find him. I spot him from my place in what I realize is his bed, on a small couch that he must have conjured to sleep on. It isn't far from the bed, close enough for me to reach out and brush his silky hair out of his face. He moves slightly, grabbing my hand to keep my hand where it was on his cheek.

"Loki," I whisper, fully aware of his consciousness, "I'm cold."

He smirks, knowing that it is just an excuse to get him to come lay down with me. He makes a noise that sounds like he's snoring and I giggle, trying not to make too much noise. I am not sure if he put a sound barrier charm on the tent.

'You think I would bring you in here if I didn't? I knew you would wake up eventually. You did not have anything to eat after the fight.' He says into my mind, finally opening his emerald green eyes.

I did not notice my hunger until he said something and he seems to know it. He stood up and walked across the tent to retrieve. He turned back to me with a tray of food. I get up off the bed and make my way to him. I kiss his jaw when I reach him and take some food off the tray as I sit on the floor next to the small table that was not there a moment ago. He sits next to me, occasionally picking something off the platter. We talk a bit about the battle and the failed talks before it occurred. I'm not sure how we got there but we eventually talked about his parents and mine.

We have already met each other's parents. My father being of Asgard was helpful in part to this. He met my mother before we began courting; he followed me to Midgard when I went for Christmas a few months after I first travelled to Asgard.

I knew his because they were the Allfather and Queen of Asgard but I never got to a personal level with the Allfather that I did with Frigga. She was a truly wonderful woman and she raised such wonderful sons. Loki is the love of my life and Thor is like a brother that is partly a big brother and partly a younger brother, meaning that he is willing to fight back to back with Loki to protect me but Loki and I are constantly having to reign him in to keep him out of trouble.

"She likes you, you know." Loki interrupts my thoughts, "She thinks you are good for me. She is happy for us." I smile at this. I'm glad to know one of his parents approve of me. "My brother is, as well. He had a crush on you when he first met you but you were taken before he knew what happened." He chuckles at the end and it makes me laugh.

"He does not anymore. He has eyes for another lovely woman we know." I say.

Loki cocks an eyebrow at me questioningly. I laugh at the look on his face and say, "You cannot tell me that you haven't noticed his behavior! He is so obvious." He still looks confused and I laugh harder. "I'm not telling. You have to guess. But I will tell you that he spends more time with her than on the training grounds."

"Lady Sif!" He exclaims, figuring it out.

"Ding ding ding!" I can barely breathe from laughing so hard. I fall sideways into him and use his body as support to stay upright. "I cannot believe I did not notice before. He is so clearly infatuated by her now that I look back." He looks shaken and joins in with my laughing.

We talk and laugh for a bit longer before finally tiring out again. I'm still leaning on him, his arm around my shoulders.

"Are you really going to make me sleep all by myself in your bed while I can see you on that couch?" I ask him, mostly teasing but also a little serious. I do not want to sleep alone when I can see he is close enough for me to reach out and touch him.

"You proved today that I cannot truly make you do anything," he mumbles, glancing down at me, his thoughts flashing to our earlier argument about my being in the battle.

I smile a bit and nod my head, "So is that a no?"

He smirks. "No, love. I will not make you sleep alone in my bed if you believe that you will get cold without me there," he jokes.

I grin widely and pull him to his feet with me then proceed to drag him to the bed. I lay down and he follows suit. As soon as he is comfortable, I move closer and tuck myself under his arm, resting my head on the place where his arm and shoulder connect to the rest of his body. I close my eyes and he covers us both with the sheets before drawing his arms around me. I'm not sure how long he laid awake but I assume not long after I passed out.

I hate sleeping without him.

Hi! I have a chapter/prompt idea for you. Remember the line in the Ahsoka book that goes... “what do you even know about family?” Kaeden said. “You never had one. And you probably never had friends, either. Just clones who had to do everything you said, because you were their superior officer.” Would love to see Ahsoka and Kaeden talk about it in a prompt/chapter. It really struck a nerve in me. The Jedi and clones were Ahsoka’s family and majority of them died... :(

Hey anon, hope you didn’t mind the wait for the reply. Wanted to get it all good and everything. I took your idea and ran with it a bit. It might not be 100% what you wanted, but I hope you liked what I did do. Thanks for the prompt. Feel free to send more my way. Same goes for the rest of you. XD

1: Kaeden and Ahsoka speak about family

"Hey, I need to talk to you. It's important."

Ahsoka Tano was no expert at romance. There was a reason many of her closest friends, her girlfriend included, often referred to her as the 'Queen of being Dense'. Nine times out of ten she missed the subtle social cues that usually indicated that something was wrong, or that something shouldn't be investigated or talked about.

Of course though, Ahsoka just had to be the person who would break all of those rules! She blamed her time as an undercover spy.

That said, even she knew when something was bothering someone, and by the way Kaeden has suddenly sunk onto the couch next to her, her posture slouched in despair and her tone grim, it was something bad.

And as Kaeden Larte's girlfriend, it was Ahsoka's job to find out what the problem was!

"What's up?" Ahsoka replied as she bookmarked the page of the 'Book of Hondo', setting it aside for later, before moving closer to Kaeden, one arm wrapping round the human woman.

Kaeden didn't answer immediately, though she did raise her head from where she had been staring at the floor blankly. Her eyes, usually so bright with joy and focus, and sometimes mischievousness, instead seemed to have a dark shadow to them, as if something was haunting the gateway to her soul.

"Kaeden? Talk to me."

"I need to apologise to you."

That surprised Ahsoka! What did Kaeden possibly have to apologise for? If anything Ahsoka was the one that should be apologizing on a daily basis for all the crazy stunts she pulled.

Still, whatever Kaeden felt like she had to apologize for was clearly eating her up inside, so Ahsoka didn't hesitate to respond.

"I forgive you."

"No! I… you don't even know what I'm apologizing for!

"I know… but I already forgive you."

"Please Ahsoka… just… just let me speak."

Ahsoka didn't miss the way Kaeden had winced as Ahsoka had 'forgiven' her without blinking an eye. The thought that Kaeden thought that Ahsoka wouldn't forgive her hurt the Togruta. Did Kaeden not know how special she was to Ahsoka?

"Ok Kaeden… ok. What do you need to apologize for?"

Kaeden lowered her head for a few seconds as she contemplated how to phrase whatever was on her mind. Ahsoka didn't want to rush her, but every moment that passed was hell for the Togruta. She hated seeing anyone suffer, double so for Kaeden.

"About Raada. About what I said to you when you first revealed your Force powers. I said you didn't know what it was like to have a family. That all you had were Clones to boss around because you were their commanding officer. I was wrong to say that, and I was wrong to say you didn't know what it meant to have a family and I'm so sorry for what I said to you."

Ahsoka's eyes widened. She had honestly forgotten that Kaeden had ever said such a thing! Had she really said something that could have been taken in such a cruel way?

Memories came back to Ahsoka, one of an angry Kaeden surrounded by her friends and sister on Raada, accusing her of not helping them fight the Empire more, of not doing enough!

But even back then, Ahsoka had remembered not being angry at the words. She had understood, and in some ways she agreed. What did Ahsoka know about a true family? She had been taken from hers at three years of age after all.

"What's brought this on Kaeden?" Ahsoka asked quietly, pulling the human woman closer to her, resting her head atop Kaeden's, hoping it offered some comfort. From the way Kaeden leaned in closer as well, Ahsoka could tell it was having some sort of positive effect.

"I was speaking to Rex. I told him what I said to you and he… well he didn't take it too well to say the least."

Ahsoka didn't even realize she had frozen up until she felt Kaeden's palm gently wrap around her own, squeezing intently as a reminder that she was still there. Ahsoka couldn't help the build up of anger at herself that occurred suddenly. She was supposed to be comforting Kaeden… not the other way around!

"What did Rex say?" Ahsoka inquired, worried that her girlfriend had just inadvertently made an enemy out of her oldest and most trusted friend.

"He called me unreasonable and said I was damned lucky to have you. He said if anyone ever hurt his little sister he would kill them, then clone them just so he could kill them again. I don't think he was even kidding!"

Once more Ahsoka's eyes widened at Kaeden's recount of Rex's words. In all honesty, she wasn't that surprised about ex's reaction. The old Clone Captain was fiercely territorial and defensive when it came to people he saw as his brothers and family, and in Ahsoka's case, his little sister.

There was a time Ahsoka could recall that all of the Clones in the 501st saw her that way. Rex was always willing to teach her, to help her improve herself.

Fives was always willing to joke around with her. He had taught her how not to succumb to the pressures of command.

Echo had taught her how to be patient, how to follow procedure when it mattered most. Losing him at the Citadel had been a major blow for them all.

Kix and Coric had taught her how to save people in more ways than one. It didn't matter that they weren't always out fighting, as they fought the most dangerous and formidable foe in existence on a daily basis and won. Combating death was one hell of a task after all.

It wasn't just the boys in the 501st that had taught her either. Both Cody and Wolffe had given her new perspective on things. Through their teachings and encouragement, she had learned how to adapt on the fly, how to improvise, and most importantly, how to get the job done.

And then there were the rest. Hardcase had taught her to be bold. Waxer and Boil had taught her the importance of companionship. Dogma had taught her to have faith and not lose it.

And Jesse had taught her how to be cautious. It was not the lesson she wished she had learnt from him, but it was the most important one of her life, one she had carried with her as Fulcrum. When Order 66 had been issued, and Jesse turned on her and Rex, Ahsoka had no choice but to act.

There were nights where she still saw the Arc Trooper in her dreams, impaled on a burning green blade, mere seconds away from murdering Rex in cold blood. She did not regret her actions, but she wished how they had been different.

If only things had been different.

"He was right of course. The Clones, despite being your subordinates, were your family. Rex told me about them all. About Fives and Echo, Jesse and Hardcase. Hell he even introduced me to Kix. And then there's the Jedi too!"

Ahsoka listened as Kaeden continued on, recalling more and more of her discussion with Rex, which sounded like had gotten more civil after the old Clone's initial hostility.

"And then Rex told me about the Jedi he knew, about the one's he knew had a strong bond with you. I'm sorry about Master Plo Koon, Ahsoka. I wish I could have met him. He sounded wonderful."

"He really was." Ahsoka couldn't help but reply, her fond memories of the Kel Dor coming to her mind. How she wished he was still here.

"He also told me about Anakin. And Senator Amidala too."

Ahsoka tried not to stiffen at the mention of her former Jedi Master. Even now he was a sore spot, for both her and Rex. How Obi-Wan was able to forgive and forget was unknown to her. She really wished she had his patience and understanding sometimes.

But then she hadn't been there at the end, and Obi-Wan had. Perhaps he knew something she didn't.

"I know you hate him Ahsoka, and no one blames you for it, but from what Rex told me he was like your father figure in many ways. I can't imagine what it was like to have to kill him."

It had been hard at the time…. but like with Jesse it had been necessary. Ahsoka had had to make a difficult decision with the information she had… just as Anakin had taught her too as a Padawan.

And Padmé? Padmé had taught her to trust in her actions, and to know right from wrong.

Ahsoka really hoped that the Senator would be proud of her if she was still alive.

"So I'm sorry. I was wrong to say you didn't know what it was like to have a family, because you did have one. It was just very different from mine." Kaeden finished, squeezing Ahsoka's hand again whilst waiting for the Togruta's response.

Wasting no time and already knowing how she was going to respond, Ahsoka brought her free hand up to Kaeden's cheek, gently pulling the woman's face towards her before placing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Pulling back, Ahsoka rested her forehead on Kaeden's and spoke.

"As I said, you are already forgiven, forever and always. My family may have been different from yours, but back then you had every right to say what you did. I may have lost that family, but now I have a new one in you."

The way Kaeden's face lit up with a small smile was all the response Ahsoka needed. If Kaeden was happy, so was she.

"I…. ok… thanks Ahsoka. I feel like I understand you better now thanks to Rex. I wish I could have met all of your old family."

"Me too Kaeden. Me too." Ahsoka replied, banishing any thoughts of the fate of her old family from her mind. It would not do her well to dwell on the past. Right now all she wanted to focus on was the present.

And that present was Kaeden Larte.

Fictober: #29 and #30

SWTOR

STARRING: Satele Shan, and THERON SHAN having several moments!

PART 1: [X] | PART 2: [X] | PART 3: [X] | PART 4: [X]

PART 5: [X] | PART 6: [X] | PART 7: [X] | PART 8: [X] | PART 9: [X]

THE THRILLING CONCLUSION!

THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! 

@sunsetofdoom @doomhamster @fluffynexu  @anchanted-one @kunoichi-ume @cinlat @velvetsunset and @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

_______________________

Theron woke up well past noon. A new record considering he hadn’t taken copious amounts of whisky. He rolled over to find the bed empty but Tikal’s scent lingered in the covers and he sighed happily. As his mind slowly woke up, his thoughts lingered on her. Tikal, The Gilded Lady, The Hero of Tython… different people, or perhaps just different aspects of the same person.

She confused him. A reasonable person would hate and resent her for what she had done to him. She had kidnapped him, infected him with an obedience virus, coerced him into helping her plans and that was just off the top of his head. Still, no one would ever claim that Theron was reasonable by any stretch of the imagination. He was chaotic and unpredictable to the point that he had torpedoed every relationship he had ever had.

His last tryst had broken up with him via text. ‘You take too much. You need more than I can give.’

Perhaps that was why it felt good to be with Tikal. With her there were limits. He took what was given and it always seemed to be exactly what he needed. It was warped and twisted but she had taken care of him all this time. Even when he had done something incredibly stupid, she had torn down the door and rescued him. Perhaps it was fitting that she was not the typical sort of Jedi.

Perhaps it’s all Stockholm’s.

Regardless, she had taken him to her bed last night and made the pain fade. That cold chill he always felt around his heart was gone. He sighed and stared at the ceiling all the while feeling foolish for believing she would have more than a fleeting interest in him. The mission was over. Their affair was finished. She had gone off to resume her duties and soon he would be well enough to travel back to Coruscant. 

Tikal would never think about him again.

At that moment door opened and a polished gold protocol droid walked holding a tray of food. As the droid set the tray down, Theron saw it was also carrying a fresh change of clothes. He took that as his cue to get up and hobble into the refresher. When he emerged, the droid was patiently waiting.

“Good afternoon, I am C2-N2. Master Tikal apologizes for not being here, but the High Council requested her presence. She has tasked me with providing food and drink.”

He noted that his blaster, and favorite red jacket were also laid out on the freshly made bed. As he slipped on the new trousers, he noticed the knees were reinforced to hide his injury while he finished healing. Inside his red jacket were his holo and a discrete parcel of strong pain killers along with a note:

‘Take WITH food. Not when you planned to eat, not at lunch time. P.S. I don’t care if you’re not hungry.’

She still thought about him. He mattered.

A strange emotion welled up inside him and he cleared his throat. He thought about dismissing the droid, but decided to interrogate him instead. The silly thing was far too eager to please to notice.

It came as only a slight surprise to find out he was in the Jedi Temple on Tython. Of all the places to end up, he supposed this was the safest. Tikal would be back that afternoon as soon as her responsibilities allowed.

“She asked that your remain in the room,” Ceetoo stated as Theron picked up a muja fruit from the tray and walked past the droid.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Master Tikal predicted you would say that and so she requests that you not wander too far from the grounds as there are wild beasts roaming the forest. Additionally, she would like you to know that quote: ‘The amount of credits necessary to finance your medical bills would plunge the Republic into a recession’. End quote.”

Theron cracked a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He wandered out of the dormitories and into the main hallway. Under the hazy overcast light of day, the temple seemed significantly less threatening. He could appreciate the delicate carved walls now that they were no longer obscured by shadows. Padawans mulled around the corridors, some hurried about as though completing a specific errand, others still were trading the latest gossip. Few if any paid him any mind.

As he watched this unexpectedly mundane part of Temple life, he couldn’t help but think of his own childhood. As much as he tried to suppress the thoughts, the reality was that for a large portion of his life this had been his goal. There had been a time when his only thoughts were on visiting Tython and learning how to hone his power. To be here now, surrounded by the very life he was denied was disconcerting. He made a sharp and eventually ended up in the meditation garden but even this only reminded him of a life that would never come to pass.

He didn’t blame Master Zho, how could he? But there were times when he wondered if it would have been better to grow up with a normal family doing normal things and with normal expectations. Yes, there was a galaxy full of wonders that he would never be able to perceive. But perhaps ignorance was bliss if not the more merciful option.

As though the universe continued to conspire against him, he walked around the corner and straight into a small clearing where Satele Shan was waiting.

Fuck me…

“You seem troubled. Is everything alright?” she asked.

Oh perfectly fine. Just walking around taking in the visible reminders of a life I will never have.

“Getting shot will do that,” he grinned as he concealed his emotions from her as best he could.

“Yes, I heard you had been… indisposed.”

“All better now. No need to worry. Or… you know… continue not worrying,” Theron opened his arms as though to put himself under her scrutiny.

Satele looked visibly uncomfortable. She never quite knew how to address Theron. A part of her blamed his lack of emotional discipline, but a quieter, constant voice asked if she were being unreasonable considering the circumstances.

“Yes. I see. If you have a moment Theron, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” she motioned to a pair of benches behind her. Theron eyed Satele warily but followed. He had a bad feeling about this.

“If this is about me being here, don’t worry. I’ll be on the next shuttle to Coruscant.”

“No Theron. I want to ask you about Tikal. I understand you were with her these past few weeks working on a project,” Satele chose her words carefully but ultimately, there was no gentle way of saying it, “it has also come to my attention that you two have been… intimate.”

Theron felt an unpleasant jolt of outrage but remained stoic. “Why don’t you just come out and say what you need to say, Grand Master.”

There was a sharp inflection in the title that hammered home just how much distance was between them. Satele flinched but pressed on.

“It would be an unwise course of action for you to associate too much with Master Ameron. There are tasks that she needs to complete; flaws that she must work on,” she very nearly faltered when Theron gave an incredulous smile.

“So what. This is you telling me to stay away from the wrong crowd?”

“Theron, I understand this may be difficult to hear, but her path is already shrouded in shadow. The dark side touches her actions, and they will only get worse if you indulge in this relationship,” her explanation seemed to ignite a fire in Theron’s eyes.

“Which actions exactly? Because, I read her file. I know what she did. I know that you and the council dragged her all over the the galaxy with a chore list and then had the gall to complain about how she went about it.”

“The motivation behind her actions-”

“Don’t talk to me about motivation. You were the one who sent her out there with a laser sword and a hit list.”

Satele clenched her hands as she kept her own emotions in check. “Is that what you truly believe? Or is that what you tell yourself in order to continue to pursue her? You must know by now that she is not a traditional Jedi. And yes, we use her skills as a last resort, but that does not mean the ends justify the means. She is incapable of holding a normal relationship. Her attachment to you would not be healthy.”

“Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time I almost ruined a Jedi’s career prospects,” he replied unable to keep the bitterness from his tone and Satele’s brow furrowed.

“You misunderstand, I’m not speaking to you on Tikal’s behalf. I’m doing this for you. If you insist on this she will reciprocate. No matter how much you believe otherwise, it will end poorly. I don’t want that for you, Theron. I want to spare you the pain.”

“Then spare me the rest of this conversation,” he snapped as the simmering rage within him bubbled over, “who do you think you are to tell me who I can or can’t fuck? You lost that right the moment you checked the box opting out of having a son. And you know what? That’s fine. You got everything you wanted out of it, but don’t come to me now and pretend we have anything resembling a personal relationship. We’re coworkers at best. And if we’re being honest, considering your track record, you’re the least qualified person to be doling out relationship advice.”

Satele watched as Theron got up, too stunned to respond.

