#I keep going back to prev chapters like did I miss something but it don’t seem like it

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Anybody else feel like the more recent jjk chapters keep feeling like they are skipping key moments like… is this on purpose

[formulawolff]

vi. morning confessional - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.5k

warnings: i typed this entire chapter on my phone while i was at work, so if there are any spelling errors, oopsies! cursing, age gaps, power imbalances, yearning, tons of yearning, oral (f! receiving), mentions of sex, teasing, slight praise kink, slight size kink, yadayadayada

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rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, causing you to stir. scrunching your nose, a yawn takes hold. at the action, his arms instinctively pull you in closer, smothering your face in his chest.

“good morning.”

“good morning beautiful girl,” his voice is thick with sleep, and oh so sexy, “how did you sleep?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“better than usual.”

“me too,” soft lips connect with your temple, “what time is it?”

yawning once more, you roll over, plucking your phone off the nightstand.

“8:38 a.m.”

“shit.”

“somewhere to be?”

“yes,” the team principal groans, rubbing his eyes, “unfortunately i am running very late for it. i’ll just let my assistant know i can’t make it.”

“oops,” you shrug, collapsing back into his arms, “why can’t you just stay every night?”

“you know why, schatzi,” he murmurs, squeezing you, “this is going to be a long two weeks.”

“awww,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “is someone going to miss me?”

“you have no idea.”

“we’ll be in japan. that will surely be exciting,” you begin to run your hand through his hair, melting as his lashes flutter.

“and you know what comes after japan.”

“miami,” you suck in a breath, “that still gives me some time to consider everything.”

“just don’t overthink it,” one eye opens, “if you overdo it, you’ll start to reconsider every little thing.”

“i know,” you exhale, “it’s just overwhelming. i don’t like disappointing people either.”

“oh i know,” toto leans in, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “you tend to put on this facade that you’re selfish, doing things only for your gain. however, i have learned that deep down, you’re a huge people pleaser. that’s why you’ve been dragging your feet in giving me your answer. you don’t want hurt james. you don’t want to disappoint the team. most of all, you don’t want to face the backlash that will follow.”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up in your eyes. they threaten to spill over, and his brows furrow, “oh schatzi, i didn’t mean to hurt your—“

“no,” you sniffle, “i just hate that you’re right.”

“you don’t have to spend your life pleasing others, you know,” his arms engulf you in an embrace, rubbing circles on your back as you weep into his chest, “you’re allowed to make decisions for yourself. you need to do what you feel is best.”

“but there’s just one thing that i can’t shake,” the words are barely coherent, but he hears them anyway.

“and that is?” he inquires, kneading into your shoulder blades.

“i want to be with you at mercedes. i’m just scared that if something happens between us, i’ll regret my decision.”

“us?”

your eyes snap open, panic settling in, “i-i, um, i — i didn’t mean anything by that, i just—“

“you want an us?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“i-i mean,” your voice falters, “isn’t it inevitably going to happen if we keep seeing one another? one of us is going to develop feelings and we’re going to—“

lips crash into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs. it’s a passionate kiss, needy and brimmed with hunger. fingers tangle in your hair, tugging at the roots as you whimper, his tongue licking along your lower lip. he sucks on it, the hand on your back delving lower and lower, gripping the curve of your ass.

a noise rumbles in the base of this throat as you suck on his tongue, the kisses growing sloppier and messier by the second. the noise is guttural, almost like a growl.

he pulls away momentarily, panting slightly, “who is to say that the feelings aren’t already there?”

“toto you don’t—“

“i do,” shifting his weight, he pins you to the bed, “like i said, i didn’t have a crush. i can’t stop thinking about you. every single time i think about racing, or my drivers, or even mercedes in general, my thoughts wander to you.”

as he takes you in, you can’t help but gaze into his eyes, your hand reaching out. fingers brush his cheek tenderly, tracing the lines that scoured his face. his lashes flutter at your touch, his chest heaving as your fingertips wander, memorizing every minuscule detail.

your fingertips land on his lips, “i just need to know one thing.”

“what is it, love?”

“this offer, signing me as a driver to mercedes. is it business or is it personal?” preparing for the worst, you feel yourself instinctively shy away.

yet, he isn’t fazed, maintaining eye contact, “do you want my honest answer?”

“of course i do.”

“personal. completely personal,” there’s a glint in his mocha depths, an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“ever since i saw that photo of you, signing that contract with williams, i knew i wouldn’t be able to resist you. i tried, i really tried to maintain my distance. to stay away. but i can’t. there’s something about you that draws me in. i don’t quite know what, but i know that i need you by my side. at mercedes, where i can make you a world champion. my world champion. i would make my golden girl a world champion.”

“toto,” you begin, but he continues, pressing a finger to your mouth.

“yes, it would be good for mercedes to sign on a driver with your talent. our reputation would benefit. you have the qualities of a mercedes driver. but this isn’t about business. this is personal. it always has been. it always will be.”

“i-i,” you stutter, the temperature of the room elevated as toto’s mouth inches closer and closer to yours, “i don’t know—“

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” his voice is low and thready, consumed with desire, “i know it’s a lot. there’s a lot to consider and a lot at stake. but for now, just focus on me. can you do that for me baby?”

nodding meekly, anticipation takes a hold as he lowers his head, mouth connecting with your heated skin. the kisses travel further and further down, his hands finding yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“so beautiful,” he whispers, “so, so, so breathtaking.”

“so are you—“

a moan fills the space as his mouth envelops your clit through your panties. he groans at your reaction, knuckles turning white as you squirm, gripping your hands tightly.