“Good talkin’ to you,” and with that caustic parting he stormed back to the dormitories. He didn’t know what was more infuriating, the Satele’s condescending advice, or the fact that she would condemn their relationship as a failure.

“If you insist on this she will reciprocate. No matter how much you believe otherwise, it will end poorly.”

Right, because the idea that she would love me is so inherently wrong.

He stopped short as the words penetrated the fog of anger. Satele’s warning wasn’t that Tikal would reject him. Her fear was that Tikal would embrace him. Something akin to hope bubbled in his heart.

“How was your walk?” He looked up to see Tikal in front of him. Impulse won out once more and he hugged her.

“Theron? Are you alright?”

He closed his eyes tightly and held on. Later he would blame the painkillers, but for now he needed to feel grounded. He needed to belong somewhere.

“I’m with you, you know that. Right?” he asked quietly and in response he felt her arms wrap around him.

“Well yes, but it’s nice to be told,” she mused and, in that moment, he knew it would all work out. Despite what anybody else thought, they would be okay.

________________________

Original Fictober Promp List HERE!

Title: Northern Lights

 By: GreasyGyeom

 Summary: It’s a surprise!

Yugyeom x Noona / Fluff (for the most part)

Warnings: Dirty talk / Innuendos / Handjob

Author’s Note: (i) The Ice Forest is a free inline skating rink inside the Incheon Airport. (ii) I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get another fic out, but thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy it!

“Can you not be so vague?”

“I’m not being vague Yugyeom, just wait at the airport for half an hour more; what do you have to lose in that.”

“What are you up to?” he asked, sounding just a bit annoyed.

“Oh my god just wait for half an hour, I’ll tell you?”

“I’m really tired, noona, I wanna go home.”

“Please, baby, I promise it’s gonna be worth it. I know you just landed and you wanna go home, but just wait ….okay, just wait.”

“You’re going to ask me to get on a plane again. I know it”

“I’ll tell you when I see you. Can you please wait. Is Jackson with you?”

“Yeah, he’s here. Hyung knows what all this is about?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“I bet he does. I’m gonna pester him. Fine I’ll wait, find me when you get here.”

“Okay okay” you rolled your eyes, sliding your phone back into your bag. You had been eager to cut the call since the moment it had begun - it totally had nothing to do with you hating attending phone calls at all, even if they were from your boyfriend.

You kind of felt bad for keeping him in the dark, because he spent so much time travelling already, yet you were about to drag his tiny non-existent arse to the opposite side of the world. But, arguably so, what you had planned was a lot different to what his work life demanded from him, which ultimately made your cause somewhat more noble-or so you liked to believe anyway.

You were worried though, of course. There was a solid chance he’d get so irritated at the thought of travelling for another 16+ hours that he might just go home. Yugyeom wasn’t known for his temper, but it did flare, on rare, special occasions. You just hoped this wasn’t going to become one of them.

Gosh. Planning a surprise was so far turning out to be worse than receiving one.

You called Jackson to find out where they were, while getting your bag out of the car; your teeth clattering ever so slightly because of the low, February temperatures.

You met them outside the arrival gates and thanked Jackson profusely for coming to the airport, instead of you, just to keep Yugyeom company. Judging by Yugyeom’s body language, you knew he wasn’t too pleased.

“It’s okay, don’t stress it.” Jackson smiled kindly — almost as if asking you to not get disheartened by your boyfriend’s behaviour— before giving you a tight hug. “I’ll see you in a week?”

“Hyung, I’ll see you at your place after gym.” Yugyeom suddenly replied, speaking over you.

“No, you won’t. Stop being a dick.”

“How am I being a dick? I’m telling you what my plan is. I don’t know what her plan is, because she’s not telling me anything.”

“I was going to tell you” you replied, almost teary-eyed because of his standoffish behaviour. You promised yourself you would handle it without getting anxious, but that pep-talk was failing right now.

“That’s how surprises work, idiot. Look now you’re making her cry.”

“I’m not crying, I’m fine.” you assured Jackson, and then turned to Yugyeom, “Look, I didn’t want to piss you off or anything. But if that is how it turned out then, it’s still okay.”

You knew there was always a chance of things going south very fast, because, while usually he had the patience of a buddhist monk, air travel and sickness brought out the worst in him. And when Yugyeom got in this mood, it was always imminent defeat for you. You were the older one in the relationship, but emotionally you were submissive, you couldn’t deal well with being his source of anger. That was the power he held over you; that you made sure he never was made fully aware of.

But since getting him disgruntled had not been the objective of your agenda, you decided there and then to simply comply with his wishes.

Softening your tone you continued, “But you know what, you’re right. I’m sorry, I should have asked you before planning it. I just wanted to spend a week away from everything, but it was out of selfishness. I’ll cancel everything and meet you later?”

You were hurting a bit inside, obviously, but you felt you should have asked him beforehand if he was okay to travel for another day. Besides the fact that you couldn’t stand the idea of Yugyeom being angry at you, you didn’t want Grumpy McGrumpson to ruin the trip either.

Giving him a weak smile, you started walking away from them but, to your surprise, Yugyeom pulled you back.

“I have one condition.”

You looked up at him, shivering for a millisecond as a cold gust of wind blew past.

He glanced at your tiny red button nose and his heart melted. He didn’t want to be mad at you just as much as he didn’t want to board another flight, which he knew he was going to have to.

However, the suffering had to be equal.

“You will ice skate with me first.”

You hated ice skating - any skating really - but ice skating specifically because apart from being convinced that you couldn’t stand on the skates for more than two seconds before getting disbalanced and falling, it was always unbearably cold inside.

“Fine.”

“Really?” He was quite surprised at how you didn’t put a fight at all. He was expecting some negotiations.

“Yeah, I’ll do it. You can’t show me this attitude after having your way though.”

“Shit, I should have asked you call me oppa for a day instead. You would have totally done it.”

“Don’t push it”, you warned, as he took your hand in his and gripped it tightly.

“Kim Yugyeom, that is extremely unreasonable” Jackson pointed out, knowing your standing on the idea of sports, “And really mean. She’s your girlfriend.”

“Yeah you wanna ice skate in noona’s place then? And get late for your workout?” Yugyeom mocked, reminding him of the session he had in an hour that he couldn’t afford to miss.

“You little brat. Don’t give her a hard time, okay?” He said, giving the both of you one last hug, “Give me a call if he’s acting like an asshole.”

“Okay Jackson, but I think I can deal with that on my own.”

“By letting him have his way?” I don’t think so. Call me.”

And then he blended into a sea of people rushing to get into cabs. You chuckled, but in actuality, watching him leave was like watching your security blanket get shredded into pieces. Now it really was just you and Grumpy McGrumpson.

“Soooo… where are we going exactly?” He asked, as you both walked into the airport, dragging your suitcases.

“Uhh…. I’ll tell you, but you absolutely cannot get annoyed.”

“Okay, I will try not to.”

“Iceland”

His eyes nearly popped out of their socket. He wasn’t annoyed, just very very shocked.

“Why? Iceland? You hate the cold. You’re dying inside right now because of the cold! Oh wait, do you have tickets to see Sigur Rós?”

“What? No, I wish we were that lucky; but I actually have a meeting there at the end of the week. I’d have had to leave in three days. So, I thought, since we barely get to spend time alone for more than some hours, it would be a good idea to take you with me.”

“You were leaving on Wednesday? I’d have been so mad.”

“You have been mad at me all day anyway! How does it matter what day you’re getting mad on!”

“Yeah ok but that was when I thought we were going to chill at home the whole week. I didn’t know you were going to leave me alone after just three days. What is this meeting about?”

Obviously you had to lie now because there was no meeting. “It’s with a client. Boring stuff.” You dismissed, not knowing how to continue the story, but he kept looking at you with his inquisitive eyes.

He loved listening to you talk. “Tell me more?”

“She has a chain of luxury hotels in Europe and my team handles the account. She couldn’t fly to us, so I’m being made to fly to her. There’s some new expansions that need to be sorted out.”

“She could live anywhere in Europe and she chose Iceland?”

“It’s her hometown, Yugyeom.”

“Why couldn’t she fly to you?”

“She usually does, but there was a family priority, I think.”

“I’m presuming we’re staying at her hotel?”

“Yeah. She was really nice about it too. She insisted on us staying there the whole week.”

“I don’t think we have clothes for the cold though.”

“It’s alright, I packed two of your coats. If we go out, we’ll survive. If.”

“Noona, I will survive. I don’t think you will.”

“I’ll find a way, Gyeom. You promise you’re not mad anymore? It’s like a 16 hour flight. We really don’t have to go, if you don’t want to. I’ll just reschedule my flight to Wednesday.”

“One week in a hotel, just us, with you freezing and clinging to me the whole time? Sounds pretty perfect to me.”

You hit him lightly on his shoulder for poking fun at you, but you could live with that.

“Jeez... did you have to give me a hard time all this while.”

“I’m really sick of planes and you weren’t telling me anything!”

“I know baby, you whiny baby, I’m sorry.” You tiptoed and gave him a little peck on his cheek. “Let’s check-in and then you can watch me embarrass myself on the rink, okay?”

An evil smile spread on his face at the thought of that. He had no intentions of agonising you, but seeing you bothered by it gave him a little sadistic pleasure. He actually could hardly wait to teach you how to ice skate; he’d been wanting to do that for so long. He’d tried so many times to get you to skate with him but it almost always led to a fight. That’s how much you hated it. This time felt like a golden ticket and he intended to use it fully.

You got your boarding passes within minutes, considering you had arrived two hours ahead of the advised time and headed towards the rink that was inside the airport.

“Wait a second, have you eaten anything at all?” He asked, prematurely skeptical about your answer.

“I’m not eating before your ice skating shtick.”

He laughed. You always felt this slight elation when something you’d say would make his bones tickle. You were convinced that you were fulfilling at least a quarter part of your life’s purpose.

Yugyeom wasted no time in heading towards the reception, to rent the paraphernalia for the rink. The worst thing about Ice Forest, for you, was that it wasn’t an enclosed area. So, while it solved the ‘exceptionally cold inside an ice skating rink’ problem, anybody passing by could see you fail and that made matters worse; because not only were you shy and self conscious, you had a considerable amount of social anxiety that made you fearful of how people would laugh when you couldn’t do something a 9 year old child could do.

“It’ll be fine, noona, you’re with me.” He tried to ease your nerves, pulling you towards one of the pillar benches and handing you the items.

You’d been on a rink just once in your life before, when you were 15, and you had managed to fall and become the butt of every joke at school. That incident was etched in your mind as one of the most embarrassing, traumatic moments that you never wanted to relive again. Yet here you were, twelve years later, waiting for history to repeat itself.

You weren’t even going to acknowledge how ridiculous you looked with the helmet and knee pads.

Unwillingly, as Yugyeom took your hands in his, you got up.

You knew you had the worst expression on your face because you were terrified.

Most of the times, you refused to participate in anything remotely related to sports and games, even video games because multitasking was not your forté and because you were afraid of being judged for how terrible you would be at it.

“What are you so scared of, noona?” he asked, looking deeply into your eyes, trying to comfort you. “I won’t let you get hurt.”

“You’re gonna be the first one to laugh at me when I fall”, you sulked

“I won’t let you fall. Trust me.”

He looked at you sincerely, with his soft, brown eyes and nudged you to move on the ice after letting go of your hands. “Hold out your arms in line with your chest, keep them straight and take a tiny step forward. But push your knees inwards” he repeated, “Keep your body straight, and turn your knees just a little towards each other.”

Then he got closer and spoke in this low, sultry voice you knew all too well. “You remember that time I got frisky with you at the restaurant while we were out with everyone? And you had your thighs closed but your legs were far apart, to keep my hands from reaching… you know….. inside? Kinda like that.”

“Oh my god, Yugyeom, shut up.” You blushed, not expecting to be reminded of that night so unceremoniously. “I got the point the first time!”

He laughed, basking in the glory of how red his words had just made you.

“You’re awful.” You wanted to beat the crap out of him.

“Am I?” He winked and glided away from you, smoothly. “I know you wanna kill me, but you’re gonna have to get a hold of me.”

You had no option except to do as he instructed. Your breathing was short and your heart beat drummed loudly in your ears. Luckily for you, there weren’t many people in the vicinity, so even if you did fall, it wouldn’t be that embarrassing. You could deal with four people you’d never see again, as opposed to twenty who’d think of you as the scaredy-cat who couldn’t stand still on ice.

He taught you how to walk with the skates first and you had mixed feelings about the endeavour. However, you were fascinated with how much information he had stored in his brain on the subject. While you were struggling with keeping your balance, it wasn’t as difficult a task as you had expected it to be. You’d take your left foot forward and bring your right foot at the same level as your left foot. Then take your right foot forward and bring your left foot at the same level and repeat the process.

“You wanna try skating?” He asked, after feeling confident that you could at least go a few paces without falling . “You can take support of the railing when you give it a try. Though i don’t think you need it.”

“You want me to walk to the railing?”

“Seems like the only option here?”

“Goddammit” you cursed, centering yourself and going through everything he’d told you to keep in mind. In your head you repeated ‘you can do it’, almost like a mantra. Really, you had no other option but to, because, even though you joked about it, you did not want to fall on the face ice while wearing jeans in front of the one guy you wanted to actually impress. That level of embarrassment was too much for you to be a part of.

He watched you breath in heavily as you took the first step towards the edge of the rink. You looked like a kid learning to take their first steps and all he wanted to do was pull your cheeks. You looked way too adorable. He orbited really closely around you, so that if you did lose balance, he’d be nearby to break your fall.

“Waaah noona!!!” He excitedly clapped when your hands grabbed the steel. “You did so well! See, it’s not that bad!”

“It was….awful.”

He pouted. “It wasn’t bad, you just don’t wanna admit it.”

He was right, in a way. In spite of all the anxiety this was causing you, you felt quite accomplished for having walked that distance without falling. But did you want to push your luck? That was still up for debate.

“Just….. try okay? He showed you the technique and stood some paces away, in front of you. “Skate towards me. You’ll fall on me, if you do. Push yourself forward and keep your knees bent.”

You could feel the sweat accumulating in your palms, but you did as he instructed. With every stride you took forward, he went a little away; like baiting a cat with tuna.

There was a massive grin on his face, watching you skate like that. He’d always had that faith in you that you seemed to have lost in yourself.

“You’re so good at this, noona. See, I told you, you could do it. There was nothing to be scared of, at all.”

You couldn’t help but feel happy, even though your body was cold and sweaty at the same time; and you wanted nothing more than to just collapse on a bed and hide under your blankets for ten months.

“I think I pushed my luck enough for today.” You finally spoke, suddenly feeling extremely aware of your surroundings. “And I’m really hungry now.”

The minute he heard you say you wanted food, he sprung to action, skating towards the exit so he could take off all the gear. “You’re going to have to actually leave the rink by yourself”, he grinned victoriously, making you spend a couple extra minutes on the ice.

There had been a few times, since you started dating Yugyeom 5 months ago, that you really just wanted to deck him in the face. And while this was one of them, the only reason he got lucky was because you needed to focus on not falling and that was obviously more important.

When you finally made it out, and removed your helmet, he hugged you tightly, almost lifting you in the air and gave you a kiss. “I am so proud of you. You got through an hour of that and didn’t fall once! I fell down like 10 times the first time I started learning. Easy-peasy you got this.”

“You know, if I knew planning this surprise would cost me an hour of….my worst nightmare, I would not have done it.”

He rolled his eyes at you for being dramatic. “Would you rather have called me oppa for a day?”

“No I’d rather a Boeing 747 flattened me on the runway.”

“Wow, mean. Okay, I’m going to return these” he gestured at the mess that was on the floor besides you, “and then we’re going to put some food in that tiny stomach of yours.”

~

You spent a good hour and a half at Yugyeom’s go-to cafe, inside the airport and in spite of it, were left with more time to goof around at the arcades. But even that adrenaline rush was not enough to counter the jitteriness of the vacation ahead.

You’d never had a whole week with Yugyeom, without other people always being around. Mostly because work demanded so much of time that sometimes when his schedule was open, yours wasn’t and vice versa; so instead of splitting between all the people he wanted to spend time with, he found it more conducive to chill with everyone in one place.

The celebratory thing was that you got along well with all of them. At least well enough that 70% of the times you would be surrounded by someone or the other and while you loved that, every once in a while you wished you could cuddle with him without the sound of BamBam ewing in the background. You were really looking forward to just being with him and so was he, but he was a lot more nervous than he’d let on.

His friends had unintentionally served as a buffer between you and him, never allowing space for any awkward silences, in a relatively new relationship.

2 months of friendship and 5 months of dating felt like a long time, yes, but not long enough. He’d had casual flings last longer than the amount of time he’d been committed to you. Yes, he was your boyfriend but he couldn’t remember a time when it had just been the two of you with no activity involved, unless you were sleeping. Of course you went on the few dates in the beginning, but your mutually hectic schedules either begged for peaceful night-ins, where you’d watch something on Netflix together and fall asleep or walk into either one’s house at half past 1 in the morning and quietly slide into the bed without waking the other person up. Not to say that you couldn’t spend time alone with each other—if the past 2 hours were to be taken into consideration—but you can sit in a café and eat food only for so long before one of you realises how big a mistake you’d made.

So, safe to say he was lowkey stressed about the what ifs of the week long vacation. Admittedly, it was a baseless musing- you’d never gotten bored in each other’s company- but seven days just suddenly felt like a lot.

“What world are you lost in, babe?” You nudged, when he didn’t reply to your question about going towards the departure gate.

He looked so focused on his chain of thought, it made you curious.

“I was just thinking, I won’t have to wear any clothes all week and more importantly, you won’t either.” Even though he pretended to be joking, that was one of the biggest pros running around in his head trying to combat the not-so-positive what ifs.

“Excuse me?”

“You know it’s true.”

“Speak for yourself, lad.” You retorted, digging your elbow into his flesh.

“You’re making me travel for an extra day, you can’t say no to me.”

“I already gave up an hour of my life in exchange for your silence. Don’t make fight you. I will fist fight you.”

“Sure, try me, noona.” He laughed, grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you into a tight back hug. “You can’t even wiggle out of my arms.”

“That’s only because I don’t want to”

But then he did the one thing you absolutely hated the most — wet kisses on your cheeks.

“Ew ew ew ew ew, stop it!” you whined, now trying to run away from him.

“No, it’s because you can’t.”

In spite of his take on the situation five minutes ago, he was still quite excited to annoy you more. He’d been slow to reach the realisation, but there literally was going to be no one to disturb him. He was worried about being alone with you but he didn’t fully process that he was going to be….. alone with you. He could do as he pleased. He could sleep in all day, if he wanted to; eat whatever and, more importantly, whenever; wrap himself around you if he wanted to;  maybe agonise you with his dancing,  like he sometimes did—nothing, absolutely nothing, was off-limits. And just like that a big smile spread on his face. While the nervousness didn’t miraculously vanish, he did feel slightly better.

That last thought and lots of sleep were going to get him through the long hours of airtime.

“Wait, what? This says business class.” Yugyeom looked at you worriedly as you pulled out the passes, ready to board the flight. How had he missed that detail?

“I…. know?”

“Who paid for this?”

“The company.” What a load of bullshit.

“Noona, don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! I told you they’re flying me out.”

“Why would they pay for my ticket?”

“Because I’m the boss. They do whatever I ask them to do.” you reassured him. “Don’t worry about the money, Gyeomie, please?”

He didn’t continue the conversation, but wasn’t convinced one bit.

Once inside the massive plane, it didn’t take too long to get settled in — considering you only had two small handbags to take care of; and with your book and drawing pad already tucked in at an arm's length, for easy access, you waited patiently for the flight to take off. Yugyeom didn’t waste any time in utilising your shoulder as his pillow, only till he could lower his seat and finally sleep. He needed the damn plane to cross the stratosphere as soon as possible.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gently, making his body tingle. He loved that sensation, it made him drowsy immediately.

By the time the plane took off, he was sound asleep; and so was your shoulder.

He was a big boy and you were half his size. It was only natural that his body weight would be a bit much for you to deal with, for a long time, but you couldn’t have disturbed him; he looked so peaceful.

Some hours later, unexpected turbulence jolted him out of his slumber and it confused him thoroughly. It was that weird category of unsettling naps that left him more disoriented than relaxed.

The commotion he caused made you unplug your earphones.

“You okay, baby? Need anything?”

He looked at you, drowsiness written all over his face, and shook his head.

“You want to lower the seat and sleep properly?”

He nodded.

He looked so cute and pouty when you got up to sort him out. Honestly, all you wanted to do was to be on top of him and keep kissing his lips until they were red and swollen.

In those movies you’d watched as a young-adult, you never bought that image they sold, of people looking perfect and beautiful right after waking up, but you still believed it existed. As you grew up, you began to recognise the unrealistic standard mass media widely propagated and that “real people” weren’t like this. You’d dated enough and woken up next to enough of them to fully believe that everyone, including you, looked like a used wet wipe after waking up.

And then you met Yugyeom. You couldn’t decide if he didn’t fall under the category of real people or was he just that beautiful that even with his untamed black locks and drool marks running down the side of his lips, he was the most endearing sight you’d ever laid your eyes on.

You wiped off the semi-dry trail of saliva off his face, and gave him a small peck on his cheek.

As soon as his seat lowered and the backrest lay flat at a slight angle, he adjusted his 6ft body to fit comfortably into the makeshift bed. It was a feat achieved with much tossing and turning, but achieved nonetheless. You handed him the pillow and resisted tucking him fully, under the soft blanket and the only thought in your mind was how you couldn’t wait to snuggle up with him everyday.

Somewhere between admiring his face and reading a book, your ability to sleep anywhere, anytime triumphantly took over and you dozed off in your seat, resting your head by the window.

When you woke up— a little bit bamboozled about when you’d fallen asleep in the first place — your book had already been tucked into the little pocket next to your seat and there was an extra blanket wrapped around you, packing you like a burrito. Yugyeom was already awake.

It took you thirty seconds to remember why you were on the plane.

“Noona, you feeling hungry? They got the food when you were knocked out and I didn’t want to wake you up.” He asked, gently stroking your cheeks. You snuggled and yawned, looking at him blankly, pouting for not knowing what you wanted to do.

He wanted to bite your nose, you looked like a little sleepy bunny, but instead, settled for a second question.

“Wanna watch a movie with me?”

Tilting your head to see what was playing on the screen, you shifted your weight onto his chest and shoulder. He flung his arm around you and pulled you toward him the best he could, with the hand rest separating the two of you. You watched him lazily, as he attached the second pair of headphones to the iPad – bless him for carrying the two-pin outlet.

It didn’t seem like much, but he felt really content in the moment.

You dozed off again after eating some food and he absentmindedly played with your hair until sleep caught up with him as well, for a third time.

He’d been on long flights before, they’d always bored him, but in spite of having spent 10 out of the fifteen hours already, he’d not actually felt the time pass by slowly, like he was used to. It eased up his doubts a bit more, because if just holding your hand made time go by at such speed, 7 days might just fly by.

His eyes fluttered open an hour later, to you drinking black coffee and reading the book he’d pried out if your hold at the beginning.

He didn’t know what timezone he was in yet and he was a tad bit cranky because this time he’d woken up with an unwarranted boner.

“Good morning, sleepy baby”

He scrunched his nose at the sound of your voice. “When do I get to crush you under me.”

“So impatient?”

He nodded, pouting like a little lost five year old, who just wanted his candy.

“I woke up with a problem.” He explained, but the tone he took sent a shiver down your spine.

“Aww” you chuckled, “Just some hours more, then you can do as you please.”

You didn’t look up from your book. You knew you could get him even more riled up if you ignored him, but also, you didn’t want to get tempted by his needy expressions.

“But… I want you now.”

“Jeez, Yugyeom, keep it in your pants.”

“What if I don’t wanna?”

“Then go take care of it yourself?”

“You won’t help?” He asked, evidently betrayed.

You bit your lower lip seductively and this time, held his gaze. “You want help?” you asked deviously, “Okay, I’ll help. but I won’t let you finish.”

He was taken aback by the demand. Not like it was the first time - you were a little freak when you wanted to be - he just wasn’t expecting it right at that moment.

“That’s ridiculous, noona. What do you mean you won’t let me.”

“I mean, I won’t let you.”

“I can just do it myself later?”

“No, that’s not how it works. You’re going to sit here and I’m going to have my way with you, until you wish you’d never asked for my help.”

He whined because you were serious. “You know boners hurt if we don’t jack off.”

You bent over closer to him and bit his earlobe, while slipping your hand discreetly under his blanket, resting it on the belt of his jeans, “I know. Still want my help?”

He took in a deep breath, tempted to challenge you. “What if I don’t listen to you?”

“You’re alone with me for seven days, baby. You really wanna try that? You don’t know what all I have in my bag.”

Your hand moved to his crotch, over his jeans, making him gasp.

“Tell me, you still want it?”

After stealing a glance around, to see if anyone was particularly interested in the shallow gasps Yugyeom was exhaling, you unzipped him.

“Oh fuck, noona.”

“Yeah baby?”

He gave you his best bedroom eyes, hoping you’d give in, tracing your jawline with his long, slender fingers. “Please get me off” he begged.

You pecked him on his lips, “No” and proceeded to stroke him over his boxers.

He didn’t want you to stop, but he was already dangerously close to hitting his limit because your casual teasing had escalated to firm gripping. Slipping in his hand under the blanket, he interlocked his fingers with yours, so you could no longer touch him.

“You’re awful.”

“Am I?”

“We will settle this once we have our room.

You smirked, knowing you had won, because while he couldn’t resist you, he also gave in to your unreasonable demand. Sighing, he let go of your hand and got up to go sort himself out in the tiny washroom. Getting anywhere with the conversation was going to be a futile process; he knew that, because you wouldn’t cave. He wondered maybe if he could will it away, he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. You infuriated him, when you controlled him like that, but it also got him feeling way hotter than it should. He wasn’t used to women saying no to him; that too with such an arrogant expression on their face. Usually they dropped to their knees whenever he asked them to. But you knew how to get your way with him every time, like you‘d cast a spell on him.

When he got back to his seat, after an agonising 15 minutes where he had to think of car crashes and math problems to get flaccid, you were engrossed in your book like nothing had transpired between you at all. You were unperturbed by his return, but clung onto his arm as soon as he was settled.

“Noo, after what you just did, you don’t get any cuddles.”

“Pretty please” you pouted.

He was so weak for your pout, he couldn’t say no to you resting your head on his shoulder.

The last few hours on the flight were dragging, because all that the two of you wanted, was to feel earth beneath your feet. Two more movies later, the flight attendant finally made the announcement you’d been dying to hear.

Your instinct was to look outside the window and the beauty of the view left you in awe. The mountains and glaciers were so close, yet so far out of reach, you wished you could free fall into the seamless white that seemed to cover the island like a blanket.

“Wait how are we getting to the hotel?” Yugyeom interrupted your stream of thought.

“By car. It’s all been taken care of.”

“Wow you must have really got them some serious business. I have never seen anyone’s client treat them this nice?”

“That’s because I’m not ‘anyone’ and she’s a really good person who happens to like me.”

He rolled his eyes and put on his, and for some reason your seatbelt for you, as well.

“Gee, thanks dad.”

“You mean daddy?”

“No.”

“Someday we are going to fight and the only way I will listen to you is if you call me daddy.”

Your whole body cringed at the thought of that. “Ew. First of all, decide. Is it daddy or oppa and second of all, never, not a chance in hell”, you emphasised, as he looked more and more amused.

When the plane began its descent, the butterflies in your stomach intensified. You were anxious about coming across hoardings of guided walks for the northern lights as soon as you touched land, which was a little worrisome - they could potentially ruin the whole surprise element to this whole trip and expose your roose pretty fast.

Even though your brain was riddled with this weird feeling, to him, you were the only woman to exist, ever. He couldn’t stop admiring you; at how your eyes lit up at the scenic beauty, or the little smile that settled on your face.

“Omg” he saw you gasp, “that whole area looks like a face!” You made him giggle with the things that excited you and he wanted to listen to you for as long as he could. He struggled a little, when you urgently smacked his arms and pulled him to look through the window.

“I can’t see” he whined, trapped by the seat belt.

“Aw, it’s okay. Our room has the best view, I’ll find a face there somewhere too.”

“How do you know?”

“I booked it, of course I know?”

“I thought you said this was a work thing? They let you book your own room?”

“Yes, Sherlock. To be more specific my client called me to ask if I wanted the same room I had stayed in, once before. And I said yes.”

“Aww, she said yes.”

You rolled your eyes at how childish he was being, while the announcement for having arrived at the Reykjavík airport went off inside. It was a smooth landing, surprisingly. You'd never experienced smooth landings; it was the one part of flying that gave you the most amount of jitters.

He handed you your giant coat, as you made your way out of the plane; after thanking the flight crew for making it such a pleasant experience.

Heading straight towards the baggage claim, it didn’t take as long as you had expected, to get done with getting your bags and dealing with immigration. It worked in your favour because you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, because you feared he’d read something related to the aurora borealis. Hurrying towards the exit gates to head out, you shivered every time the automated doors flung open.

“You’re not going to be fine in the cold.” Yugyeom sighed, ready to open the bag to cover you in more warm clothes.

“I’ll be fine, we just have to sit in a car after this, come on” you pushed him outside and asked him to look for a sign with your name on it, to keep him occupied.

“This is like proper vip treatment, huh.” He said, after your chauffeur for the day spotted you in the crowd and led you to the limousine.

The hotel was a little on the outskirts of the city; so it was a long 1 hour drive, which Yugyeom spent looking into his phone with his pods plugged in. This way he missed out on a lot of giant guided-tour hoardings throughout the journey. The thought of seeing the northern lights hadn’t crossed him yet and you just clung onto the little hope you had that the situation would stay in your favour until he actually saw them.

When the car took a sharp right, he looked up and let out an audible gasp. He was expecting a well maintained, humble building and instead was greeted by a magnificent piece of architecture.

Wait, is this where we’re staying?” He asked, visibly shocked.

“Uhhh….. yeah? Why?”

“I- just was expecting something else. Wow the owner of this hotel is your client? I thought it’d be some cute airbnb style place. This is intense.”

You chuckled at his innocence, “You thought a cute, airbnb-style chain of hotel will use us for marketing and PR?” and stepped into the atrium. Yugyeom followed suit, like a lost puppy, now admiring the rustic building from inside.

“Oh! You’re here!” Someone exclaimed from behind the heavy curtains of the reception. “Why didn’t you call me?”

A smile made its way to your face. “I didn’t want to disturb you, Marie” The 30-something lady had a sweet voice and an accent Yugyeom had never heard before. He watched this interaction with much interest, but barely any understanding, until she got introduced to him as the owner.

“Nice to meet you” he greeted, politely.

“Very nice to meet you too, Mr. Kim.”

“Oh no, please call me Yugyeom.”

She smiled, kindly. “I hope you both enjoy your stay and if you need anything, you know how to reach me. Do not hesitate to call, at all.”

“I’m sure I won’t have to, for anything else other than to meet you”, you responded, “Thank you so much for arranging everything”.

“Of course, it’s the least I could do.” she replied in a hurry. “I have a meeting, I should have been on the road for already. Please forgive me I will have to catch up with you later, if you have some spare time. I have a few ideas.”

Yugyeom found what Marie said particularly interesting. He was under the impression that you had the meeting set up, already. He didn’t say anything about it, but if your expression was anything of a giveaway, his hunch was probably right.

“Aron will take care of everything for you,” Marie suggested before heading outdoors. On cue, Aron escorted you to the east wing of the property, where your home for the next week was situated. He was an extremely, young, kind gentleman and explained the amenities as concisely as he possibly could, while showing you around the rooms. He poured you a glass of champagne each, and took his leave after re-checking every detail, so you could be completely comfortable.

Yugyeom contained his composure in front of the stranger, but his jaw fell open as soon as you were alone.

“Why do we have a lounge room and a garden? And a jacuzzi in the garden? Noona, this place is excessive. You said room…. this is a whole house!” he exclaimed feeling a sudden burst of energy as he took in his current surroundings.

It was a beautifully situated lodge. Since the hotel was not in the main city, it was surrounded by a vast expanse of green land, that was also hotel property. The main hotel, a 10-storey structure, was in the centre, surrounded by luxury lodges  scattered and well spaced out all over the property - some facing the hills, some facing the bay and a lucky few getting the best of both worlds. You had managed to snag the one that had the hills in your peripheral vision on the left and straight ahead, the ocean line. It was a breathtaking view. Especially since it was all currently snow clad.

You wanted to sit in the garden and enjoy the uninterrupted view, in spite of the chill; but you chugged your champagne and fell flat on the soft bed instead. It made you realise just how exhausted the travel had left you. More than anything, your limbs felt sore from being in the same position for such an elongated period of time.

The room was unbelievably spacious, but so cozy you could fall asleep again, especially with your body clock now realising the time difference. Yugyeom took the opportunity to lay on top of you and began to give you soft kisses on your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Hmmm……this is nice. It feels like a massage of sorts.”

“I can give you a massage, if you want, noona.”

“No, just stay like this. I like this.”

He giggled and continued showering you with kisses, until you spoke again.

I have a confession to make.” you began but he continued for you.

“There’s no meeting? I know.”

You looked at him sheepishly. “You figured it out, huh.”

“It wasn’t too tough.”

“Sorry I lied about it.”

“It’s alright, baby. Why did you do all this? You didn’t have to”, he replied.

“I know I didn’t have to…. but, I wanted to.”

“You spent so much on it. We could have done this on your bed.”

“I really didn’t spend much, I just got the tickets.”

“So you did get the tickets.”

“Yeah sorry I lied about that too”, you bit your tongue.

He pulled the comforter over you both and hugged you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll let it slide if you spoon me right now.”

“No, I don’t wanna sleep again.” You complained, fighting to stay awake, but pulled him closer into a tighter hug.

“Just for two minutes” he whispered, constantly pecking your neck, softly.

It felt peaceful, just being there with him, and there was no other place you’d rather be.

Yugyeom’s rhythmic breathing, on your skin, made you drowsy pretty quickly,  absolutely against your will. Apart from hurting in odd places, you weren’t used to not being awake at that hour, since according to KST it was probably post midnight. And even though it felt like you’d spent the last twenty four hours just sleeping, you couldn’t help but give in to the cozy sheets and Yugyeom’s warm embrace.

~

When you finally came to, it felt like you’d lost 10 hours of your life to the unwarranted nap. Even the purpose of it was somewhat defeated. Because not only did you wake up absolutely hungry, but also with a bouldering headache. You snuggled a little with your boyfriend, who was still passed out like a light, hoping sleep would find its way back to you, but the hammering inside your brain wouldn’t allow it. Your only remaining option was to get up and order food and an Advil.

Careful to not disturb him, you made your way outside, into the garden, which was also an exceptionally bad idea, as you hadn’t worn your coat. Your dumb brain chose to shiver and almost freeze, instead of taking 10 extra steps.

It was already the onset of nighttime when it dawned on you that maybe in a few hours, if you were blessed enough, the sky would shine on you. You sent Marie a text, just to ask about your chances; and she suggested not to get your hopes up high for the first day, because of the unpredictability of the phenomenon. Basically you needed your rotten luck to go on a vacation for just one week so that life could turn out to be perfect.

Yugyeom woke up when the room service rolled in, making your suite smell like an assortment of breads, Italian spices and tomato sauce.

After scanning the room for traces of you and not finding any, he sent a text. “Did you order pepperoni pizza?” He sleepily typed, stretching his long body.

His locked screen popped up with an “Of course I did.” in response and he smiled. You knew his food palette much better than he’d expected. Even the pre-booked flight meal was the one he preferred and it surprised him when you said you’d remembered it from a conversation you had before you started dating . The fact that you had paid attention to what he liked, all these months, gave him a fuzzy feeling in his body, making him want to envelope you in his arms.

He found you sunken into the couch, in the living area, watching videos on youtube and wriggled in to rest his head on your lap.

“Baby, don’t fall asleep again” you said, your attention still on the video. “You’ll stay up the whole night then.”

“I do plan to keep you up the whole night, so maybe you should be the one getting some extra sleep?”

“Ugh don’t talk about sleep. I did that thing where I sleep too much and get a headache”, you groaned.

“I can distract you from your headache by giving you other pains?”, he laughed as you smacked him on the chest for that, followed by an intense, mind-numbing kiss. He was so annoying and so cute, at the same time, you just couldn’t help it. His smile always melted you in seconds, which wasn’t great for all those times he’d piss you off. He’d say sorry, flash a smile and you’d be done for.

“Don’t be cheeky or you won’t get any at all tonight.”

“Is that a challenge? I can get you out of your clothes without even trying, noona.”

You eyed him with a smirk on your face but didn’t retaliate.

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asked, stuffing his face with pizza.

“I’m thinking of maybe taking a shower. I feel filthy.”

“Already? We haven’t even done anything.”

“Shut up. I meant actual germs. But my head is aching which is why I ordered the food — to eat the medicine. But now I’m confused.”

“What am I going to do with you”, he sighed, handing you one slice. “Eat this and then take the medicine and hand me your phone.”

“Why?”

“So that you don’t go back to watching youtubers on that tiny screen.”

“Let me watch my youtubers in peace, okay.” you scoffed, trying to keep your phone out of his reach. Why you were even trying was beyond him, because all he had to do was stretch his hands a little bit more and your face was completely squished against his chest, with the phone out of your grasp.

“You’re going to eat the pizza or pasta, whichever, and the medicine. Until then, you’re not allowed back inside nor are you getting your phone. Okay?’

“Fine.” You weren’t too happy about this, but it was cute when he took care of you. He always took care of you.

“Good girl”, he replied, giving a kiss on your forehead and then locked the door behind him.

“You don’t actually have to lock me out of the bedroom, Yugyeom” he heard you yell.

“It’s staying shut till you’re done eating your food”, he yelled back, walking into the garden. His real purpose was to get the jacuzzi working.

It’s the least he could do for you. Besides, it was his chance to settle the score and he was planning on making it very difficult for you to say no to him this time.

The night sky greeted him with a pitch black canvas decorated with chilly winds. For a moment he really considered calling Aron to set up the bath, just to avoid touching the freezing faucets, but it was already dangerously close to midnight and he didn’t want to be a wuss.

He remembered what you’d said about the view being phenomenal. He’d seen it briefly earlier, but even in the darkness, it really was. The faint silhouette of the mountains gave him strength to persevere with his endeavour.

After getting the water flow working, he went back, to find you still slumped on the couch. Luckily, the medicine was gone.

“Wanna go skinny dipping?”

“Skinny dipping? Where?” You asked him, confused. If he was about to suggest the pool anywhere in the hotel you were ready to launch a spoon at him.

“I got the jacuzzi working.”

You got up immediately, with a bright smile on your face and sped past him, already undressing. “Last one in the tub has to do all the packing when we leave.”

“Hey! No fair!” he followed, almost tumbling over his own feet.

He obviously lost the bet, because you were already grinning and enjoying the warm bubbling water, while he was still trying to get out of his black skinny jeans.

“You’re the worst.” he shivered in the cold, before settling in next to you.

“You know this technically isn’t skinny dipping, right?”

“You want to talk about technicalities or focus on the fact that I got you naked in a bathtub?”