“take them off, please.”

“so you do beg,” he taunts, his breath hot as it fans against your inner thighs, “what do you need again, schatzi?”

“i need you,” you whimper, dripping with desire, “i need you, toto wolff.”

“i’ll take care of you baby,” his pupils are dilated, blush tinging his cheeks, “just relax, and let me take care of you.”

at the sight of you beneath him, aching for his touch, toto nearly unravels.

was he dreaming? or was this heaven?

god, you were so fucking beautiful like this. all needy and desperate. between your thighs, he couldn’t help but notice the wet spot pooling in your panties. goosebumps riddled your arms and legs, yet your skin was so soft and warm.

you were practically inviting him in.

and how could he resist?

“is this okay?” the team principal tugs on the hem of your panties.

“yes,” the corners of his lips curl into a smirk at your quick response, “please, toto.”

dragging the fabric down your legs, he relishes how they glow in the morning light.

every part of you was so beautiful. every. single. part.

“open your legs,” strong hands grasp your thighs, the command sending a shiver down your spine, “i need to see that perfect pussy.”

you can’t help but obey, shielding your face instinctively as he situates himself, mouth merely centimeters from your drenched pussy.

if your body was an altar, toto was prepared to worship, savoring and praising every inch of you until there was nothing left.

“don’t hide,” he tuts, “i want you to watch.”

“but—“

a hand, your hand, covers your mouth as his tongue delves between your folds, your back arching. fingertips dig into your hips, holding you in place.

toto was a starving man. and fuck, did you taste so fucking good.

he couldn’t get enough, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue explores every inch of you. his tongue applies pressure to your clit as he sucks lightly, swirling in circles as you buck your hips.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

toto didn’t have to ask if you were close. he could sense it, the way your muscles were beginning to tense up. the way your hips rocked back and forth, practically riding his tongue. the way your voice was growing louder and louder, yearning for more and more.

already this close and he had barely even started?

fuck, was he going to have fun with you.

“toto,” there it was again, his name from your lips, “toto, i’m going to — you’re going to make me cum.”

“you deserve it,” he pulls away, mouth and chin glistening, “you deserve it baby. cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the words coax you to the edge, and you feel a finger wedge its way into your tight hole, your walls stretch, adjusting to the size of his finger. just as you get used to one, he shoves another inside, pumping them in and out, curling once they’re inside.

the euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave as his mouth plants kisses over your clit, practically making out with your pussy. you feel your walls close in, the pleasure wound up tightly in your lower abdomen.

“toto,” you’re almost breathless, “i-i’m going to cum.”

moans flood toto’s ears as you orgasm, your thighs squeezing against his ears. your muscles twitch and shudder, juices dribbling down his chin.

pressing one last kiss to your pussy, he catches his breath, wiping his chin.

before you know it, two fingers are pressed against your lips, “taste yourself.”

opening wide, your tongue dances along the digits, licking them clean. toto watches in awe, a fiery hunger burning within.

it took every fiber of his being not to just spread you open again, filling you up, claiming you.

claiming what was rightfully his.

“oh my god,” you exhale, scrambling to muster a single coherent thought, “that was—“

“you’ll get more.”

your back meets with the mattress once again, hands on your head, “holy shit.”

“never had a man make you cum like that before?” you want to slap the smug smirk off his face.

but you stop yourself, feeling a frown form as he plucks his clothes off of the floor, shoving his legs into his slacks.

“leaving so soon?”

“i have to go,” relief ripples from your head to your toes as you sense his disappointment. he was just as upset to go, “i want to stay baby, but i have about sixty-two missed calls and seventy texts. they’re wondering where i am and i need to get going.”

“that’s all right,” reaching for own phone, you wonder if you were in a similar predicament.

you couldn’t quite remember, but you were sure you had missed a few meetings. one of them was more than likely with the press. one was probably a team meeting before the next destination.

“what’s going to be your excuse?”

toto pauses momentarily, leaning over to give you a swift peck, “the answer is simple. they won’t get one. they don’t need to know where i was.”

“someone’s grumpy,” you giggle as you notice the prominent frown.

“yeah i am.”

“and why’s that?” you arch a brow.

“because i want to fuck the shit out of you,” the casual delivery has you reeling, your heart fluttering as he shoves his arms into his dress shirt.

“i want to watch you cum again and again and again. but i can’t. i have to go about my day as if i didn’t just taste pure ambrosia on my tongue. i have to sit there and answer phone calls, emails, my team, and act like nothing ever happened.”

“is it hard for you?”

“of course it’s hard,” toto runs a hand through his hair, and you pick out the tightness of his jaw as he speaks, “i want to tell someone. i want to tell someone how the most beautiful woman in the world has me wrapped around her finger. how i’m putty in her hands. but i can’t.”

“toto, i—“

“i hate to interrupt you,” he crosses over to the bed once again, scooping you up in his embrace, “but i really have to go. i’ll text you, okay? maybe we can rendezvous at some point in these next few weeks. i’ll fly you out. you wouldn’t have to pay a single penny.”

“okay,” you nod, inhaling his scent one last time, attempting to memorize the way his arms feel around your frame. it was far too quick, toto pulling away, tousling your hair.

“be a good girl for me. i’ll see you soon.”