“You got me naked in a bathtub, now what?” you asked, changing positions to sit on top of him.

Your hair was tied up in a messy bun, to avoid getting it wet and he simply couldn’t resist kissing your exposed neck.

When his teeth tugged at your skin, it made you hum with pleasure. With your eyes now shut and your hands already tracing his bare skin, you knew his body like it was the route to your home. You knew where to go to make him giggle and what spot to find to make him squirm.

“Depends”, he replied, finally letting go of the skin he’d been ravaging, which was now a different shade. “We could fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Or we could count the stars.”

“Count the stars? On your face? Yeah I could do that.” You nodded, giving a peck on the mole near his lips.

“You silly baby.” He laughed, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“Whaaaaat? Why am I silly?”

“Because stars are in the sky.”

“But... my whole universe is in front of me.”

“Waaah noona, I thought you hated being cheesy.”

“Shut up”, you rolled your eyes, but you noticed he was no longer paying attention to you. Something in the sky had caught him by surprise.

“Woah what the fuck!” he exclaimed excitedly, “is that…. what i think it is?”

You looked up, hoping and praying that the sky was painted with introductory streaks of green that had rendered your boyfriend absolutely speechless.

Yugyeom was too distracted to notice you slide off his thighs. It was quite unexplainable really, the feeling that you got from staring at the aurora borealis. You felt this budding excitement, within you, as the earth’s magnetic shield created magic in the pitch black sky.

But you didn’t know if the warmth in your heart was because of the northern lights or the happiness on Yugyeom’s face. He had this wondrous grin, full of intrigue and amazement; as he stared at the countless little bursts of light for, while you gazed at him.

It was a miracle in itself that you had somehow managed to avoid all the potential spoilers Ryejavík could have given you, about viewing the one thing it was most famous for. But it was even more astonishing that this thought never occurred to Yugyeom on its own either.

You weren’t complaining at all though, because now you could actually relax and not worry about something accidentally ruining the ‘surprise’. You’d known there always was a chance of stumbling across something that mentioned the aurora, but you’d really really prayed on a falling star to let that not happen.

Twenty minutes after giving the green sky his full attention, he finally caught you looking at him and his brain, on cue, connected all the dots.

“Noona…. is this why we’re here? So that I could see the northern lights?” He spoke softly, his voice wavering.

Leaning in, you nodded, removing a stray strand of hair from his line of vision. To say that he was overwhelmed by your gesture, would have been an understatement. Because he’d been surprised before - birthday parties, weekend trips - the whole shabang; but they were never things that he truly wanted to do. He did them because they were fun and he got to hang out with his friends, of course, but they were never tailor-made for him. This too, he had presumed, would be one such trip. Where you’d do fun stuff and have a great time and he would have loved and appreciated it just as much. However, seeing the aurora borealis had been on his bucket list for the longest time and you had planned for it to happen meticulously, for no one else but him. No one had ever done anything this intense for him.

He felt teary-eyed so quickly, he broke off the eye contact he’d held with you and looked up.

You slipped your arm around him and took in the ethereal display of coloured lights, shimmering across the night sky.

Even though Yugyeom was completely silent, he was experiencing an emotional avalanche he couldn’t quite explain.

“Thank you.” He managed to say, after a long while, when the spectacle had gotten over and the sky had reverted to its original status of being a blank slate.

“For what, baby?”

“For all of this, for everything. I gave you such a hard time yesterday. You were ready to cancel the plan because I was being a dick.” He pouted sadly, wanting to kick his own arse for having behaved like that.

“It’s okay, you were tired. I’d have been mad too.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You never get mad at anything I do.”

That’s not true, I was really mad about the ice skating.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, of course I was. You knew I was.”

“I don’t know, I was hoping you were bluffing it.”

“Babe, you know I hate skating.”

“Yeah and you still did it without putting up a fight. Why?”

“Because…… you were so annoyed. I didn’t want you to be mad at me!”

“See, this is what I mean. You drive me insane. Sometimes, I really can’t figure you out.” He sighed, pulling you back into his chest, so he could hold you, and possibly never let you go. “And...I’m really sorry.”

“Actually, you are the silly baby”, you teased, kissing his cheek to make him feel better. “You know, I was so scared you’d realise that you could chase the aurora borealis in Iceland and like….. ruin the surprise.”

“I never realised this is what you were up to. I’d always thought I’d see it if I ever get to go to Alaska, so it never crossed my mind. I do feel really dumb.”

“Well…”

“Don’t say it.” He warned.

“You are kinda dumb, so….” you said anyway and he caught you in a playful chokehold.

“You’re lucky I love you, noona and let you get away with it when you say all this.”

Since his chain of thought so unceremoniously slipped out of his consciousness, for a fraction of a second, he was little taken aback with his own words. He always assumed he’d be very aware for a good period of time before telling his significant other that he loved them. But here, there was no overthinking it, no special effort, no big gestures to confess either. It was a spontaneous display of his natural, authentic, unadulterated emotion - something he’d never experienced before.

“What?” You turned around to face him.

He’d never told you he loved you, so it came as a tiny 60 Watts shock when he said it so matter-of-factly.

“What?” he asked.

“You….. said you love me?”, you confirmed, “Do you know you said you love me?”

“I know I said I love you. Because I love you.”

You were caught unaware, by his nonchalant confession of love. And even though you reciprocated the emotion, of course you did, still, hearing it so unexpectedly filled your heart with such a wild frenzy you thought it might burst out of your chest.

“I love you too. I love you so so much but, I’m gonna keep calling you dumb so you’re gonna have to just let me get away with it.” you replied, playing with his hair.

“I can live with that.” he smiled, following it with a long, desperate kiss-the kind where he wanted to make you feel so much pleasure you’d be left without any breaths to spare. You sat back in his lap, willing to lose yourself in the faint vanilla scent lingering on his neck. His fingers danced dangerously close to your inner thighs,

“Let’s take this inside”, he breathed, barely audibly. “I wanna do things this jacuzzi won’t allow”

You giggled, nipping his nose cutely, “Okay”.

You got out of the warm water and struggled with the freezing temperature for 5 seconds before wearing the robe, that he’d kept out, which also was freezing, before running inside. He couldn’t help but laugh, as you wobbled across the deck while he took care of the jacuzzi.

In that moment, watching you wait for him inside, he felt foolish for ever being so terrified of spending week alone with you. In that moment, as you took off your robe rather seductively, he was willing to spend an eternity by your side. In that moment, when he locked eyes with you, he couldn’t wait to make you the happiest woman in the universe.

And you couldn’t wait to make him the happiest man in the universe either.

Grey's Anatomy: My Shot (16x08)

Oh, Grey's Anatomy. You wouldn't be you if you didn't have manufactured coincidences popping up around every corner. I loved this episode, for the most part! Let's take a look.

Cons:

So, the thing about doing a medical drama/soap opera is that a lot of really unrealistic stuff has to happen in order to keep the drama quotient up. The characters in this show have been through more trauma than is remotely realistic for any group of people, and over the sixteen seasons of this show, every single character has done stuff that's super illegal and messed up and bad. When you have an episode like this, where Meredith's past gets dredged up, you're forced to realize how completely improbable it is that Meredith would still be allowed to practice medicine in the first place. Or frankly, how Richard and Alex would be allowed to continue, what with committing assault, breaking the law, the list goes on. And that's fine, it doesn't matter most of the time on this show. But when a spotlight is shone on all of the things that have happened over the years, it starts to feel a bit more shark-jumpy than I'm comfortable with.

Also, I can take some cheesiness, but all the patients rushing in to testify for Meredith, and the letter from Cristina, and letters from Addison, Callie, Arizona, April... come on. That's a little much, don't you think? I wanted this to be more grounded in reality. Meredith probably should be taken to task for a lot of what she's done. There could have been a better balance there, with some of her bad behavior actually being condemned. I think they tried to do that with Bailey, but for me it didn't quite stick the landing.

Also Jackson and Maggie - ugh. Please stoppppp. Maggie is really upset after killing her cousin, and Jackson is there to comfort her. I didn't strictly hate this at first, and thought maybe they were going for an easing of the tension, like the two of them could be friendly with each other and stop resenting one another so much. And then Jackson leans in for a kiss, stops himself, and Maggie kicks him out. She tells Meredith: "I hate someone I used to love... I don't want to see or speak to him ever again." That line, about hating someone she used to love, is actually really powerful, and if Jackson and Maggie weren't such a stupid train-wreck, I might really have liked it. But - but why? Why does she hate him? What did he do that was so awful? They had a somewhat crappy relationship and Maggie felt like Jackson didn't respect her, and it fell apart. But Maggie's anger feels misplaced, somehow. I was so happy last week to have a story that was about Maggie that didn't annoy me, since she's become so irritating over the years. And now here, it has to be about Jackson again, doesn't it? Those two were the worst things to ever happen to each other on this show.

Pros:

In perhaps a direct contradiction to what I said above, it was a bit fun to look back over the years and remember all the crazy crap that Meredith has done. Obviously a lot of the context has been stripped away, but the fact remains, she's done a lot of messed up stuff! This episode brings up ancient (yet legendary) history like the LVAD wire, stuff like the Alzheimer's trial, a patient Meredith had on her first day as a doctor, and more recent stuff like Alex assaulting Andrew, and Schmitt being the one to turn Meredith in to Bailey. I'm a sucker for longevity. I like sinking in to a story for a long, long time, and it's cool to do an episode like this where you can actually pull footage from back when George W. Bush was still POTUS and examine a character's life through so many years.

Koracick has a brief role in this episode, and we can mark this as a good appearance for him. They trashed his character early in the season in an attempt to get us on board with Owen/Teddy, but they seem to be softening that approach and rehabilitating him a bit here. He's still a cocky bastard a lot of the time, but when Amelia tells him she needs his help, he immediately agrees, and does everything he can to help the patient. I really love him and hope he gets the happiness he deserves.

And Amelia and Link also have a brief moment, where we see their relationship continue to develop and strengthen. Amelia is worried she might kill the doctor who killed Derek, which is why she lets Koracick do it. That's a sign of maturity and strength from Amelia, her ability to step away and let someone else perform the surgery. And when that man dies on the table, she can be confident that she wasn't to blame. Link comforts her through the confusion of the situation, and it's just another brick in the foundation of trust they are building between them.

I like the DeLuca/Meredith drama, actually. There's this moment when Meredith yells at the doctor who killed Derek, calling Derek "the love of her life," and I immediately thought... oh no. Are we going to do the whole drama thing where DeLuca decides he can't compete with Derek's memory or whatever? But instead, they go for something slightly different. Basically, DeLuca knows he's never going to replace Derek. But he wanted to work towards something, to be Meredith's partner in a real way. He's realizing now that he doesn't have Meredith's respect, that she doesn't view him as an equal, and he worries she never will. He basically breaks up with her, but frames it as giving her a chance to think things over. I like Andrew a lot. I like Andrew and Meredith together, I think it's genuinely interesting. It's not as intense as Meredith and Derek, but the show has done a smart thing by not trying to make it like that. I'm on board for whatever comes next for them, as I think a break-up plot thread with these two might actually be interesting, whether or not they end up together in the end.

The Bailey/Richard dynamic as explored in this episode was really intriguing to me. I was complaining a few weeks ago about Bailey's over-sized reaction to what Meredith did, but here we get more of an explanation. Not only does she feel betrayed by someone that she raised to be a doctor, but she feels betrayed by Richard as well, and feels jealous of the way he will bend the rules for Meredith. We even find out that Meredith didn't originally match with the hospital, and that Richard made a call to make it happen all those years ago. That's such an interesting "sliding doors" moment!  Richard then flips the narrative on Bailey, however, saying that Meredith is family and he'd trust her to back him up the same way he backed her up. He says he feels the same way about Bailey, or he did, before Bailey turned her back on them for their actions.

It's not even necessarily a cruel moment from Richard - he's saying it because he knows now what Bailey is feeling, and he knows how to get underneath that feeling, to an even bigger truth. And it works - Bailey goes back in to the hearing and says that while Meredith Grey is a pain in the ass and deserved consequences for her actions, she's also a fine surgeon and doesn't deserve to lose her medical license. Who knows whether or not that was the tipping point, but at the end of the day, Meredith wins and she's still a doctor!

It was interesting to bring in the doctor whose negligence resulted in Derek's death. Frankly, I vacillated about which section of this review to put my discussion of this in, because I can't quite decide how to feel about it. The whole point here is that Meredith is unconventional, but ultimately very good at her job. She saves lives. It's interesting to contrast that with this man who hasn't broken any rules, but who killed someone. He's not only allowed to remain a doctor, he's allowed to vote on Meredith's fitness to remain a doctor. This is so manifestly unfair that it's clear to the viewer that Meredith is in the right. But this man's presence, and then later the influx of testimonials from patients and fellow doctors, overshadows Meredith's crime. It's interesting in that I wonder if there will be lasting consequences - will she be under heavier scrutiny when it comes to pro bono cases, or will this be the one thing the finally tarnishes her reputation? I'm excited to find out.

Schmitt has the setup for a future plot thread here, as he confesses to being the one to turn Meredith in, unwittingly. As his fellow interns find out, he watches as they lose respect for him, especially Helm. This could be so cool. As I said, it's not as if Meredith doesn't deserve some sort of consequence for her bad behavior. And what was Schmitt supposed to do, just trust on blind faith that this wasn't a mistake, that Meredith had done it on purpose? Was he supposed to put his career on the line for her? That's an unreasonable expectation, and I hope he stands up for himself, with the support of his boyfriend. It's time to start giving some of these characters more screen-time.

That's it! Another long review, for a pretty solid episode. I think next week is the mid-season finale!

8/10

Oppa Knows Best | Part 2

Word Count: 4.3k Genre: Smut, Angst Summary:  If there is anything a lot of people can agree on when it comes to college, it’s that college is about much more than just education; it’s a whole transformative experience.  The person you were before college is not the same person you will be after college, and no one knows the truth of that statement quite like you do. You just didn’t expect to change so much so fast. Chapter Plot: You go back on your promise to Jaehyun, or at least you try to, only to you find out just what he’s willing to do to stop you from sleeping around.  Warnings: This story contains a very unbalanced power dynamic between the two main characters that is unhealthy and shouldn’t be tolerated irl. If someone treats you this way irl please run. This is a fictional story and the plot is basically just a vehicle for the smut. Contains slutshaming and controlling behavior. Also the dirty talk is painfully corny and pornolike so be warned lol. Oppa kink if it wasn’t obvious. Not as edited as it should be rip me  Part 1 and the rest of my masterlist are in my bio bec tumblr is a dick

It’s been a month since your drunken tryst with Jaehyun. You never got the chance to confront him about it, not really anyway. After that chastity agreement he had roped you into, any hope you might’ve had about finally coming clean to him about your feelings was completely dashed to the ground. Unlike the fanciful dreams that dominated your hours of your sleep that night—few but seeming to stretch on forever in your dreamscape of rainbow love and fairy dust—Jaehyun wasn’t interested in a relationship with you—not romantic, not sexual. You had stood there that morning in your new room, after all your stuff had been moved there, with your face cradled between Jaehyun’s hands and his body almost flush with your own, as he sucked you into another one-sided conversation. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have acted out that way. I should be protecting you, not the one hurting you. Please forgive me.” He had entreated, looking glum and downtrodden, thoroughly disappointed in himself. You wanted to tell him that there was nothing to forgive—on the contrary, last night was one of the happiest moments in your life. To touch him, to be one with him, was your longest-lasting dream, and he had given you that last night. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t regret it, but you’d only be exposing yourself to the man who obviously wasn’t on the same page as you.

“I was just so angry and drunk and I tried to prove my point in a really fucked up way. I crossed a line I never dreamed of crossing. I laid my hands on you, my little angel. I hurt you.” He had almost sobbed, clearly distressed and regretful. It broke your heart, because it hurt seeing him in pain, but more so because of the reason for it. In his inconsiderate view that you’re a child and it’s wrong for him to desire you, he deprives you of your own capacity to be a sexual being and have desires of your own for him.   “When you said that thing about not coming here if you had known I would act that way… fuck, that killed me. I couldn’t sleep. It’s all I can about, that I was so stupid that I let my anger put us in danger. I would never forgive myself if I was the reason I lost you. I’m so sorry.” He leaned down even closer to you, eyes boring into your soul and breath gently fanning over your lips in what would’ve been a thrilling prelude to a fiery kiss, if it weren’t for the fact that he was crushing your hopes at ever getting a kiss from him again at this very moment. “All I ever did was for you. Please understand that.” You felt like crying. This wasn’t the fairytale confession you’ve been dreaming of. It seemed foolishly asinine now, but last night you had actually got yourself to thinking you might have a chance with your childhood love. You convinced yourself that the reason he was so riled up was because he felt the same way about you and he got so jealous he couldn’t control himself, like the Tsundere male lead of a cringey drama. But there were no hidden motives behind his protectiveness, and you were left having to continue the scene alone and pretend that the tears that were now streaming down your face were the result of his brash actions last night and not the words he said trying to take them back now as he waited breathlessly for your response, hanging his life on your next words.   “Of course, oppa. I understand.”                                   •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• That had been the start and end of your romance with Jaehyun, a pitiful thing that died even before it was born—or so it had seemed. For a while, Jaehyun seemed truly remorseful about how he acted that night, and he was back to the old Jaehyun you knew, patient and gentle; the furious and impulsive man you had seen that night nowhere to be seen… until you drew him out of hiding, unintentionally this time. “What the hell, Jaehyun? Did you like send out a memo to all the guys on campus to stay away from me or something? You’re ridiculous!” You shout as you burst through the door, your fury preceding you to lash at the unsuspecting man sitting on the living room couch. “I didn’t. You can talk to whoever you want to.” He answers noncommittally, pretending to be oblivious to your actual meaning, but you could see the understanding in his eyes.   A couple of months had passed since then; it made you forget the fearsome side of Jaehyun that he’d shown you for the first time that night, or maybe you were gullible enough to believe you’d seen the end of it, so you innocently make the mistake of confusing his current evasiveness for guilt. But that side of him was still here, perhaps it always was, and it wasn’t guilt he was feeling.   “Stop with the bullshit, Jaehyun. You know that’s not what I meant. Did you warn people not to hook up with me?” You stand in front of him, towering over his seated form and glowering down at him with all your might. By all means, you should be the intimidating party in this situation but Jaehyun doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even bother standing up in order to be level with you. He just glares back at you in a way that makes you feel like a student being given a timeout by their teacher. You had no doubt he’d done it, there was no other explanation as to why you suddenly couldn’t get hookup when you had no trouble finding one before, and all the guys you tried to talk to would try to get away from you as fast as possible as if you had some kind of new, highly contagious, highly incurable STD. Jaehyun is a popular guy, friends with all the guys and crushed on by all the girls. He’s a guy’s guy and the definition of boyfriend material. Not to mention that he is a member of the biggest fraternity on campus. He can be extremely intimidating when he wants to, something you had been aware of ever since you were a kid but had never experienced directly before that night; no one ever dared bully you and when Jaehyun decided that someone was bad news, they weren’t allowed near you again. In short, Jaehyun had both the motive and the means to pull something like this off. You’re not usually one to care what people think of you, but the knowledge that essentially everyone on campus now knows that you’re being cockblocked by your overbearing brother figure is fucking mortifying. “Why were you trying to hook up with someone in the first place?” His voice was calm, but of the deceptive kind, the kind where all the anger had reached a singularity, lulling you into thinking it’s not there, only for it to eat you up when you get closer. “T-that’s not the point!” You falter, somehow feeling like you’re the one who had things to answer for.  “Did you or did you not—“ “Yes, it is.” He spit out, shutting you up. “We had a deal.” “Fuck your deal. This whole thing is dumb anyway. I don’t need you to parental control me. I’m a grown woman and I want sex.” You curse at him, but it sounds insolent and whiny in your shrill and jittery voice, like a sixteen year old petulantly declaring to her dad that she’s not a child anymore. “You can have sex when you’re in a long term committed relationship.” He says with finality as if he was already done discussing this, not the least bit convinced or amused by your act. His words didn’t upset you so much as his dismissiveness of the need for your input on your own sex life had. Jaehyun was never this unreasonable. Yes, he always had strong opinions when it came to you, but he made sure to explain clearly and patiently why he thought what he thought and, almost always, that was enough to convince you that he was right. There were some instances when you weren’t completely convinced by his reasoning, but those were few and far between and he had shown you time and time again that he only wanted the best for you so you always ended up listening to him anyway. You were forever his good girl, but that was because he was a good oppa. Now he was acting more like an overbearing parent than a protective older brother, and it frustrated you. “That could be years from now. I’m horny. I need to have sex now!” “Don’t speak that way. Are you an animal that you can’t control your urges?” He hisses, and you flinch back at the clear distaste in his voice, making tears start to bubble up behind your eyelids. You were entirely out of your depth dealing with a Jaehyun that was on the offensive, let alone a Jaehyun who was looking at you like you disgusted him. Does the thought of you having sexual needs like anyone else repulse him that much? You get that you’re like a sister to him, but you’re not actually related and the fact that the man you love, and have sexual thoughts about, finds the idea of you being sexual so revolting makes you want to cry. But you can’t cry. Because then Jaehyun would try to do anything to stop you from crying, even if he has to go as far as to lie and claim that he does want you. You have a theory that if you ever come to confess your love to him, he might just pretend that he loves you too just so he wouldn’t hurt you. He’d date you, marry you, be with you forever, if that would make you happy even if it came at the cost of his own happiness. No, you’d rather face the truth than live a lie. You don’t want to cry, so you get angry. “I’ll talk however the hell I want. I’m horny and I want to be fucked. I want a dick in my pussy. I want a dick in my mouth. Hell, I’d even take a dick in my ass at this point.” “___.” He growls in warning, but you couldn’t stop now if you wanted to. “Oh, you know what? Why don’t I have all those at once. I should just go to a bar and have a group of guys gangbang me—“   “Shut up!” He bellows suddenly, making you almost jump out of your skin. You stand shaking like a leaf in front of his full wrath. Suddenly, crying doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Jaehyun would soften immediately, scooping you up in his arms and whispering sweet lies into your ear until you’re smiling again. It’s a jarring thing, him being the source of your anxiety yet the only one who can ease it. He frightens you yet you want to fall into his arms and be safe within them.   Jaehyun closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. You think he’s trying to calm himself down but when he opens them again, you’re hit with a nauseating sense of dejavu—there in his eyes is the same look he had that night, a furious ravenousness, like he could just eat you whole. The chill that shoots down your spine curiously embeds itself in your lower stomach then spreads out, leaving a warm, tingling ache in its place that you knew too well, and that Jaehyun was frequently the cause of. Maybe you were fucked up, but the dangerous air that curled and slithered around him right now swallowed all the meager defiance you had mustered within you, and dragged out the pathetic submissiveness you have towards the man in front of you by the teeth. Your eyes were glued to his, like a small animal hypnotized, and you see them going down your body as if to size you up, only to stop midway and fixate on something, his jaw clenching. Following where his gaze had settled, you realize with horror that you’ve unconsciously been rubbing your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to ease the ache burning between them. For an immeasurable amount of time, Jaehyun’s looks as if he’s in pain as conflicting emotions flit over his face, none of them readable to you which only makes you all the more distressed. Will he send you off in anger? In disgust? God, please anything but that.   All at once, his face is wiped clean, and you watch as he leans back on the couch, his frame affecting a stance of relaxation and calm that leaves you breathless and anticipating the worst. “Come here.” He orders, running a hand over one of his thighs deliberately. “Oppa?” You hesitate, not comprehending what he wanted from you, or not daring to. “Don’t make me repeat myself now, angel.” He warns, tapping his thigh impatiently. You don’t want to disobey him, yet you still hover where you are, buzzing with uncertainty and making little jerky half-movements to follow his order only to yank yourself back right away. You were scared that you were misunderstanding his intention, and even more scared that you weren’t. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your waist and yanks you down, Jaehyun propping you up where he wants you to be. Startled at the sudden drop, your body attempts to steady itself; your hands fly out to clutch at his shirt and your legs clench around his thigh that you were now straddling. Bad move, because now you could feel his toned torso underneath your palms, and your sensitive core was flush against his thick, muscular thigh.   “I’ve got you, angel.” He reassures you, but his husky voice so close to your ears only arouses you more, making you involuntarily buck your hips against him, your heat pushing down against his firm thigh and tearing a choked moan from your throat. Jaehyun stares at you, gaze calculating and trying to catch your own elusive one, “What’s the problem, angel?” “Nothing.” You bite your lip, avoiding his eyes, so he tangles a hand in your hair and tugs on it roughly, forcing you to look at him. “You will look at me when I’m talking to you. Is that understood?” His gaze is so sharp it could cut, and you can do nothing but nod meekly. That seems to appease him because he starts stroking your hair softly. But instead of being soothing, his touch burns you, building up your desire with every gentle stroke of his nails against your scalp, pleasurable but cautionary. “Now tell me.” You shake your head, scared to utter a word. You still didn’t know what he wanted. All you knew is what you wanted, and that is for him to keep touching you. There were so many ways for you to mess this up so you keep quiet. But Jaehyun didn’t like that. “It’s like you’re trying to piss me off.” He scoffs. His hands fall down to your hips and push them down, rubbing you against his thigh and making you cry out again, your hands fisting at his shirt and your eyes open wide. “Nothing, huh?” He goads you. Without intending to, you find yourself uttering out a small, “Please.” But it wasn’t enough for him, he wanted more. “What is it, angel? What do you want?” Why is he doing this to you? Is this a trick to get you to spill out your desire for him just so he could turn you away in disgust? No, Jaehyun would never hurt you like that. But that leaves only one other option… that he actually wants you. But that didn’t make any sense. He had told you himself that he regrets what he did that night. He seemed so sincere in his apologies too, much to your dismay. Yet, here he is, stone cold sober and trying to get you to tell him that you want him. Why?   Jaehyun didn’t like that you were taking this long to answer him. He props his thigh up, pushing it harder against your heat and increases his pace. “Didn’t you say something about being horny?” He prods, starting you off. Your brain starts to shut down, not caring if this was a trick or not anymore, too high off the maddening pleasure that was too little yet too much. “Yes.” You squeak, “I’m so, so horny.” “I can tell. Everyone can. Look at the way you’re dressed.” He tsks, eyeing your skimpy outfit consisting of a plunging tank top and ultra short skirt with disapproval. His hands run up your body, finger slipping under the thin straps and pulling at them, only to make them snap back against your skin, stinging you. “You might as well have gone out naked with ‘fuck me’ spray painted across your tits.” So there it is; this is what he wanted. All of this was just to make a point. You feel sick, the contents of your stomach turning over as you prepare for the ruthless rejection that is to come. But it never does. Instead, he engulfs your breasts in his large hands, kneading them over your paper-thin top. Your nipples instantly harden under his fingers and he pulls at them punishingly, but the pain and the pleasure are nothing but a dangerous cocktail to your touch deprived body, making you arch into his hands and whine. “Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra.” He growls, pulling your tank top down under your breasts. “Didn’t we agree that you’d be a good girl? Is it too much to ask you to control yourself? Are you incapable of shutting your legs?” “I can.” You insisted, feeling his thumbs circle around your nipple teasingly and pulling away every time you try to push your breasts against his hands.   He scoffs at your answer, and pinches your nipples again. “You’re dripping on my leg.” Your eyes fly down, and sure enough, there is a big wet patch where your crotch met his thigh, your arousal having drenched through your panties and onto his sweatpants, making a mess. “You’re hopeless.”  He mutters as he leans down towards your breasts. His tongue swirls around a nipple, and you arch your back again, trying to push more of it into his mouth. He gives you what you want, but not without a price. He opens his mouth wide, engulfing your areola and sucking harshly on it, then he pulls on the nipple with his teeth, just hard enough to sting but not to actually hurt you. You whimper and moan under the assault, sharp pleasure stabbing through you as you desperately rut against his thigh trying to find some relief. “That’s right, baby girl. Hump oppa’s leg like the little slut you are.” He pops your nipple out of his mouth and starts moving to the other one, laying kisses between your breasts on his way. Taking your other nipple into his mouth, he gives it the same treatment while his fingers flick the one he just left and his hand kneads your breast. Your eyes roll back and you moan loudly, his wet, bruising kisses making you lose your mind. “Fuck, oppa, I’m wanna cum.” You cry, your hand dropping to your crotch and trying to slip underneath your shorts so you can finish yourself, but Jaehyun catches it quickly, he glaring at you. “Did you ask permission to do that?” “No oppa.” You whimper, your wrist frail in comparison to his large hand and the vice grip he has around you. “Are you so turned on by your oppa that you forgot your manners?” “I’m sorry, oppa.” You wail, “I just need to cum, please.” He regards you with cold eyes for a moment, looking displeased. Suddenly, he scoops you up and hauls you to his room. Once inside, he makes quick work of your clothes then pulls you to the floor, seating you on his lap facing his full length mirror with your back is to his chest. He pulls your legs wide apart, planting your feet on the ground and ordering you to keep them there.   “Look in the mirror.” He orders, fondling your breasts with one hand as he kisses your neck, tongue darting out to lick a trail down your neck. His other hand travels down to your pussy, fingers skimming over your slit teasingly. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head, embarrassed to see yourself so exposed, especially when he himself was still fully clothed. Jaehyun bites down on your neck and gives your breast a punishing squeeze, growling at you, “I said look.”   When you open your eyes, the sight of yourself reflected in the mirror flushes your face with a red, bursting heat that spreads down your neck and over chest. “Do you see what you look like?” Jaehyun breathes in your ear, his fingers spreading your pussy lips wide open. “You look like a whore, cheap and easy. This is how everyone sees you when you insist on going out dressed like that, searching for a dick to sit on. Is this what you want?” You shake your head vehemently, and answer in a small voice. “No.” “Then why do you insist on being a whore?” He snarls, frustrated. “I’m just horny.” You mouth, sound barely leaving your mouth. “Then you come to me. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” His fingers swirl around your clit, making you dizzy, and murmurs into your hair like a promise. “Always.” When he starts rubbing the pads of his fingers firmly and incessantly against your clit and sucking bruises onto your neck, your minds fogs over, causing you blurt to out, “But you’re not my boyfriend.” “Hmm, so what?” He spits out and suddenly plunges two of his fingers into your dripping hole. Startled by the sudden stretch, your legs spasm, trying to close shut, but Jaehyun hooks his ankles over yours and keeps you spread wide. “You said I shouldn’t have sex with anyone who isn’t my boyfriend.”   “I said you shouldn’t fuck around. But you’re a woman now and you have needs like you said. I can help you take care of that and protect you from what’s out there. I can keep you safe until he comes.” He cajoles, kissing the sensitive skin under your ear and curling his fingers inside of you. “Do you want that, baby?” “Yes,” Later, you’d try to tell yourself that the word that came out of you so readily was a mere reaction to his fingers finding that sweet spot inside of you, but it would be useless. “That means keeping your legs shut around everyone but oppa. Think you can do that?” He dumbs it down for you. “Yes, oppa.” Your voice quivers as you feel your high building up. Pumping his fingers faster in and out of you, he angles it just right to hit that sweet spot every time. The pleasure inside you was reaching critical mass; you just needed a trigger, which he grants you when he turns your head back towards him, humming a ‘good girl’ against your lips then kissing you. You pant and moan against his mouth as you climax, making it easy for him to push his tongue inside your mouth. When you instinctively wrap your lips around his tongue and suck lightly, you’re rewarded with the sexiest moan that has ever graced your ears. You never want this to stop, and he’s kind enough to stay like that for a few minutes, fingers wedged deep in your pussy and his mouth and tongue locked with your own in a messy makeout session. Eventually though, Jaehyun slips his fingers out of you and presses a last peck against your saliva coated lips before pulling back to look at you, eyes clouded over and lids drooping. “You’ll be good, won’t you, angel?” He implores you in his sweet husky voice, and how can anyone expect you to say no?   “I will.” He smiles at you, not a toothy smile but still warm and happy and it makes your heart swell. Heart bursting at the seams and eager to please him more, you turn around in his embrace and direct your attention to his hard length that’s been poking against your back for some time now, intending to return the favor. But when you reach out for it, his hand shoots out to stop you and the smile falls from his face. You feel uneasy at the sudden change in his demeanor, but you courageously power though anyway. “Let me take care of you too, oppa.” “There is no need. I can take care of it myself.” He says emotionlessly. “I know but wouldn’t it feel better if I helped you?” You croak, feeling your heart pounding erratically against your rib age. “I said no.” He barks, and you shrink back. He sighs in annoyance at your reaction and rakes a hand through his hair. “Just… I don’t need you to touch me, ok?” “Of course. It’s no problem.” You choke back your tears, “Can you, um, let go of me?” Jaehyun was still holding your wrist in his hand, staring at you and looking as if he doesn’t have any intention of releasing you soon. You know he can see the tears brimming in your eyes, and you start preparing yourself mentally for the forced coddling that is to come, knowing it will only make you feel worse. But for the first time ever, Jaehyun pretends that he doesn’t see your tears, and lets you go.                                     •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• A/N: Is this story falling apart yet? I’m nervous, please donate some feedback to this starving artist.

Crime and Punishment

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Sneaking in not one but two small requests this time. Who is this guy??

Enjoy!

The coffee swirls were interesting to watch, especially for someone as tired as Eren was. Tiny black whirlpool, going round and round, endlessly chasing after the trail left behind by the spoon. Fruitless activity, as they could never catch it, yet they kept trying.

“How’s the talk with your mug?”, Ymir walked in smirking, coming to stand next to his table, “Anything interesting?”

“Not much.”, Eren shrugged, taking a sip instead. It hit the spot.

“He isn’t answering.”

“That’s good, since we have to go anyway.”

Nodding, Eren stood up, legs feeling just a tad bit unsteady underneath him.

“How’s the patient?”

“All prepped and ready. Waiting for us to go and cut him open.”

“Then we better not keep him waiting.”

But when he tried to push his way out of the room, Ymir stopped him, casting an inspecting eye over his disheveled visage.

“Hey, are you sure you’re up to this? That’s some serious case of dark circles under your eyes man.”, she looked him up and down, more unsure by the second, “When was the last time you slept?”

“Oh, come on, what are you, my mom? Let’s go.”

With half playful and half firm shove, he got around her, making his way to the operating theater, with Ymir hot on his heels. Honestly speaking, Eren couldn’t answer her question even if he wanted to. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept.

The patch of skin in front of him looked like any other, white and eerie in the intense light, waiting for him to cut. It was a bit blinding, making Eren’s vision swim, flickering from time to time. But it didn’t matter, he had to do this, there was no other way. Taking a deep breath, Eren planted the point of the scalpel right against it, preparing himself.

“Making the first incision…”

Fingers closed around his wrist, preventing the cut, making his gaze fly up to see who it was. Ymir was staring at him from across the table, eyes hard above the surgical mask.

“Eren what the fuck!”, she hissed, “Your fucking hands are shaking!”

She was right, he realized, looking down at his work. The short trail he left behind, quickly filling with blood, was jagged and zig-zag, ugly against the white. Horrified, he put down the scalpel with a clink, taking a step back.

“Get out of here.”, Ymir rounded the table, taking his place, “I got this.”

“You… good to finish it yourself, need something?”

She shook her head, already working.

“Go.”

Under the puncturing gazes of nurses and the weight of his own failure, he stumbled out. It took all the mental fortitude he had to keep himself on his feet.

“Eren.”

Voice he knew very well, deep and rich, radiating calmness. A chair scraped the floor, and someone took a seat across, shifting a bit to get comfortable. Eren was afraid to meet the judgmental gaze, but there really was no way around it, so, steeling himself, he looked up, right into Erwin’s eyes.

“Hello sir.”

“I trust that you know why I’m here.”

“I believe I do.”

“Good.”, a nod, “Then listen closely, because I want you to remember everything I say.”

Erwin leaned back, fingers drumming against the desk.

“Last time I saw you, it was Monday. Have you been home since then?”

“No sir, but its been just a day right? It’s Tuesday?”

“It’s Thursday, Eren.”

Wait, so he went without a proper sleep for three straight days? There were an hour or two long naps he managed to squeeze in, but that was far from enough. Dropping his head to his hands, Eren let out a pained groan. He really did fuck up.

“I had someone give a quick look over your work for the past days,”, Erwin continued, “and they didn’t find any big faults, so that’s good. But we did find some smaller mistakes, especially in the last hours. I think it’s safe to say that you are in no condition to do a surgery.” His eyes grew hard, “Yet you still attempted to do one, and would probably go through with it if it wasn’t for Ymir.”

“Sir, I’m sorry I…”

But Erwin didn’t let him speak.

“You not fucking up big time and the previous perfect record you have, those are the only reasons I’m not firing you on the spot. Got it?”

“I…”

“Why the hell did you pull this? Four days in a row here?”

Eren’s throat was somewhat dry, and he had to swallow a few times before he could croak an answer.

“I wanted to ask for vacation soon, so I thought that I’ll put in a few more hours to compensate.”

“You already did more in the last month than others do in three. Listen, if you want time off, you come to me, ask for it, and I’ll very gladly give it to you. Okay?”

There really was no room for discussion. Then again, not like Eren deserved to have any.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Now, you will pack your things, go home, and think, really think, about what happened, could have happened. Sure, maybe the surgery would go smoothly, maybe nothing would have happened. But I think that we both know that way more likely is the possibility of you fucking up, and having the person either have some serious complications, or dying outright. There, on the table, just because of you and your stubbornness.”

Erwin stood up, towering in all his impressive height, looking down at Eren.

“I already called your girlfriend to pick you up, so get changed, pack, and wait for her.”

“I can drive…”

“In this state?”, Erwin shook his head, “You will do as I say in this. And Eren, if I see you at work before Monday, I’ll fire you on the spot. Understand?”

“Crystal clear.”

Gamer headset: on.

Knuckles: cracked

Boyfriend: at work (again)

Yep… it’s gamer time.

Watching the loading circle do its endless loop, Mikasa took a sip of her coke, reclining on the sofa. To Eren’s credit, he did say that he has to finish his assignments, because logically, a surgeon can’t just say fuck it and pack and leave in a single day. So no, she wasn’t mad at him, they talked about it, but still. Spending basically the whole week in a hospital…. It was just weird. The leave he promised to take couldn’t be here fast enough. Gaming the evening away was as nice plan as any other, but just before she loaded in, a ring of her phone interrupted Mikasa, making her frown on the screen. Unknown number was calling, and she considered just hanging up for a moment, but in the end decided against it.

“Hello?”

“Miss Ackerman? Hi, this is Erwin Smith, I work at the hospital your fiancé is at?”

Erwin? That was Eren’s boss right? A bit of fear creeped under her skin.

“Of course, sir, I know who you are. Did something happen? Is Eren okay?”

“That’s up for discussion. Miss Ackerman, we need to talk.”

Eren found Mikasa in the lobby, leaning against the wall, lips pressed into a tight line. When she spotted him, her expression didn’t change a bit, and she quickly walked out, not even bothering to check if he was following her. With a sigh, he did. She was already seated on the bike when he reached her, wordlessly giving him the spare helmet.

“Put this on.”

“Look, Miki, I…”

She shook her head.

“Eren, don’t. Just don’t.”