“i’ll see you soon, toto.”

and just like that, he was gone.

biting your lip, you curl up on the mattress, throwing the comforter over your body.

you shouldn’t cry. not over this.

but why did you feel that urge? why was it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus on anything other than the team principal?

yeah, you had a crush on him. that was years ago, when you were a teenager. that was innocent, a young girl swooning over a man nearly three times her age.

now, that crush was developing into something much more. something far more complex that you could have ever imagined.

you were falling head over heels for toto wolff, whether you liked it or not.

and you couldn’t fight it, no matter how hard you tried to push those feelings away. you had tried to seal them away in a box, throwing out the key.

somehow toto had found that damn key.

he was the key, really.

and who knew what would happen if you opened the lid to that box.

however, there were far more pressing matters.

picking up your phone, you scroll through your messages, notifications, and emails.

there was nothing too crazy you missed, just a quick debrief before you all left for home for the next week or so.

although, one particular text caught your eye.

it was james, sent about fifteen minutes ago.

good morning, american girl! i’m not sure if you’re aware, but the fia has made their decision concerning your tussle with george. it’s not good, but it’s not bad either. i figured you were probably not feeling up to the team meeting since you got pretty banged up from the crash. get some rest, then give me a call when you can.

also, is there a reason why toto wolff approached me yesterday? he was asking about your contract. do you have any idea what that was about?

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[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 13: One Of Us

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: Jungkook doesn’t seem to be angry for the reasons you expected.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, injuries, blood, more guilt and self-doubt, past parental death

a/n: something about jungkook skidding a 180 to stop his bike and just running into the storm.... yeah🥵

A faint knock disturbed Jungkook.

Half-standing from where he had been sat rigid on his bed, he found himself facing Jimin. The other man peeped sheepishly around the door, head dipped apologetically.

Although Jungkook didn’t want to scare his hyung, it was impossible to shake the tension from his frame. The venomous exchange with you still ran hot through his veins. He did feel somewhat responsible for dispelling the group with his foul mood when he had returned upstairs. Maybe they had gathered up and saw fit to invite him again?

It was probably what he needed, even if he didn’t feel particularly sociable right now – so long as you weren’t there. He could do without a reminder…

“Have you seen Y/N?”

Eyes snapping back to Jimin, Jungkook’s brows twitched irritably.

“No,” he shot, incredulous.

At Jimin’s slight wince, Jungkook did feel a bit guilty and swallowed away some of his attitude.

“Okay, I didn’t think so…”

Still, Jimin hovered there biting his lip instead of leaving. He took a breath and eyed Jungkook carefully again.

“But you guys… spoke, right?” Jungkook’s brow raised. That was a generous way to put it. Jimin pressed on, “where did she go after?”

Jungkook straightened up fully.

“I don’t know…” he blinked, confused, frown rapidly clearing to be replaced with apprehension. “Why?”

Jimin’s hand curled tighter around the door. He dropped his eyes before speaking.

“We just… can’t find her right now.”

Jungkook’s face screwed up, uncomprehending.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“Yah, Jimin-ah,” a call stole both men’s attention.

Stepping further into Jungkook’s room, Jimin made way for Yoongi to stride in. The older man stopped, looking to Jungkook.

“Do you know where she is?”

“No!”

Yoongi breathed out steadily, then turned to Jimin. Dipping his chin, his next tone was quieter, making Jungkook strain to catch it.

“The training rooms are clear. Jin’s lab, too.”

Huffing quietly, Jimin shifted on restless feet. Suddenly looking up, he decided to keep questioning Jungkook.

“What did you guys even talk about? What did you say to her?”

Jungkook’s head was spinning. Had you seriously gone missing? Would you have left? He thought his heart dropped enough at the notion that he could have driven you out with his words-

Until the next thought crossed his mind with terrifying clarity.

Oh. Oh.

“Shit.”

All eyes snapped to Jungkook, who stared ahead without seeing. For a moment, they held their breath with him.

Then he blinked rapidly, shutting his gaping mouth.

“She’s gone after him.”

It was Jimin and Yoongi’s turn to gape.

“What?” Jimin shook his head, blinking.

“She’s really not here?” Jungkook reiterated.

Yoongi shook his head.

Jungkook’s only response was a decisive step forwards, walking between the others, who backed out of his way, startled.

“She’s gone after Monsoon?” Jimin echoed as he passed, his voice a hollow whisper.

Equally horrified, Yoongi stared at Jungkook.

“Is she mental?”

Jungkook cocked his head but didn’t stop, only looking over his shoulder in the doorway.

“You hadn’t noticed?”

Carving a beeline through the space, Jungkook drew the eyes of the rest of the group that stood nervously around the space. Even Namjoon was there. Hobi was still looking around, as if he might find you under one of the sofa cushions if he just looked hard enough.

Scurrying after him, Jimin offered an explanation after Jungkook stayed stubbornly quiet.

“He says she’s run off to… to Monsoon.”

Namjoon’s head snapped around to Jungkook.

“She told you that?”

“You think she would tell any of us if that was her plan?” Jungkook retorted, without looking around. He was bending down to observe something below the counter.

“What-? she wouldn’t,” Jin insisted.

“Then why are there keys missing?” Jungkook straightened up.

Namjoon cursed.

“She’s walking to her death,” he then muttered, marching to the door, “we need to find her. Now.”

And so it was all action for the second time that day.

Jungkook was close behind his leader, already swinging a set of keys from his fingers. Tugging a hand roughly through his hair, his feet flew down the steps to the garage.

“And where are we meant to look?” Jin asked, rushing to catch up.

Pausing in the entrance, Namjoon locked eyes with Jungkook.

“Wherever we might find Monsoon.”

Jungkook gave a single nod.

“Alright. Hope, Jimin, with me,” Namjoon jabbed his thumb towards a car and they were off.

Jin peeled away with V and Yoongi while Jungkook forced his legs not to break into a sprint. He hot-footed it to his bike, threw a leg over and was away before any of the others.

Whizzing into the night, rain whipped about his face. Speeding through the buffeting wind forced his mind outwards, on squinting through the storm and not on you. Wherever you had got to. He prayed he wasn't right – but picturing the way you had never quit when he fought you, how you had recklessly trained even at the risk of losing control of your powers… he couldn’t see another explanation for your disappearance.

He couldn’t explain the certainty he felt about it. Didn’t want to.

So he urged his bike faster, the engine roaring below him the only comfort as it ate up the road between you.

The radio crackled through the storm, the others coordinating their destinations. Needless to say, you would be somewhere along the docks, but that didn’t narrow it down much. Jin was heading north, the others central.

Jungkook never responded, his original intentions unchanged.

At the first opportunity, he turned towards the river. He ditched his bike right at the end of the docks, where the concrete became earth banks again. Hardly caring to park it, he only left it upright by sheer luck as he took off running the moment the engine cut.

The storm was thicker here, rain slicing his vision. Blundering on, frustration knotted tighter within him at each stretch of empty paving. Dark shapes loomed, but each was just a piece of machinery, or another container dotted about between the floodlighting.

His heart jolted dangerously at a sound from the radio.

“We’re definitely on the right track,” Namjoon spoke, “the car’s here.”

Somehow that didn’t make Jungkook feel any better. An abandoned car, an abandoned dockyard… where were you?

One more look back, just in case, before he rounded the next large container, impatient eyes roving the desolate scene. It was as he stepped into the light on the other side that a rogue wave was thrown against the bank some way ahead. The slap of water and fountain of spray drew his eyes. Flecks caught the floodlight and rained back to earth in a shower of gold, before the wave was beaten back by the same wind that coaxed it up.

A gust pushed damp hair into Jungkook’s eyes. He brushed it back, eyes fixed on the same spot.

Where the river retreated, something remained.

Heart plummeting like a stone, his vision tunnelled, only seeing the path to you.

His feet moved before his thoughts. Racing towards the body slumped on the ground. No, no, no…

Then, movement. Slowly, you brought your elbows up, palms pushing you from the ground. One hand stayed there, steadying, as you clumsily got your legs below you.

Standing with trepidation, you hardly had time to look around before Jungkook was on you.

He ran to you without slowing, grabbed you, his rough hands finding your arms, wide eyes scanning you intensely. One hand held you steady, but the other shifted instantly to your face.

“Have you lost your mind?!”

Breathless, you simply stared at the man in front of you. No answer found its way to your lips even when his eyes flicked up to meet yours. They burned, but not in a way you were used to. Fear and disbelief blazed brightest in his gaze.

The fingertips at your jaw shook. His thumb hovered on your cheekbone, where blood wept from the cut, diluted in spots by the rain.

His gaze swooped back down to eye it, thumb finally making careful contact with your cold skin. Next, he found the gash above your eye. His jaw tightened, but his severe grip eased to a something gentler at your shoulder.

After the last hellish moments, it felt all too good to be held within his hands.

Meeting your eyes again, he suddenly blinked. Pulled back minutely, as if startled.

As mild mortification took over his features, his touch lightened on your arm, but didn’t disappear. His hand lifted from your face, and for a moment he stared in horror at the bloodied digits.

Then he dropped it, looking sharply back up at you.

Before he could make his last ditch effort to save face and step back completely, he felt you sag into his hand. With the shock of your most blatant injuries wearing off, he tuned into the way you shivered, out of breath, and cradled one arm closer to you.

“What the hell were you thinking-? What did he do to you?”

Jungkook’s heated tone wore off halfway through the questions.

Giving in, he stepped closer, raising a hesitant arm on your other side. Still breathing a little too fast, you latched onto it without a thought, grasping his elbow to lean on, panting.

Even through your exhaustion, cold shame permeated you. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I couldn’t get it back,” you admitted.

Jungkook frowned down at you incredulously, even though you didn’t see.

“And you’re insane for trying,” he muttered, already twisting to scan the area you found yourselves in.

Releasing the hand on your shoulder but keeping the arm which bore your weight, he steered you both towards the nearest shipping container.

“We’re going home, alright?”

It hardly sounded like a question.

More wobbly on your feet than you were ready to admit, you followed without protest despite your confusion. Jungkook should be throwing you to the curb! This was your second failure of the day. Your whiplash only increased when you stopped in the relative shelter of a container and Jungkook shook one arm from his jacket.

The river had chilled you, but it wasn’t only the temperature difference that burned when his hand touched yours. He eased your fingers from him for a moment, just long enough to slip off his other sleeve.

It was only then that he hesitated, glancing at the jacket in his hand, and then at you, a little shaken.

He didn’t look you in the eyes as he slung it around you at last. But his pretence at concentrating on fixing it around your shoulders was disrupted at a hiss from you.

You bit your lip, but it was too late. Jungkook pulled back, eyes zeroing in on the slash through your sodden top, hanging away from the bloody cut beneath. Then to the wrist you hurriedly shielded with your other hand.

“Hey,” he murmured, “let me see.”

Before you could convince yourself to object, tentative fingertips were gingerly sliding up your waterlogged sleeve to reveal the deep bruising there, patterned by the sole of Monsoon's boot.

Pure worry filled Jungkook's eyes and he gulped. It was too much for you to look at.