The ride home was silent, with just the wind around him for company. Mikasa’s attitude was about as cold as the weather, as she immediately stormed off as soon as she parked, closing the door after herself with a bang. Shuffling after her, Eren did his best to prepare some sort of speech inside his head, a way to defend his action, but there really was no excuse. He fucked up, plain and simple. Mikasa had her back to him when he entered the living room, hands squeezing the armrest of the couch, the tension in her shoulders clearly visible. Reaching out, he put a hand on her, not missing the way she flinched from his touch.

“Miki, I’m sorry.”

No response.

“What do you want me to do? Get on my knees and beg for forgiveness? Because I’m not doing that.”, this silent treatment was starting to piss Eren off, and he could feel his temper rising. “I know I fucked up, but you acting like a bitch isn’t really helping so…”

Quick as lightning, she turned, grabbing Eren by the collar and pressing him against the wall, his body sliding upwards. Before he realized what was happening, Eren was hanging in the air, with Mikasa effortlessly holding him up. Her rage was not that quick to boil, but now she was pissed, properly, and it showed. It was scary to realize just how strong she was, when she wasn’t holding back, the grip on his shirt like iron, with Eren having no chance to get out of it unless Mikasa lets him.

“You know it? You know just how badly you fucked up? Great! So, lets just forget about it, right?”, jaw clenching in anger, she shook him like a sack of potatoes, “Fuck sake Eren, do you realize what could have happened? Do you?”

“I’m sorry, all right?”

“No, it’s not all right. Erwin said that you could have killed someone, just because you are so fucking stubborn! This shit you do, acting like a child, unable to be reasoned with, it just makes me want to bend you over my knee and spank you.”

“Why don’t you then?”

Grey eyes blinked in surprise, looking right into his greens. She had every reason to be taken aback, now that Eren thought about it, but sometimes, people are just weird. Mikasa was angry at him, rightfully, and deep down, Eren wanted to be punished, because it was his fault, no one else’s. Erwin, Mikasa, Ymir, they all told him to stop, go back to normal shifts, go home, rest. But no, he knew better, wouldn’t listen, and ended up almost killing someone. He did act like a child, spoiled and unreasonable, so maybe getting punished like one was exactly the thing that he needed.

“You know,”, letting him down, Mikasa took a step back, “I just might…”

She was still looking for the confirmation that he was serious, and Eren gladly gave her one.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Right. Follow me then.”

Up and to the bedroom, Mikasa removed the decoy punching bag from their old friend, the hook, rummaging through the drawers after. On her command, Eren removed his shirt, holding up his hands in front after for her to cuff them.

“I think that you are a bit too old for over the knee stuff, so we’ll have to improvise.”

Connecting Eren’s wrists together with a chain, she led him to the hook, clicking the things together. Now he was naked from waist up, hands raised, tied to the ceiling, while still having no idea what was about to happen. Mikasa was doing something behind his back, out of sight, most likely choosing the instrument of her wrath. Finding it, she came to stand right behind him, clearing her throat.

“Eren, why am doing this?”

“Because you are a control freak?”

A pause.

“Why am I doing this?”

Well all right, if she wanted to play it like this…

“Because I made a mistake, a big one, which endangered the lives of my patients.”

“And?”, she prompted him to go on.

“And I almost fucked my whole career in the process.”, Eren took a shaky breath, “I ignored every advice, everyone who meant well, and kept going, hardheaded like a kid. So, I’m being punished like one.”

“Good boy.”

The whip bit into his skin painfully, forcing Eren to clench his teeth in order to remain silent. Fuck this was great. It was weird, the primal need he felt, the need to feel some sort of reaction to his actions. He fucked up, big time, and the punishment in the form of a short chastising speech from Erwin just didn’t quite cut it. He wanted the pain, needed it. But tonight, he was feeling especially guilty, and decided to push Mikasa a bit, to see if she would perhaps go a bit harder than usual. After all, what could go wrong?

“Oh? Was that it? I hardly even felt it.”

After a bit of silence, she hit him again, noticeably harder. Good, but somehow not enough.

“Are you scratching my back? Could you move a little bit to the left, I have this itch there…”

Mikasa finally couldn’t hold her tongue.

“Eren. Shut up.”

“Make me.”

With a shuffle of clothing, she appeared in front of him, frowning.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I want you to hit me.”

She held up the whip.

“I am hitting you.”

“I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

Mikasa’s eyes immediately widened, the wariness easy to see.

“That’s dangerous, I can’t…”

He yawned, interrupting her.

“You done?”

“Eren…”

“Come on, what are you so scared of? Hit me!”

The conflict inside her was noticeable, the way her jaw tightened and loosened, the way her fingers played with the handle of the whip. Mikasa wanted to go hard on him, both for the shit he pulled and the bratty mouth, but hitting him as hard as she could? With this whip? But if he really wanted it….

“Fine. You want me to hit you as hard as I can?”

He nodded.

“As you wish then.”

Coming to stand behind him again, Mikasa pulled her arm back, working her wrist in small circles. If he wanted it so bad, then he can have it.

“Ready?”

“Yup.”

“Here I come.”

The sound was earsplitting, a quick whoosh of the whip flying through the air ended with an audible crack as it connected with his back. It was a nice hit, beginning at right hip and going all the way up to the left shoulder. Seeing how he clenched his muscles against the pain, the whispered “Fuck.” that escaped him, Mikasa was very satisfied with herself for about five seconds. Then, Eren sagged in the bonds, and the line on his back started turning red.

“Oh my god,”, Mikasa threw the whip away, rushing to the front, taking a hold of his pale face to see. Eren’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was swallow, as the pain must have been overwhelming. “Eren! Eren, you’re bleeding! Jesus, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want..”

He whispered something she didn’t quite catch, so she leaned forward, hoping that he will repeat it.

“Red…”

Safeword, he’s going to say a damn safeword when he’s bleeding from his back. As if Mikasa didn’t know that she had to stop. God damn it. Reaching up, she undid the cuffs, gently lowering Eren down to the floor. She didn’t know if moving him was a good idea, so after a few panicked thoughts Mikasa just knelt, putting his head on her lap, letting him rest there.

“Eren? Please say something…”

He swallowed, grimaced, rolled his shoulders a bit and winced immediately. Fuck, it hurt.

“You’re bleeding on the floor.”, she noticed, the horror inside her creeping up. She should do something, right? “What can I do?”

“Give me a second.”, Eren finally spoke, getting his breathing under control. “It’s not that bad, just ripped skin. Blood is all right.”

“What should I do?”, she repeated.

“Need to clean the wound and bandage it. Don’t worry I’ll guide you.”

“No stitches?”

Even with the pain, Eren had to stifle a laugh when he imagined coming to the hospital for stitches on his back. Hey dude, how did it happen? Oh, you know, my girlfriend whipped me so hard that she cut through the skin. Anyway, how’s your day?

“Nah, no stitches.”

“I’ll go get the things then.”, as gently as humanly possible, she lowered his head down from her legs on the floor, standing up, “You’ll be okay here?”

“It’s really not that bad.”, braving through the sting, he offered her a smile, hoping to ease her worries a little bit, “I’m okay.”

But when she left, and he tried getting up, his body folded almost immediately, refusing to move. Not that bad, but not that good either.

Mikasa was a quick student, cleaning and bandaging the cut very efficiently, following his guidance almost flawlessly. After her care, he was able to relocate to the bed, with her help, laying down with a sigh. Finally, Eren was feeling as tired as he should be, the shock and adrenaline dying down to the overwhelming need for sleep.

“Again, I’m so sorry.”, Mikasa sat down next to him, playing with his hair, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“And I shouldn’t have pushed you that hard. It was my fault too.”

“The dom is supposed to be in control…”

“But we weren’t really playing, were we?”

Mikasa sighed.

“Guess we both fucked up then.”

“Yea, but we found ourselves in that situation only because I did the dumb stuff at the hospital.”

“I just hope you finally realize just how terrible it would be for you if something serious happened.”, she looked down, voice shaky, “If he died because of you, Eren, it would have destroyed you. If you lost your license…”, eyes meeting his again, Eren realized that hers were wet, unshed tears in them, “You need this work, to help people, if you couldn’t do it anymore…. I don’t even know what we would do.”

Taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice, Eren could feel his cheeks burning. She was right. He needed this work, and today he came so damn close to losing it, just because he was dumb. A rude awakening, but a needed one.

“I know, and I promise I’ll change.”

They both fell silent for a time, with Mikasa dragging her fingers through his hair endlessly, lulling him to sleep. But before he let the darkness take him, a last thought struck him.

“Miki?”

“Hm?”

“I think I won’t take the days off now, but later.”

She frowned, confused.

“Why?”

“Because now I would have free time, but you are in a middle of your projects. And I prefer spending my free time with you.”

A flattering statement, one she rewarded with a kiss on the forehead.

“So, I’ve been thinking, how about I take my vacation when you are free too, and then we can be together. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”, another kiss, this time a feather light brush of the lips, “Now go to sleep.”

To appear at least a little bit rebellious, Eren rolled his eyes at the order.

“Yes mom.”

“What, should I tell Carla that you want me to take her place?”

“Erm… No?”

Mikasa arched an eyebrow down at him.

“You know what, I’ll just be silent. Night baby, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Mouth right at his ear, the next whisper tickled him.

“My dear son.”

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INSTAS

What you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

Molly thought the concept of that was laughable. It seemed stupid to her that anyone could think something unknown couldn’t hurt them. Maybe that was because Molly hated being in the dark, she’d prefer the truth, even if it was a horrible truth, every day of the week. At least that way, at the very worst she knew what she was facing, and the very best she could put her fears to bed and move on. Things unknown, kept secret, hidden, tended to fester into something much greater and far harder to deal with. Once a secret was kept, it’s not just the facts of the secret, it’s the fact someone kept something from her, felt they couldn’t tell her something, that she had to face.

What Molly didn’t know was killing her emotionally, mentally. And she didn’t even know for certain if there was indeed something she didn’t know. She was running on instinct, on an assumption, but it was hard to ignore when Harry seemed to be making such an effort to avoid contact with her.

It was exactly as it had been before, when they’d returned from her parents house. He’d gone cold, quiet, and Molly was left in the dark wondering what she’d done wrong. If there was a bitterness left in his mouth from her mistakes taking Ryan home and not getting in a taxi, she could understand that, and she’d apologise and explain herself as much as she could, knowing full well the action itself and then not telling Harry about it put her firmly in the wrong. It was proof that what people didn’t know, could indeed hurt them. However, Molly was sure they’d moved on from that, and if it wasn’t the same on his side, all he had to do was say so. But Harry had been normal for days following their argument, things had been back on track, going well, with no signs anything was amiss.

Until everything was amiss, and for no apparent reason. Things had fallen off the track with no warning signs whatsoever and Molly could feel the whiplash of it ricocheting through her mind.

It was infuriating to keep coming back to square one, when Molly was sure they should have been far away from that place. They seemed to be taking it in turns to set fire to themselves before they were fully built and they were left to start from ashes all over again. Everytime Molly thought she was close it was ripped away from her, like the ocean between her and Harry kept getting deeper, wider, and shore much, much further away. But for some reason, she just wanted to keep swimming. There were far more reasons to walk away, his temper, the way he laughed any serious conversation off like it was meaningless until he had no choice but to face it, the darkness in his eyes that he wouldn’t let her into. But Molly couldn’t help herself, she was falling, and no warning signs made her want to stop.

When Molly woke up the morning after ‘girls night’, there hadn’t been a part of her that was intending on acting on Lauren’s words. When Lauren had suggested Molly go round to Harry’s uninvited Molly had literally laughed it off. But over twelve hours later and Molly was spinning back and forth on her desk chair, staring down at her phone seriously contemplating it. It was verging on three pm and she hadn’t heard a word from Harry, despite her reply to his late night text, despite her trying to call when she stopped working to have some lunch, despite the sweet text just checking in he was ok, and the slightly more salty message a few hours later when he still hadn’t contact her the way he’d promised.

There was a little fire that started inside her of, at the sound of his voicemail yet again. It came from anger, or frustration, but by that point the feelings weren’t  mutually exclusive, and they felt one in the same. It fueled her up from her chair and out of the door, with nothing but her purse, keys and phone, which she shoved into the pockets of the denim jacket she shrugged on over her hoodie. It pushed her onto the bus, and off at the stop just outside Harry’s building. It drove her all the way to the front door of his block, until she was stood outside with her finger lingering over his doorbell.

There was a moment where she thought about turning around. Harry had told her he was busy and she should respect that. But he’d also told her he’d call first thing, and not only had he failed to do that, he’d failed to answer her calls, or either of her messages, even though she could see he’d read both. Perhaps if they’d spoken, Harry had sorted something out as he’d said he would, she wouldn’t be there. As it was, Molly was feeling let down and in the dark, and perhaps Lauren was right when she’d said that Molly wasn’t being unreasonable to expect a little clarity and honesty.

Molly’s finger was seconds from pressing the buzzer, when a larger than life man pushed the door open, as startled by seeing Molly on the other side as she was by being pulled from her train of thoughts by the door opening before she’d even pressed the button.

“Oh sorry sweetheart didn’t see you there, you going in?” The man asked, his accent far from local.

“Thanks,” Molly whispered, slipping in the door that was being held open for her. Now she was inside, without even having to speak to Harry over the intercom, it felt like the world was telling her to take the steps to his flat, she’d made the right decision. Still there was apprehension in her belly - just because the world thought it was a good idea, didn’t mean Harry would, and Molly was certain there was only two ways this was going to end.

The stairwell was as cold as it was every time Molly had been there. Even as the days were beginning to get longer and the sun warmer, the winding staircase, modern, and clinical, was always cold enough to give Molly goosebumps, even through her hoodie and jacket and the fleece lined leggings she’d been keeping comfortable in at her desk. Even the battered and beaten black combat boots over her thick socks were doing little to nothing in terms of keeping her warm. But perhaps it was more than just the cold making her shiver.

The third floor seemed further away than normal, but Molly got there eventually, Harry’s door, number fifteen glittering over the wood, looking as normal and inconspicuous as ever. There was a peep hole in the door, and Molly swallowed knowing as soon as she knocked on the door, Harry would be able to know she was there, and there was a part of her, growing larger with every second, that wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to do this. Once that door was opened, if it opened, there was no going back. As much as Molly had thought she’d wanted it, she was beginning to wonder if maybe she could carry on living in peaceful ignorance. Though of course, there was nothing peaceful about it at all.

And so she knocked the door. Three gentle taps and a gulping swallow on nothing before she stood patiently with her hands in her pockets, toying with the frayed piece of pink ribbon she had tied to her key ring.

If Harry hesitated at the peephole, he did it quickly, because the door was open in no more than thirty seconds, and Molly was looking up from the scuffed toe of her boots, to someone who was very not Harry. Molly’s breath hitched in her throat at the sight of the dark haired woman. She was a complete stranger to Molly, she’d never seen her before, not even in a photo, not even in passing, but there was something that was vaguely familiar. Molly couldn’t put her finger on it at all, but there was something very slightly recognisable about the woman greeting her at Harry’s door.

“Hi,” The girl grinned, apparently not at all thrown by Molly being on the other side of the door. At least not as thrown as Molly was. Half of her hadn’t expected the door to be answered at all, but the other half certainly didn’t expect someone other than Harry to be answering the door, and Molly’s mind started to tumble unkindly into all the ways he could have been busy enough with this woman to cancel on her last minute and ignore her calls and texts.

“I was erm,” Molly started, swallowing down on nothing. There was nothing lodged in her throat, not even air, as she found she’d been holding her breath waiting for the words to come to her. “Is Harry in?” Molly asked, wrapping her jacket further around her as if it might protect her from something that was aiming for her heart.

“Oh no, he’s just popped out, he’ll be back in like five minutes, come in,” The girl encouraged with a bright grin that might have set Molly on edge if she could have had any clue as to who she was and why she was in Harry’s flat. Her mind was racing, but she was simultaneously trying to rationalise it. She’s just a friend, he might be a dick sometimes but he wouldn’t...would he? The question lingered in her mind for a second, as Molly thought about what she wanted to do.

“It’s ok, I’ll come b-”

“Molly,” The girl interrupted as Molly moved to turn away from the door and take the stairs back away from the flat, not sure where she would exactly go from there, entirely unsure what to think, especially when her name spilled from the girls lips like it had been well rehearsed.

“How do you know my name?” Molly asked, frowning, entirely curious now.

“Because you’re all Harry bloody talks about, and he’s never used social media so much in his life until he had photos of you to put all over it,” The girl chuckled. Molly lightened quickly then, doubts and fears almost, but not quite, eradicated. “I’m Ellie, I’m a friend of Harry’s,” she explained, and Molly lightened yet more with the new information. For all her initial apprehension, Molly found it surprisingly easy to trust Ellie. There was just something about her, something almost sisterly that Molly began to settle into as she stepped over the threshold into Harry’s flat.

It was warmer inside, the underfloor heating was on, Molly could tell, but there was also a window cracked in the kitchen letting some fresh air travel through the space. The TV was on, playing to itself as Molly kicked off her boots and Ellie shut the front door behind them. It was calm, and not at all how Molly had anticipated turning up at Harry’s flat would go.

“Can I get you a drink or anything?” Ellie asked, sliding back into the flat with her socked feet, the white fabric loose on her toes.

“No I’m good thanks,” Molly smiled,following Ellie tentatively through towards the kitchen area. As easy as Ellie was in Molly’s company, it wasn’t entirely mutual. Molly felt better than she had when Ellie first opened the door, but she still didn’t know who this woman was, and it showed in the way Molly didn’t take her jacket off and kept her hands firmly in her pockets. She looked like a stranger in the space, Ellie commanding it easily, taking the lead in this strange little set up they found themselves in, though Ellie didn’t seem fazed by it at all. Where Molly was cautious, Ellie was confident and helped herself to a mug from Harry’s cupboard as if the flat was her own. Ellie was no stranger here, and Molly guessed not a stranger to Harry at all, but Molly hadn’t even heard her name, let alone seen her face before.

There was something a little strange about it, but Molly couldn’t put her finger on it without supposing she sounded as if she thought she were entitled to know about everyone he associated with. It wasn’t that. It was just she doubted any of the friends of Harry’s she had met would let her into his flat, or offer her coffee, grab a mug from his cupboard, and she’d spent a considerable amount of time with those friends. Even received texts from Amanda to see what she was up to, how she was, if she wanted to meet up. Someone who seemed so at home in Harry’s flat, is someone Molly thought Harry might have mentioned. It just pointed to those secrets she was sure she could almost see.

“Are you sure? I was about to make coffee anyway,” Ellie told Molly, nodding at the coffee machine with it’s green go light illuminated. Molly chewed the inside of her mouth. She was beginning to wonder what Harry would think when he got back and she was sat at his kitchen counter with his friend drinking his coffee. Molly swallowed, it didn’t matter.

“Ok, go on then,” Molly smiled again, and Ellie grinned back. The coffee machine whirred to life, spitting out coffee from the spout into one of the two mugs Ellie fetched. Ellie helped herself to milk from the fridge and poured it into the jug that Harry normally kept on top of the machine, though Ellie found it in the dishwasher without even seeming to think it could be anywhere else. She gave it a rinse before she used it, and Molly wondered how many coffees she’d had at Harry’s already that day.

“He won’t be long, I’ll give him a text in a minute, let him know you’re here,” Ellie told Molly as she heated up the milk in the metal jug.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s not expecting me,” Molly informed Ellie, glancing over to her from where she’d been staring out of one of the large kitchen windows.

“Oh, he told me he was seeing you later,” Ellie said with a frown, clearly a little confused, though not as confused as Molly. Molly didn’t know what she’d missed, or misunderstood, but it certainly wasn’t Harry  letting her know that he’d be seeing her later.

“He told me he was seeing me today, but he cancelled last night, he also told me he’d call him this morning, but he didn’t, so I’ve given up listening to what he says he’s going to do, and started focusing on what he actually does do.” There was a bitterness in Molly’s voice, she could hear it and it sounded as ugly as it felt, but Ellie simply sighed, a big sigh that lifted her shoulders and let them fall again, heavily. Molly watched her suck one of her cheeks in. Maybe Molly had just insulted this girls friend, but she didn’t look annoyed, at least not annoyed at what Molly had said. In fact she looked disappointed.

“He’s a fucking dick head,” Ellie spat, and Molly felt her eyes go wide. If she’d had coffee in her mouth, she was sure it would have spluttered out thanks to Ellie’s quick, harsh words. “If I’d have known he was meant to be seeing you, I, it’s probably best he explains,” Ellie sighed, turning back to the coffee and pouring the milk into it. “Just make sure he explains, don’t let him laugh it off so you find you’ve forgotten about it,” Ellie warned placing a mug in front of Molly which Molly gladly wrapped her hands around as she smiled to herself.

“He does do that huh?” Molly chuckled before lifting the mug and taking a sip of it.

“All the time,” Ellie laughed. “Some weird defense mechanism,” Ellie shrugged. Molly nodded, rolling her lips together and looking down at her mug. This girl knew him, better than Molly it was clear. Perhaps this was someone he let in just enough so she knew how he kept himself shielded from everyone else, something Molly was still working out. “Harry and I are just very much friends by the way, just to be clear,” Ellie added, quietly, carefully. Molly shot her head up at that.

“Oh no, I didn’t, it’s fine,” Molly babbled quickly shaking her head frantically.

“No I know,” Ellie smiled. “Just there’s nothing, there never has been, well-”

“Heyyy,” Harry’s voice was sweet and sing songy as it rung through the flat behind the sound of the opening door and the sound of wheels on the floor. “We’re back,” he called again, and Molly spun on her stool, just about able to see him through the spaces on the book case, though he couldn’t see her. The push chair was easy to spot and for a minute Molly assumed it was Zak, that was until a pair of toddling feet wobbled around the bookcase and a little girl with blonde hair tied in two little bunches appeared. Molly felt taken back at the surprise of the new child, but just smiled brightly at the little girl staring up at her.

“Hi,” Molly cooed, the little girl having slowed her steps and side walking towards Ellie with an outstretched hand, eyes fixed on the stranger in the room.

“Lolly?” Harry questioned, following after the child with a deep frown on his face. “What are you doing here?” He asked, reaching for the child and lifting her up onto his hip where he started removing her little converse from her feet. Molly didn’t say anything for a second, just stared up at Harry from her seat as he stared back at her.

“She came to see you after you forgot to call this morning,” Ellie explained for Molly who was chewing her lip, watching the child grabbing at Harry’s ringlets, the thumb of her free hand finding her mouth as she continued to stare at Molly trying to work her out. Molly raised her eyes to Harry and she saw him sink, his forehead uncreasing quickly and his eyes closing for a few seconds. There was an apology on his tongue, Molly could almost hear it, but it didn’t find air, just lodged in his throat, as he decided to save it for later when they were alone. “Lola baby, this is Molly, Uncle Harry’s friend, you gonna say hi?” Ellie tried, seemingly attempting to loosen the atmosphere.

“Hi Lola,” Molly grinned, eyes back on the blonde haired little girl who couldn’t have been much over three, but Molly had never been good at guessing ages.

“Hi,” Lola mumbled around her thumb, the words clipped and not fully formed. She had the biggest doe eyes Molly could imagine, bright green and glistening in the lights of the kitchen as she continued to stare back at Molly. “M’ Lola,” Lola babbled, her thumb popping from her mouth and her hand resting by her thigh that was hooked up in Harry’s arms.

“This is Lolly,” Harry started edging closer to Molly, head twisted to look at Lola. “Lolly’s my friend, do you want to sit with her while me and Mummy get your things together?” Harry’s voice was sweeter than normal, a little higher and softer, somehow slower though Molly didn’t know how that was possible. Lola nodded and reached out for Molly, who looked to Harry with wide eyes not entirely sure how to take what was happening. Harry just nodded, a soft, somehow reassuring, smile on his face. Molly took the child from Harry resting her on his lap and looking over her blonde head to see Harry motioning for Ellie to follow him. They headed up the hallway towards Harry’s open bedroom, but the door almost closed behind them. Molly swallowed and look down at the child who was looking up at her with her thumb back in her mouth.

“You’ve been with Uncle Harry today then?” Molly asked spinning a little and placing Lola up on the work top, hands knitting together behind her to stop her moving away or falling from the edge. Lola nodded, her eyes somehow widening. “Did you have fun?” Again Lola just nodded and Molly giggled. “What did you do?”

“Went to park, and for ice cream,” Lola told Molly, looking around the room a little as she did so. The words weren’t full, syllables missing here and there, but Molly could make out the words just fine.

“Wow that sounds fun.” Molly’s voice trailed off, both her and Lola distracted by the sudden raised voices from the bedroom. “So what ice cream did you get?” Molly asked, trying to grab Lola’s attention again, but it was futile. Lola’s big green eyes were fixed on the bedroom door and her mind on the noise.

“Why they shouting?” Lola asked, eyebrows dipping a little.

“I’m not sure, maybe they can’t find something,” Molly suggested quickly, not quite sure what to say, she didn’t have the answer, and the things in her head didn’t concern Lola.

“Just tell her the truth Harry for fucks sake.”It was Ellie’s voice that called the final blow, and where before they’d been hushed, attempting to not be heard but failing, Ellie’s words were loud and clear, ricocheting around the flat like bullets sent straight for Molly. Molly felt herself tighten, her spine lengthening and shoulders rolling back, as her eyes shot to Lola. It didn’t appear that she noticed the swear word particularly, but the tone had clearly registered with her little ears and her fingers lifted to her mouth, resting on her pillowy bottom lip as her eyes blinked quickly.

“Hey, Lola, what ice cream did you have?” Molly asked brightly, picking the child back up and placing her on her knee where she bounced Lola quickly, trying to distract her from what was going on in the bedroom.

“Mummy shouting at Uncle Harry?” Lola asked quietly, lip literally and visibly trembling. Molly swallowed, not sure what to say. Could she lie? Was there any point when Lola clearly knew the answer? “Why?” Lola asked, obviously seeing the truth in Molly’s face.

“I’m not sure hunny, I’m sure you don’t need to worry,” Molly smiled, trying to catch Lola’s eyes but she was looking out of the side of her eye back at the door.

“Mummy used bad words,” Lola mumbled over her fingers again.

“It’s ok, I’m sure she didn’t mean to, hey, why don’t you tell me about the park, did you go on the swings?” Molly tried again, but the toddler was completely distracted. “Come on look, shall we see if we can find something on the TV?” Molly suggested standing up and resting Lola on her hip as she did so. Lola finally looked away from the door, moving slightly to rest her head on Molly’s shoulder, her small chubby hand finding Molly’s hair and twisting it slowly around her fingers. Molly sighed quietly, looking down awkwardly to the little girl sucking her thumb and lost in her head, reminding Molly of herself as a child, and even now. Molly didn’t think anything of pressing a little kiss against Lola’s soft blonde hair before she began flicking through channels.

Before Molly could find anything though, the bedroom door was opening. Molly turned to the noise to find Ellie heading back towards her. For the tone of her voice she looked calm, and she smiled sweetly at Molly as they caught eyes.

“Sorry,” Ellie said with a shrug. “We have to go home now Lola, you gonna say goodbye to Lolly?” Ellie asked, as Molly gently handed Lola over to her mother. Lola sat up more in Ellie’s arms, looking back at Molly over her shoulder.

“Bye Lola, I’ll see you soon,” Molly grinned, bending a little to catch Lola’s eyes.

“Buh-bye Lolly, see you soon,” Lola grinned happily before turning back to look at her mum.

“See you Molly, thanks for watching her then,” Ellie said, backing out of the room towards the entrance way and Lola’s pram. “If you have any questions, just get my number of someone and give me a call,” Ellie offered quietly. It took Molly a little by surprise and she found herself blinking quickly as Ellie left the room finally, Molly watching after her dumbfounded. Questions? Molly wondered, why would she have questions? What would she have questions about? It set her heart of racing, and she wanted to chase Ellie out of the room ask what she meant, but she could hear the response before she’d even asked. Ask Harry, talk to Harry about it, he needs to tell you. The real question was if he would actually tell her, or pretend like it was nothing, and tell her that Ellie was just being over dramatic about something that was nothing, just like he’d done when Katie had told her Harry liked to lead people on, that she should be careful, made out like Harry wasn’t good enough.

“Mummy, don’t shout at Uncle Harry, make him said,” Molly heard Lola tell her mother as she was clipped into her pram, but Ellie didn’t say anything, just shouted a goodbye into the flat that was followed quickly by the sound of the door opening and closing.

The flat fell silent and so did Molly. She took a seat on the sofa and fell back into it heavily, resting her head on the back of it and looking up at the flat white ceiling. The lights weren’t on up there, and the lamp in the corner cast an odd shadow across it. It was coasting into early evening and the sun was just beginning to lower, turning the sky a deep orange that filtered through the windows and stained everything a similar vibrant hue. Molly closed her eyes to it all and focused on her mind.

What she was supposed to think she didn’t know, but what she was thinking was that maybe she was in well over her depth with Harry. Perhaps there’d always be more to him than she could understand, and maybe she wasn’t as adept to coping with that as she’d like to think. It wasn’t even that she wanted everything from him, just an admission there was indeed something. Molly could understand if he wasn’t ready to open up and tell her all the things about himself that he’d been practicing so hard at keeping closed off, that was fine. What she couldn’t understand was pretending what she saw was what she was going get, because with each day it became clearer that might never be the case. There was never ending layers to Harry, and with each step closer to him she got, all she really discovered was another layer encasing him that Harry refused to admit, at least out loud, was there.

It wasn’t as if Molly hadn’t given Harry chances to tell her there were things about him he wasn’t ready to talk about, it wasn’t as if circumstances had kept him from telling her that, it was only himself that had chosen to make it into something else, to pretend there was nothing to him she didn’t already know. When Molly had met Harry he’d seemed so confident and self-assured, but she was beginning to think that was just a mask for someone insecure and afraid of themselves. Someone who didn’t know how to process someone else getting close to them. All his mood swings, his outbursts, his cocky, smug attitude, appeared like a coping mechanism for the fear of letting someone in, and putting a dent in his armour.

Molly was more than willing to be patient for him, if he was willing to at least admit there was something to be patient for, admit there was more than the exterior shell he let the world see, admit there was a softness, a weakness, an achilles heel to the faultless Harry he portrayed day in, day out.

Molly opened her eyes again at the sound of footsteps and twisted her head in the direction of Harry’s room. Their eyes met as he headed towards her slowly, socked feet almost sliding along the floor. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the long curls away from his face, his eyes dropping to his feet and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. The silence persisted, Molly refusing to say a word until he did. Perhaps it seemed stubborn, bitter or petty, but Molly didn’t want to say a word and give him an escape route through what she had to say. She wanted to hear his words, standing alone for what they were.

“I’m sorry,” Harry started carefully, quietly, hesitating at the edge of the living space. He held his hands in front of him, wrapped together pulling at this fingers. Molly didn’t say anything, just looked up at him, turning a little on the couch so she could see him without craning her neck. “For letting you down, and for not calling, and for…” Harry continued, but hesitated for a second, “that,” He finished, flicking his head back towards the bedroom door that he’d left ajar.

“What was that?” Molly asked. She saw Harry’s throat twitch, the lump in his neck bobbing under the skin as he stepped a little closer, his thighs resting against the arm of his sofa.

“Lola’s my god daughter,” Harry told Molly confidently, holding himself tall, his words laced with conviction, making himself look as strong as possible even if he was feeling weaker. Again he swallowed on nothing, flicking his tongue over his lips. “Ellie is an old friend, she called last night to ask if I could watch Lola today for a bit, I hardly get to see her so I said yes without really thinking,” Harry explained calmly, though there was a slight shiver in his voice.

“Hardly get to see her? It looks like she adores you?” Molly pointed out, finding it difficult to forget how easily Lola had rested in Harry’s arms, and how comfortable and content she’d looked resting on his hip and toying with his hair. Harry cleared his throat quietly before continuing again, looking past Molly to the window for a second, seemingly checking over his words. Molly wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t say anything, he was talking, and that was something.

“It’s fairly new is more what I mean,” Harry added. “Ellie and I, we, well uh, we don’t exactly know each other for the best reasons,” Harry tried, scratching the back of his neck as he did so.

“What do you mean?” Molly asked, turning fully to Harry and pulling her knees up into her chest, her feet finding a home under one of the cushions that had fallen from its perch when she’d taken her seat.

“Really?” Harry winced. Molly just nodded, and Harry sighed, rounding the edge of the couch and taking a seat on the coffee table opposite Molly. She turned again to face him, still holding her knees against herself. He made it sound like Molly might not be sure she wanted to hear what he had to say, but really it was him that wasn’t sure he wanted to say it. The thing was once he let her in, took of some of the armour, it was easy for the rest to fall away, and far harder to put it back on, to ask to her leave again, to shut the door after her and pretend like the space hadn’t changed for her existing in it. Once he said it, he couldn’t un say it. “Ellie and I used to,” Harry hesitated again, looking to the ceiling, perhaps for some divine inspiration, but more likely just the best word for what it was that had happened. “Fool around,” he settled on; “years ago, years and years ago, it was nothing, stupid, at least for me, but I was a dick to her, next thing I know she’s having a baby and doesn’t want me anywhere near her, not that I blame her for that, but over the last couple of years we’ve gotten close again, both grown up a lot, we were close friends before we started, y’know, and I guess we’re in that place again so she asked me to be Lola’s godfather,” Harry explained quickly, the words reeling out of him as if he were reading his favourite story.

“Why would you not just tell me that rather than say ‘something’ had come up, I would have understood,” Molly promised, staring back at his face, a picture of regret. As he sighed his whole body moved with it, shoulders rising and falling, his lips pinching between his teeth.

“I don’t know,” Harry breathed, shaking his head and looking down at his clasped together hands, the rings making them look even bigger and bulkier than they were.

“Cause you wanted to keep me at arms length,” Molly told him with a flick of her eyebrows. Harry’s face fell instantly, a deep frown creasing his brow, his lips pouting a little more than normal and parting just slightly, just enough to let air pass, as he contemplated what Molly had said. Though he could clearly make no sense of it, as if he didn’t even know he’d been doing it.

“Huh?” He asked, his lips barely moving at all, the almost word pushing past almost unnoticed.

“It’s what you do, keep me at a distance until you’re forced to let me in,” Molly told him with a certainty she hated. She didn’t want to feel like that, she didn’t want it to be that obvious to her, but it was, and it hurt her just as much as it clearly hurt Harry, dropping his head again, curls falling over his shoulders and hovering in mid air around him.

“It’s not like that,” Harry mumbled down to his feet.

“How is it then? Because I’m really struggling to see it any other way,” Molly informed him, dropping her knees to sit cross legged.

“Ellie has only just let me into Lola’s life, she could take her away again at any moment, I…”

“Think I could be the reason she might do that?” Molly offered for him, quietly, a little saddened by the idea.

“No, no, not at all,” Harry corrected quickly moving closer to Molly his hands reaching out for her, but never quite finding her. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” Harry sighed, shaking his head and falling back from Molly again. “I don’t have a real reason for not telling you the truth, apart from I’m just used to keeping people at a distance,” Harry guessed with a shrug. If it was anything he’d ever paid any sort of mind to, he wasn’t showing it. It appeared like he was learning as much as Molly, like it was all intrinsic to him, like it was all wired into him.

“Why?” Molly asked, finding the bravery to do so somewhere deep inside. Her voice was quiet, barely audible above the constant hum of the world, but her eyes never left Harry. Harry sucked his cheeks in, beginning to chew on them as he looked back at Molly, looking for something, but Molly couldn’t tell what. Maybe the part of her he could trust, or maybe looking for parts he couldn’t, reasons not to say another word, not to let another piece of armour fall.

“Cause people I let in have a tendency to fuck off,” Harry told Molly bluntly, with a nonchalant shrug that suggested that what he was saying didn’t hurt as much as it clearly did. Molly sighed and moved forward to sit as a mirror of Harry, bending over, resting her arms on her knees and clasping her hands together so her first nearly bumped Harry’s.

“I’m not going to fuck off, the only reason I’m going to go anywhere is if you keep shutting me out all the time, or if you ask me too,” Molly promised him, holding his eyes as she said it. He stared straight back at her, his eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. He swallowed it down, literally, the corner of his mouth twitching just a touch.

“I’m not going to ask you to fuck off,” Harry sort of whispered, unclasping his hands to wrap them around hers. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,” He told her, giving her hands, how cirlcled up in his, a gentle squeeze.

“Then can you start letting me in, cause I feel like I don’t even know you sometimes, everytime I think I’ve got you figured out it ends up like this,” Molly lamented twisting their hands a little so one of hers was on the outside of one of his, her thumb gently sliding back and forth along the the ridge of his hand.

“I’m sorry, I am trying,” Harry told her.

“I know,” Molly nodded, offering a gentle, almost one sided, smile. It didn’t seem enough for Harry though, who looked down at the hands and turned his mouth down, bottom lip jutting out before he twisted his mouth to one side.

“I’m sorry for letting you down today,” Harry said, lifting his eyes just slightly to look at her again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Molly told him with a shake of her head.

“No it does, I should have told Ellie no,” Harry decided. Molly didn’t begrudge him now she knew the truth of it, she didn’t hold it against him, wanting to spend time with his goddaughter, it was fine. It just would have been nice to have been told that. There would have been no stopping them rearranging to do the fitting in the evening, if he’d only explained.

“Does Ellie have a key?” Molly asked not really sure where it had come from exactly, but knowing there was something tickling in her mind, and sure it would come back to her later if she wasn’t to ask then.

“What? No,” Harry answered, a little befuddled by the question.

“Oh, she was here when I got here,” Molly told Harry, hoping she wasn’t appearing as if what she was saying was coming from a place of mistrust or jealousy.

“There’s a spare under the mat, I told her to let herself in if she got here before we were home,” Harry explained, and Molly took one long, slow nod. “You are more than welcome to use it whenever you want,” Harry told Molly, and it wasn’t a second thought, he was simply letting her know, but Molly shook her head at that. “Why not?” Harry asked, back to confused and unsure again.

“I’m not just gonna let myself into your flat Harry,” Molly told him.

“I’d like you to,” Harry tried with a shrug.

“No,” Molly told him finally. Harry huffed and sat up straighter his hands trailing away from Molly’s. The change was instant, and she could feel the pull of that dreaded square one again, with the same minimal warning signs as ever. Molly sat up as well, her eyebrows dropping a little with the sudden change of pace.

“Thought you wanted me to let you in,” Harry huffed, folding his arms across himself both defensively and immaturely.

“Yeah you let me in, not let myself in,” Molly returned with the tiniest drop of venom.

“Is there a difference?” Harry quizzed with a flick of his eyebrows and a near sarcastic tone in his voice.

“Telling me I can let myself into your flat is not opening up to me,” Molly pointed out. Of course Harry was trying to patch things up, but being told she could use the spare key under his mat wasn’t what Molly wanted, even though it was a sweet gesture. She just wanted a little clarity, to not feel like she was paddling against the tide for a change, like she was drowning in all the possible things he wasn’t saying.