“Thank you,” you murmured, tugging at the heavenly warm jacket and ignoring the sting.

Jungkook nodded absently.

“We’ll wait here… Do you need to sit down?”

Neither of you were meeting the other’s eyes. You chewed your cheek. As much as you wished you could stand strong and prove to Jungkook that you had any respectability left, your legs were not on the same page.

You sank to the ground, grip on Jungkook slipping away. Your frozen hands retreated to the warmth inside his jacket instead.

Only letting his eyes linger on you for a moment, Jungkook forced his gaze to the churning river as he finally remembered his radio. It was hopeless really; he only got as far as lifting the device to his mouth before his eyes were back on you. You were too static, hunched into yourself. The only movement was the creeping of droplets from your hair down his jacket.

This was not what you were. Quiet and surrender were not things that went together with the girl he knew.

Had he done this?

“Hey, hyungs–” so lost in thought, he surprised himself when he spoke “–I found her.”

The response was instant.

“Thank fu-”

“Hey, you really got her?”

“Where are you guys?”

Quickly sending over the location, Jungkook eyed you again. You hadn’t reacted to anything going on around you.

“Hey, I think she needs to go back in the car,” he added quietly.

He pocketed his radio. Then instantly regretted it. Now he was at a loss for what to do with his hands, and he hesitated between staying standing or sitting beside you. Opting for the latter, he purposely tore his eyes from you to lessen the effect.

Stiffening as he lowered himself to your side, you glanced over at him. The floodlighting looked gold on his cheeks, his skin glowing with the sheen of rain coating his face. It only made you feel duller in comparison.

Unable to resist the insistent feeling of your eyes on him, Jungkook finally glanced back.

You sucked in a breath, shoulders raising. Your gaze was all too nervous, watching him warily. And though you were clearly soaked to the bone, he wasn’t sure all the water on your face was from the river and not your own eyes.

The strength of your remorse removed all words you could have used to express it.

I’m so sorry… You sounded pathetic even in your head. Was there anything you could say to Jungkook to make what you had done better?

The warmth of him beside you was already more than you deserved.

Jungkook’s hands were sandwiched between his knees, carefully leaving a space between the two of you. But the longer he looked, his limbs acted almost by themselves. He pinched his lip between his teeth, but didn’t falter. Pulling one hand free, he crossed the no-man’s land. Towards the blood he couldn’t bear to see there, where it cascaded into your eye, one drop outlining your jaw.

The back of his fingers drew closer. When they met your cheek, running steadily upwards to wipe the bleeding, you could have cried. Holding your breath, you gave in and closed your eyes. It shouldn’t feel so… intimate, but the drag of his hand was too visceral to ignore.

Light behind your eyelids made you snap them open again. And then squint.

Blaring headlights swung around, illuminating your momentary hiding spot.

Jungkook’s warmth retreated, leaving you with only the heat of your own blood spilling over your face.

Straightening up, you heard an engine cut out and doors slam. You were still struggling up from the floor when the guys reached you.

“Are you okay?” Hope was the first to ask.

Then Jimin’s hand was on your shoulder. Namjoon emerged behind them.

“Glad we found you,” he said.

Blinking uselessly at each of them gathering around you, your throat was totally uncooperative. You parted your lips, but gave up just as Jin completed your group. Looking you up and down, he tried to ease the tension with a chuckle.

“Wow, you look like you came from the river!” he joked, until his face fell a second later. “…wait- did you-?”

All you could do was stare, too distracted to answer him. What were they all doing here? After what you had done, they came after you?

You should have hated it. You were sorely ashamed, bowing your head under the weight of their concern. But somewhere deep down, you weren’t surprised. Back there in the river, you had dared to hope they would come for you, like they always did. Like you would for them.

But you felt incredibly small for having to count on them nonetheless.

Unconsciously, your feet took you a step back, closer to Jungkook. Shrinking away from the overwhelming tide of emotions you weren’t prepared to face yet.

“I think we all just want to get home,” Jimin smiled softly.

Namjoon nodded, the first to turn away, lessening the glare of the spotlight you felt on you in the centre.

“Yoongi’s going to take the other car,” he said.

Good – you had completely forgotten you had driven here at all. Everything was a blur between your consecutive fights with Jungkook and Monsoon.

Just as you were beginning to debate which one had stung more, a soft hand in yours tugged you from your mind again. Looking up, you found V quietly pulling you along towards a car. He didn’t meet your eyes. Your throat felt tight again at such a simple act guiding you when you needed it.

Blindly following your friend, you glanced back once more. Jungkook’s eyes were already on you, unreadable.

“See you back home.”

Then he dipped his head, slipping past you into the storm.

Your tired body had clearly clocked out on the drive home, finally able to sink into yourself in the silence of the car. You had to admit you felt a bit bad for Jin, who loved to talk. Being stuck in a car with you while you were practically too ashamed to speak, and V who was always quiet, must have made it a long journey.

He got a few words out of you. Honestly, you felt obliged to answer his questions. You owed him – owed them all – some honesty.

If you had to say anything unprompted, though, you were sure all you would muster up was repeated apologies. You felt the heat of them frenetic beneath your skin. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

When you arrived, pulling in just after the other cars, only Jungkook still to follow on his bike, you realised just how drained you were. Each step felt like a balancing act as you climbed the stairs, like your legs weren’t quite attached to you.

“So you remembered Monsoon’s base just from seeing the maps way back?” Jin carried on the conversation you hardly registered having, “no wonder Kuyang had you as his secretary. Too bad, we’ve got you now!”

Those words cracked through your distracted haze. As he left you with a pat on the back, you stared after him.

Had he not seen what had happened all day? A treacherous glimmer of hope sparked in you, as if they could still want you on the team. He must be pretending.

“Any dinner requests?” Yoongi asked from the table.

“Uh, um, I don’t mind,” you spoke quietly, “anything is good… thanks.”

Stopping in front of a chair, you never sat. The lot of them filled up the house like always, thankfully not all staring at you, but the appreciation you normally felt for the buzz of people only made you feel far away right now.

Eyes darting to your feet, you noticed the water clinging to your shoes, miniature pools left in your footsteps. Everyone was damp from the rain, but you were a different story. Your clothes clung uncomfortably, and you were suddenly aware of the constricting fabric now it pressed against your skin like this.

“I’ll just… go clean up,” you muttered, finally taking the chance to flee from the people you had wronged. The people who shouldn’t have cared enough to come pick you up from a death wish of an escapade in the middle of a storm.

Falling against the bathroom door at last, you put up with the soggy clothing for a moment longer, needing a pause. Head resting back against the wood, you breathed. Closed your eyes, felt your hands shaking.

Then you pushed away. A spurt of energy had you ridding yourself of your clothes in a hurry, tugging free of the fabric weighted down with cursed water.

Hurling them into the bathtub, you grabbed a towel next and sunk into it. The soft fabric felt like a dream, from somewhere warm where you hadn’t made such a terrible mistake.

When you pulled away, it was bloodstained.

Shoulders drooping, you continued to dry yourself without looking at it. Nor did you want to look at yourself in the mirror. Somehow, you would have to attempt a fix for the wounds you had just acquired, which pulled and stung as you twisted to dry your back. Gritting your teeth, you kept at it. You didn’t really know what you should do, and were mainly counting on your powers to heal them up fast, but you weren’t about to trouble any of the others for help. They had done enough.

You turned next to a stack of dry clothes.

It was as a sweater dropped over your eyes that someone knocked.

The sound wasn’t soft. Only hesitating for a moment, you gave in and found the person on the other side just as decisive as his knock.

Jungkook stood with his arms folded. Expectant.

Your poked your head out, looked at him warily.

He had enough of your waiting and tugged his arms free, pulling the door open and marching inside.

The breath caught in your chest as you backed up, bracing yourself. He would be right to chew you out right now. He had been right earlier too, you saw that now-

“We could have lost you!”

Your eyes were fixed on him. Couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink.

You thought you had been prepared, but the fierceness of his tone took even you off-guard. Not to mention the words it was paired with. You hadn’t expected that. But as they sunk in, they brought your heart down with them.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” your voice was quiet, but perfectly clear in the confined space.

His eyes only hardened.

“Don’t talk like that.”

While his eyes pierced you, his tone was less abrasive. If you hadn’t known better, it would almost have sounded like begging.

It even succeeded in making you shut up for a short time. But you forced your jaw to cooperate, breathed in.

“But… but I-” sighing roughly, you dropped your gaze to the side. Glared at yourself in the mirror. “I fucked up. I ruined it, I let Monsoon get what he-”

An abrupt step forwards cut you off. Startled, you looked up to find Jungkook snatching the first aid box from the side and stalking towards you.

“Sit down,” he instructed.

Struck dumb for the second time, you did.

He followed. He knelt down right in front of you, and started unpacking stuff from the medical kit as if this was completely normal. Or perhaps to avoid having to face that it wasn’t.

“I would say you should’ve known he would do a number on you-” Jungkook began, to which you sighed.

“I’m lucky I even made it out alive, I know, I know-”

“Hardly,” Jungkook scoffed, turning back to you with a small cloth in hand, “if it was luck, yours would have run out by now.”

You blinked. And then tried hard to avoid blinking, because he leaned forward to press the wipe above your eye.

You swallowed against the sting. Swallowed harder when his other hand lightly steadied your temple on the opposite side.

“You really think I’m good luck, after today?”

A self-depreciating downward tilt dragged at your lips.

Jungkook, on the other hand, chuckled. It was brief, but it was there, a joyful quirk of his mouth.

“No.”

Your heart shouldn’t have sunk at his agreement.

His eyes flicked to yours, then away again as he focussed on his task. But he surprised you, and spoke again.

“I thought you were good luck before today.”

Though your mouth opened, you found all words had been robbed from you. Now, with your staring, he refused to catch your gaze again.

Resigned to not understanding him at all, you shut your mouth and sat in the silence for another minute. He changed cloths, chucking a now-red one away and moving on to swipe at the stickier blood that lingered on your cheek and jaw.

Somehow, in the peaceful bathroom, with his light touches on your skin, you could finally look over the recent whirlwind of events with clarity. Unfortunately, your embarrassment only burned brighter when you examined it through such a magnifying lens.

Looking hesitantly up at Jungkook as he worked, you cleared your throat.

“How did you find me?”

He spent a second longer, one more long swipe over your cheekbone, before sitting back.

“Because that’s what I would have done. If I wanted to make things right.”

“But I didn’t manage to.”

Jungkook just shrugged.

“That depends. What were you trying to prove?”

“I-I- nothing! I don’t know” – you fell forwards, elbows on knees – “I wanted to get the gun back... that’s what we lost. What you were mad about, before.”

Jungkook didn’t move away, even when you slumped closer. His face looked a little pinched.

“Sure,” he spoke, voice only loud enough to travel the short distance to you, and no further. “But it was also… I was afraid. Because I had started- no, I trusted you. I didn’t want you to throw it back in my face now that I care-”

The end of his sentence snapped into silence like bone china, but the silence after the break was deafening. Reeling from what was thrown. The echoes rang in your skull.