“Ok, so what do you want to know?” Harry asked with a sigh, holding his hands up, as if surrendering, giving up, hopefully realising how little of being kept in the darkness Molly could take, that he really did have to start letting her in, little bit at a time if he wanted her to stay. Molly wanted it to be on his terms, if he wasn’t ready, telling her he wasn’t ready would be enough. But then he had asked, so she took the first step into the unknown.

“How old were you when you left Manchester?” Molly asked gently.

“Fifteen,” Harry told her with a curt nod.

“Why?” Molly went on, pulling her legs back up underneath her, crossing them, and letting her hands fall into her lap. Harry nodded, and looked away for a second, swallowing on nothing. “If you’re not ready, tell me you’re not ready, but don’t tell me just because, or laugh it off, please,” Molly begged. If it seemed unreasonable, she didn’t mean it too, but if she wanted him to be honest, she had to be honest about how she was feeling too. Harry nodded, understanding, and finding her eyes again.

“After my dad died my mum kept coming down so we could see Nan,” Harry started, his voice rougher around the edges than Molly was used to. “I think Nan wanted to keep us close after Dad passed, I was a handful, went off the rails a bit after dad, I suppose that’s normal,” Molly nodded because she supposed it was too, not that she could say for certain of course. “Got in with the wrong crowd that kind of thing, I’ve always been told I was going to be staying with Nan for a weekend so mum could have a bit of a break, but when she left me at Nans that day that was the last time I saw her or Ida,” Harry finished finally, biting his jaw together and his throat clenching hard.

“Your sister?” Molly asked to be sure, and Harry nodded again. “And you were fifteen?” Again Harry nodded. He couldn’t look at Molly, he was trying to, but whenever he got close he just dropped his eyes an inch or two, looking at the rounds of her cheek and the natural rosiness of them. “Did you ever try to find her?” Molly asked, starting to chew on her bottom lip not quite sure where the line was but hoping Harry would make it known when she got close.

“Yeah, a few years ago I had a go, but I gave up, don’t think she wants to be found,” Harry told Molly, and she could hear it was the truth in the tone of his voice, and see it in his eyes.

“What about your sister?” Molly went on, cautiously.

“No idea, couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere, Nan reckons they might have gone to the states, apparently mum always spoke about going but dad didn’t want to leave the family,” Harry explained, and Molly just nodded, taking it all in and appreciating every word like it was gold dust.

“If she came to find you…?” Molly hinted carefully, not sure how that would be taken, not sure if it was even something Harry had contemplated.

“I’d ask for an explanation,” Harry started, and at last he found Molly’s eyes, with confidence, telling her it was something he’d thought about, maybe even imagined, and probably more than once. “I’d have a conversation, but I don’t know if I’d want her back in my life properly, maybe Ida because none of it was her fault, but mum, I’m not sure,” Harry admitted without hesitation or regret.

“You know none of it’s your fault either don’t you?” Molly wondered out loud, eyes narrowing.  Harry shrugged, lips pouting and eyes looking away again. “It’s not, your mum decided to leave you, it’s not your fault,” Molly assured.

“You don’t know that,” Harry pointed out, his words mumbled staring down at his knees. Molly supposed that was true, but still she couldn’t believe it could be the case.

“Why would it be your fault?” Molly asked. Harry shrugged again, sucking his cheek into his mouth, avoiding eye contact at all cost. “Harry,” Molly whispered, moving forward and taking one of his hands in hers, wrapping her fingers between his and clutching him tightly. Harry didn’t look at her, just glanced at their hands, before he started talking.

“I just always thought the way I acted, treated her, like it was her fault dad died, some of the things I did, and don’t ask cause you don’t need to know, and I’m not ready to talk about it, it makes no odds, it was just stupid teenage shit, might have pushed her away.” Molly saw it was hard for him to say, and she appreciated him telling her he wasn’t ready, as much as the rest of it. It was honest, and that’s what she wanted, more than she wanted to know what had happened, more than she wanted to know about his past, and what made him how he was, she wanted his honesty.

“But she took the final steps Harry,” Molly reminded him quietly. Harry didn’t react at all, so Molly carried on, because she couldn’t just sit there and have him think it was his fault, or that letting her in would end the same way, that caring about her, would end with him broken, alone, confused, and hurting. “Don’t blame yourself,” Molly begged, “if this is what it’s about, if you’re scared of pushing me away because of some mistakes you’ve made or whatever, you won’t, as long as you’re honest with me, about things, and you don’t keep shutting me out, I’m not going anywhere,” Molly promised him and she meant it, because she couldn’t see herself walking away. For every part of her that got frustrated at him, there were far more parts, far bigger parts, finding themselves caring about him, loving him even.

“I don’t need you to tell me everything if you’re not ready that’s fine, but don’t pretend there’s nothing to say just tell me you’re not ready, just be honest with me, that’s all I’m asking.” Harry pulled Molly closer with that, up from the couch onto his lap. She took a seat there, on his thighs and let him pull her close. Her head rested on his shoulder and he buried himself into her neck, letting out a long shaky breath into her skin, that left him limp, but still holding her tight, with all the little pieces of his broken, mending heart.

A/N Happy Friday everyone! Hope you enjoy this one. AT LAST some answers, by are they actually the answers? WHO KNOW!?

Let me know what you think, and have a lovely weekend <3

Come Back to the Sea (1)

My contribution to #mermay, because I am not artistic in any form except writing. It’s also chapter 1 of a way longer fic that I have written a lot of. Stay tuned!

Summary: Nessian AU loosely-based on the Little Mermaid

Rated: T

Words: ~3200

Theme song by Ina Wroldsen, “Sea” 

“She is a mermaid, but approach her with caution. Her mind swims at a depth most would drown in.”                                                   -J Iron Word 

“There is a tale we are told as young sailors, about three sisters who grow up separated from each other. As babies, they cry and cry and cry, so that, maybe, someone will hear them and reunite them once more. But they’re never heard by anyone. 

It is said that only the cauldron heard their cries that day and scorned the world for hurting her children. She sent hatred and plagues, poisoned people’s hearts, and still no one listened. It only fueled her rage.

Consumed with anger, The cauldron promised, that one day, when the air was clear, the skies dark and grey, when the earth shook, and the sea trembled, the world would finally hear her children’s cries.

And only the three sisters would be able to save them all from the cauldron’s wrath.”

~

They used to tell her tales about the fear and death that waited above the surface. That the rays of sunlight glittering in the water enslaved anyone who looked for too long, that the light would only blind the curious. They used to tell her of the greed that consumed those who walked on land; the selfishness and anger that shot out of their mouths like they breathed fire. For they did breathe fire and burned anyone who stood in their way.

When she was especially curious, they would whisper stories in her ear― of people with no names or faces littering the world with the bodies of the men they hated. Humans were malicious creatures who’d kill before they even knew why. Maybe they didn’t need a reason.

Humans liked the taste of their flesh, they said, they liked their flesh and their gold. How humans craved their priceless scales and their ruby hearts.

Maybe that’s why they trapped her, under the sea. To keep those humans, monsters, far away from her.

She sometimes wondered if it was harder keeping her away from them.   

We built these walls for you, they’d say.

They hadn’t given her freedom. Or choice. Or power. They had only given her protection, from invisible nets that yearned to take her and imaginary people ready to eat into her with their claws and teeth.

But, it never stopped her from wondering― about the knowledge that consumed them all. If they could have locked her in a tower, they probably would have, because she would never stay behind those city walls. Her curiosity was an urge so bitter and cruel that she could not be trapped in the deep depths of indigo and night.

It’s why she often found herself close to shallow waters, where the rocks met the sea. The jagged ends of stone sharp against her fingertips. A bit more pressure and she’d be surrounded by fish, seaweed, and the cerulean that pulsed beneath her skin. A person of her status should never bleed, she could hear them chastise. But, there was a reason this place was her favorite.

Nesta wasn’t supposed to be here, she wasn’t supposed to go out of the castle walls, or out of the city drenched in sea fire and crystals. All merpeople were forbidden here, but like the many walls they built to keep her in, it had yet to stop her.

They will kill you, they shouted. They will free me, she roared.

In some ways the humans did. They offered her another world, another life, another body that was not her own. One that could dance, and write, and read, and go. Anywhere, that wasn’t down below and far out of reach. If Nesta wanted to know about freedom, she needed only to swim a little farther than her brethren allowed.

Like the many stories they told her, her exploration into the forbidden had started with a book. One day, when she had run far faster than the guards chasing after her, she had a glimpse of the fragmented pages sinking down and down, further into the abyss. Nesta had never seen one, didn’t even know how to read one, but it called to her like a dream. She swam to it, tried to collect its fragile binding and its delicate petals. They only cascaded around her, a whirlpool of possibilities.

When she examined the pages she captured, soaked with salt and sea, the ink ran like blood in her hands, and the pages crumbled to dust.

Nesta was fond of the sea, it had been her constant companion since the day she was born. It had been the only family she needed and the only family she had. But she resented the water that day, for what it took from her. What it kept from her.

She had released the paper in defeat and watched it drift down below into the darkness that hummed so loud she covered her ears.  

Nesta never swam below that great abyss, though it called to her lovingly, whispered her name like a story she had always wanted to hear. But as there were tales about the dangerous, unburdened humans, there were stories about the deep— a trench so dark and menacing that not even the merfolk could spare them the horrors.

She took one look at the darkness, could see nothing beyond the black inky tendrils, and forgot about the book completely. She might have lost many treasures to her fear, and though she chose never to believe in the tales that her nursemaids sang to her, she couldn’t ignore the fear of being sucked in to never return. She had been trapped in many places, had grown up in cages far too small, she would not willingly choose to be subjugated again.  

But she often found herself wandering to the place where the waves crashed against stone and the great abyss whispered her name.

She found many things there, trinkets and bobbles, and color. She’d imagine the world with the items, how the cloth could be wrapped around her or the string could tie back her hair. How the land could be much better by simple inventions and handiwork. It fascinated her completely.  

She kept it all a secret. No one would ever find out, about the treasures she hid past the palace walls. There was only so many rules she could break, before they decided there wasn’t enough.

This time was no different than any of the other times. Except the water was a little warmer, she noted. The deep a little quieter, the trench a little less frightening. The whole ocean was calm, patient even, as it seemed to be waiting.

Nesta waited with it—for the metal sticks with its tiny prongs and the wet paper that turned to mush, floating through the water like she imagined specks of dust in the sky. But nothing glided down the sea. Even the fish swimming around her seemed to wait patiently for the world to collapse.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of something she had never seen before, not in these waters that were deep enough to scare the meridian.

Something glittered, she watched it swim across the waters. The object blinked like unsuspecting eyes. It wasn’t the sunlight though some part of her yearned to feel it. When she put her hand through it, the dot centered on her palm. Her gaze followed the trail to the surface.

The light called to her, entranced some innate part of her that wanted to know. There were many things she wasn’t allowed to do, many things they kept her away from, but she yearned to know everything. As much as it would take to live.

Nesta was so focused on following the light, she never even noticed the fish swimming away, pushing and shoving their way past her. She never even noticed the net.

It enclosed around her slowly, and she pushed around its webbed lies and the school still fighting against their fate. She thrashed and kicked and screamed and nothing budged, Nesta only watched as the trench got darker and farther away, only watched the trench watching her with its obsidian eyes and shallow heart. She swore she could hear it cry out her name.

She stared at it, reaching out as if it would take hold of her hand and pull. She wouldn’t stop fighting the net, even as the abyss did not come to her aid. The fish seemed to wail, but their eyes told her they had already given up. Nesta wondered if they thought she should do the same. But, Nesta would never stop fighting for her freedom.

She screamed, urging the water to help her unravel the net, and nothing. It remained calm around her as she wailed, as she pushed, as her heard surfaced above water, as it became hard to breathe when the water rushed out of her lungs. It scorned her very being in its refusal to help. In that moment, she hated the sea for what it did to her.

But, the water did not protect her.

~

Nesta looked through the webbing and imagined herself soaring through a sea of clouds and mist, a place where griffins or dragons would grab her with sharp talons and take her far away. A princess and a prisoner.

Being above the water had been exciting to dream as a child, frightening to live as she waited for the string to sever and the rope to snap. Dangling above the sea made her wish she had wings instead of a tail. Though it wouldn’t have helped her either when she was captured in a net.

It wasn’t unusual for her to dream of other bodies when she felt trapped by her own; it wasn’t unreasonable as she hung above the precipice. But every time she thought of another life, another body, another name, she could never see herself without some sort of cage, no matter how pretty that cage turned out to be.  

She grasped the rope and yanked. As it did not budge in the water, it did not budge in the sky. She tried clawing at it with her teeth—her canines sharp against the steady material. The rope did not break. All those times Nesta dreamed, she didn’t expect to yearn for the deep or wish that someone would help her. She hated the ocean even more for that.

She swished back and forth, knotting the rope between her fingers. In the distance she could hear bellowing whistles and thundering footsteps. Nesta was almost furious that the net that had taken her was now her only safety measure.

“Captain! I think we’ve got something,” she could hear a man yell through the fog. Young if she were to guess, though she had nothing to compare it to.

She looked around, searching for pairs of legs and hideous faces. Monsters that hid their fury in their eyes. She grasped at the webbing as it jerked forward. Nesta resisted the urge to hide behind silver scales.

“Woah, boys, steady. Lower the net!” Another called, the voice rougher than the other had been, stronger perhaps. Someone more forceful.

In time with his words, the net seemed to lower. The mist cleared a path for her and her innocent gaze. Her body jerked back and forth, but she held on, closing her eyes and pretending it was all a dream. It was only a story.

Her head felt like it was in a bubble and it only popped when the net lowered. Her back ached from the brunt force of the wood. She splashed around the like poor fish gasping for water. Her face hot, the air around her stale and hard. Her chest beat fast, her body convulsing from the pressure.

Sparks of white light danced in her irises. Nesta could feel the earth move beneath her, but it was not her friend. This world seemed to laugh at her, mock her for ever believing she could surpass her birthright.

Nesta heard gasps between bouts of motion sickness. She imagined them surrounding her, sharks intimidating their prey. The rough tune of words made her grasp her tail closer to her body. If she didn’t turn, she couldn’t see them. If she couldn’t see them, they didn’t exist.

This time she was the one telling lies.

“Look what we have here.” He said at last, tapping his foot, urging her to dance to the rhythm. Only then did she look up at his monstrosity.

His face was trapped between young boy and old man. His cheeks were round and red, but the rest of his skin crinkled as his face moved.

Nesta couldn’t really tell his age. Mer-people tended to grow rapidly and rarely did they ever age past what humans deemed standard adulthood. She had met many people who were over 500 years old and rarely did they ever look a day past her own age.

This man however looked both eternal and damned. Like the bitter air had sucked his youth away and replaced it with trouble and deceit. She looked past his gruesome smile and wondered if he too had teeth that extended into sharp points.

He was short and stout with long tendrils of red hair sprouting from the lower half of his face. As he talked, though Nesta could only make up most of his words, she recognized the deep, scratchy tone. She watched him as wet drops of saliva splattered past his mouth and into his beard.

“Release the net.” He demanded, jutting his chin towards her. The man he referred to, stepped in front of him, claiming his position of inferiority.

The man examined her with the crazy, bloodshot eyes. He swayed along, grasping the rope and yanking her tail with it, untangling it from her form. She gasped at the pain, but he merely smiled, fascinated by the noises she made.

This man wasn’t the only one who looked at her like that. She briefly wondered if perhaps they looked at all females like that. Like animals ready to slaughter and maim and control.

They stared at her like they had found gold. She was their treasure.

Nesta was said to be beautiful, even in comparison to gems and pearls. That’s why her people must have loved her so. Her tail glittered like emeralds, her body gleamed like iridescent pearls. Where most merfolk had crustacean shells woven into their skull, she had shells in every color known to coral. Where they had bottomless blue eyes, she had eyes the color of sea glass. They had told stories about her beauty, and yet caged her down below.

She almost wished they had done a better job.

As she looked around, past their hungry gazes, she perused the interior of the ship. It was not what she expected when she had found wooden boards sinking throughout the water. This ship was gangly and old. The wood smelled rotten, and the men smelled worse.

“The king would pay beautifully for her; this whole ship will be swimming in gold.”

The man she imagined was the captain laughed. Little bumps appeared on her flesh as she felt the madness make a way up her body.

“Bind her and take her below deck.”

The fear twisted a fist in her spine, and she wished she had listened to their idiotic rumors and legends. A thought that made her angry, if only because she was trapped in another set of lies and truths. When they had told her those stories, when they made her want to climb out of her own skin, she should have paid more attention. There must have been some ways these humans could be demolished, like the dust they would become.  

Her hatred of them was stronger than her fear.

“Hey Newbie! Tie her up.” He chuckled under his breath, “Under Captain’s orders.”                                                                                                                    

Most of the group kept their eyes locked on her, though they parted to let this man through. He was larger than the others, she noted. Nesta briefly wondered why they seemed to treat him as the inferior, when he looked like he could kill them all.

His black hair curled around his face and his skin glowed with the sun. She supposed he was marginally cleaner than the rest of them.

The man looked at the man with the rope, thought nothing of it until he looked at her, curled up in the middle of the brigade. Nesta couldn’t imagine how she must have looked, but she held onto herself tighter. He grabbed the rope but snatched a piece of cloth from one of the barrels.

The man came towards her, held up his hands as he approached. Her eyes stayed wide and assessing. This human was not going to touch her without losing his fingers, like she had lost her will. But he only held up the large cloth. It was thick, and he seemed to think she was in desperate need.

She was born cold-blooded.

Nesta stared into his eyes, the color she imagined the water would look like when the sun touched the sea. They darkened under her scrutiny, his brows furrowing. He tried reaching out and placing the cloth across her body. She braced herself for the unwanted touch. But the captain slapped the blanket out of his hand, merely staring at her chest.

“She’s a fish, not a human.”

His eyes never left hers and his expression never changed. He was as mysterious as that great abyss they all feared, Nesta wondered if she should fear him. She couldn’t picture humans being anything other than monsters.

He grabbed her arms and tightly wound the rope along the grooves of her wrists, never paying attention to the fear or anger that emanated from her. He didn’t care at all. He was just like the other two-legged crazed humans, just like them in a multitude of ways.

He yanked the cloth off the floor and stepped away. He didn’t look back once. They’d drag her, she supposed, to another cage.

They had told her many stories. One’s that she chose to cherish and ones that she chose to laugh at. About people who came and went on missions to search the great below, where gold was said to be buried under. Nesta had never seen gold outside of the city walls, or where the specks of human filth filtered the water.

But now as she stared at all of them, the men who made her teeth clench, she wondered if maybe she was the treasure they tried to hide—why they built those alabaster walls and pearl encrusted gates and those dreaded, dreaded rules.  

There were other stories, too. Of treasures being cursed to those that claimed it. Greed would lead humans to their own demise.

They grabbed her arms, grabbed her tail, and hoisted her across the ship.

She thrashed, kicking and screaming. Because if she was going to be taken like some treasure they had dug up from the sand and sea, she would make them wish they had never cast their net.

~

Author’s Note: 

The more and more I write, I learn that I am a complete perfectionist and it’s terrible. Took me two weeks to write this one chapter because it wasn’t ever good enough to me and every time I thought that I wanted to quit. But I’m no quitter and I actually really planned this story out, and I’ve written a ton of it already. Editing it just sucks, cause again perfectionist. 

Anyways I hope you like. I’m working on more plot based stories now instead of one-shots, since I want to improve on this skill as a writer. Let me know if you liked this fic or the concept. Reading comments doesn’t really motivate me to write, I just like writing, but it makes me happy to see all the same. And I encourage all of you to let any author who wrote something you like to let them know even if it’s not me (shrugs). 

I value and cherish your comments, and I’m sure all fanfic writers feel the same about that. 

Long note over :D