He removed his gaze, staring somewhere to the side.

When you finally recovered your voice your words were simple, quiet.

“I’m sorry.”

Another moment passed. You couldn’t even hear your own breathing. Only saw his chest rise as he inhaled.

Then he levelled you with a gaze. His eyes sharpened as you observed each other.

“What for?”

You swallowed, shoulders sagging, but forced yourself not to look away.

“I’ve broken it. Our trust.”

“You showed me how badly you didn’t want it to break,” he pointed out.

Slowly, your mouth opened, something leaping perilously in your chest. Denying it, you frowned.

“Does that make a difference? I still didn’t fix anything…”

Letting out a breath through his nose, Jungkook dropped his cloth into the first aid bag and folded his arms loosely.

“If you still need to prove it to me, you can tell me why, then. Why you fight.”

His head raised as he cocked his chin up. Face blank, save for the challenging glint of his eye.

Shocked, you straightened up without thinking. Drew your arms back to your sides. This may have been the first time he had given you the chance to explain yourself. The first time he had offered himself to listen.

It took you a moment to gather yourself. Or rather, to wait until you were sure he wasn’t joking. What you had to say was already there, waiting on your tongue.

“I was just a spare… I was in the way, and that was all he needed to dispose of me. And other people… aren’t so lucky. I was given another chance, somehow. I needed to do something with it. I wasn’t part of Bolt’s plot, but that shouldn’t mean I’m not allowed to have my own.”

“You’re right.”

You could only stare, a curious frown shifting your face imperceptibly when Jungkook responded so promptly.

“Other people aren’t so lucky,” he carried on, slower now. His eyes shone under the bathroom lights. “My dad–” his voice unexpectedly gave out on him. His eyes darted down, only for a second, tongue briefly wetting his lips “–my dad was a guard. We didn’t have much money, he didn’t have much choice. So he worked for the first guy who would pay him a steady salary. Then Bolt-”

Horror had well and truly sunk into your bones before Jungkook even had to stop for the second time, choking on the word. Your body felt far away again. All you could see was Jungkook’s face as he staunchly forced his lips into an even line.

“He left the boss alive,” something bitter edged Jungkook’s voice. “He’s in prison. Bolt got his trophy. He has the kind of power that means people will overlook the cost.

“I was thirteen.”

You were stunned. You could only stare at him, lips parted stupidly as what he just told you sunk in. All this time, he had looked at you the way he did because… because you were exactly what he and his dad never got. Not only did you survive Bolt, you then basically became him.

You weren’t Bolt, not by a long shot. Jungkook had made sure of that, all while trying to prove to himself that you were.

But even trying to imagine what he must have thought of you was making your head spin. It would have been easier on him to hate you.

You could hardly breathe, but words were tumbling from your mouth anyway.

“I’m so sorry. Fuck, Jungkook…”

Jungkook was looking at you again. His eyes glistened, yes, but on the surface he held it together, the depth of his sadness flowing beneath.

Bending your head under the weight of understanding, your eyes rested on your hands. Lifting them, you turned them over. The same lightning that ran through your palms had torn his life apart long before Bolt ever turned his sights to you.

You had lived. Why you?

“I’m sorry he never got the chance I did.” Your sentences landed far apart, sparing. What could you say? “It should have been him.”

“I’m glad you got them.”

Time slowed down as Jungkook’s words made impact. You nearly choked on them.

You stared back at him, not breathing. The gaze he returned was level, totally serious. Had you heard him right?

“You’re good, Y/N-”

He dipped his head at last, but didn’t break the eye contact for long. He eyed you as if waiting for you to laugh in his face. Like he couldn’t believe he was saying this, either.

“And you do the right thing. So when you screwed up… I know you never meant for that to happen. You know what went wrong, and you won’t do it again. I know that. So I shouldn’t have-”

Huffing, he looked roughly to one side, jamming a hand into his hair. Glowered into the counter as he kept speaking.

“But it hurt more because it was you. I want you to be with… us. The-the boys all love you a lot, okay? You’re one of us now.”

Jungkook was distracted from his determination to avoid looking at you by a sniffle. You had already pushed the back of your hand against your mouth.

Though you tried for a glare, the awe in it did weaken the effect. You shook your head.

“I hate you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The look that flashed over his face was almost comically hurt.

“I-I thought I was done,” you rambled, “all I want is to be part of this team, I thought I had blown it- and now you’ve made me cry!”

Swiping at the couple of escaped tears with one hand, you jabbed the other one accusingly towards Jungkook. But you only meant a fraction of the venom, and he knew it. His lips tightened the way they did when he tried to suppress a smile.

When he held his hands up as if in surrender, you lowered yours. A watery sigh escaped you.

“You say this now, after you made me think I had to prove it to you all over again-”

Deflating, his stance softened. Dropping his hands, one of them hovered before landing on the closed toilet lid an inch from your knee.

“I never meant that. About you needing to suffer… I know you already have.” He chewed his lip for a moment before something sparked behind his eyes. “But hey, you ran off and did exactly that! I thought your whole point was that you didn’t want to-!”

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help the grin breaking out. Shifting, your leg dislodged Jungkook’s hand. His fingertips stilled where they now found themselves grazing your leg.

“We’re both idiots,” you concluded.

“Hey, don’t tell the others!”

With a breathy laugh, you gratefully felt some weight dissolve from your shoulders. Even after the laughter wore off, you felt yourself smiling faintly at your lap and took the chance to blink back your tears.

One was knocked free, shooting down your cheek-

Only to be intercepted by a finger.

Jungkook froze, hand still on your face, and gulped. A second too late to look natural, he glanced down with a gesturing nod.

“That’ll hurt like a bitch in that cut.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.”

The pad of his thumb dragged away the salty water while you tried very hard not to look too hard at anything. Or to close your eyes. Would that be worse?

Then he moved backwards again, reaching for something new. The wound on your cheek was a cleaner cut, easier to deal with. As he wiped it a few times with a fresh gauze, his hand finally placed itself steadily over your knee.

A new kind of silence settled as he pressed two strips over each gash.

“You, um…” he withdrew his hand, “you should rest. And eat. Yeah. Eat, and rest.”

You nodded.

“Yeah, I should.”

Looking over to the door, you dragged your lip between your teeth. In fairness, Jungkook had been your biggest concern. But you had still royally fucked up today. Twice. You had the rest of your group to make it up to.

Maybe braving it sooner would be easiest. As much as you didn’t have the energy for it, they could recharge you. You all gave back to each other in the end.

Sensing your reservation, Jungkook stood.

“Hey,” he called your attention back to him, “they were just worried.”

“I guess they’ll be a piece of cake now, after you,” you couldn’t help smiling, “you’re the most obstinate one, after all.”

As you finished speaking, you followed him to stand, shooting a smirk into his affronted face. It looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to be offended or amused – until all that was erased as you crossed closer to him on your way to the door.

Your expression, too, faded. Your steps fell too sluggishly, but his gravity slowed them without your meaning to. It left you locked in his eyes for too long.

With your breath trapped in your throat, you had no idea how you managed it. Your voice sounded without premeditation, low but clear with your sincerity.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

And then you turned, leaving him trying to recover his own racing heart behind you.

Thank you for reading!!💜💜

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[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

4th of July Special [IKYLHT]

~2.9k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter [Coming Soon]

Hope you enjoy this very very overdue special chapter. It's part of the larger timeline of the story but considering we just had the 4th not too long ago I figured I'd post what I had so far just to keep you held over until chapter 8 is finished. It will very much be expanded upon in due time. Much love

-

There are three holidays you force yourself to celebrate as an active member of the military.

Veterans Day, the obvious.

Memorial Day, also obvious.

And the great ol’ 4th of July. Independence Day, a celebration of our great freedoms, our national pride.

More importantly- a day filled with beer, fireworks, and a rack of ribs, all without the threat of having to clock in that morning.

The boys had called you a yank when you’d first suggested it, mentioned something about the ridiculousness of the American desire to clog your arteries while lighting shit on fire.

The sweat of the 98° day dripping down Johnny's back, soon to be washed away by cool pool water. An ice cooler filled with Coronas, freshly cut limes on the table. Slow cooked rack of ribs on each plate while the burgers sizzle on the grill. These were things you’d pitched to the boys only moments before they’d laughed in your face.

The idea of leaving the Queen’s land to shack it up with a bunch of blue-coats celebrating the day they’d left the commonwealth felt blasphemous, especially for Simon and Price, the true patriots they are. Kyle didn’t care much, he’d actually been quite excited to visit the US again. The west coast was unexplored to him, and he’d be lying if the prospect of seeing a few celebrities during his stay in California didn’t excite him. Truthfully, Johnny would take any chance to subtly spite the Brits. He’s a proper Scot, after all.

But you’d pushed the idea hard.

It was Sparks’ annual 4th of July barbeque and there was no way in hell you were going to run the risk of missing him lose a finger trying to light the extra explosive fireworks he’d bought after a mission in Texas.

You’d gone that route first- having Shane call Price to personally invite the task force to his home in San Diego with the promise of good food and drinks. When the invitation didn’t seem to make it to the group chat, you’d stepped up your game. You thought maybe a polite Captain-to-Captain request from Griggs would suffice. It did not.

Fortunately, you were in the perfect position to seal the deal.

“You know, I just think it’d be a great team bonding activity.”

You hear his groan as your movement stops, feel the way his hands fly up to grasp at your waist, but you ignore him entirely.

“I don’t understand why you insist on impeding my job, John. I thought it was a captain’s duty to assist his subordinates?”

His fingers dig into your hips, trying their best to move you but you keep yourself steadily perched atop his lap.

“I think this is team bonding enough, love.”

You look around the room, turning your head as far as you can in each direction, before you settle your eyes on his form once more.

“I don’t see the rest of them. Seems like it’s just you and me here, Price.”

A small moan he clearly tried to conceal slips out as you lean forward, planting your hands on his sweaty chest and feeling the way his heart quickly patters. The bed shifts under you, sheets molten hot with your combined heat.

“Want me to go get them? I can roam the base in search of them. Would be faster if I skipped getting redressed-”

“-Alright, alright. I’m listening.”

You go to speak but shoot him a stern glance as you feel him attempt to move from under you.

The coy smile he lets out feeds your soul, his cheeks flushed from exertion, eyes hungry with want.

“We’re going.”

He laughs, eyes glancing down to where he throbs inside you.

“You think this is the best time to bring this back up, sweetheart?”

Shifting enough to make his breath hitch, you flash your own big smile.

“I do.”

Glancing at his watch, he quietly huffs as he mulls over his options.

“California?”

“Yes”

“During peak travel season…”

“Yup”

“For a holiday only you celebrate?”

“In a country you don't wanna revisit. I know, it’s not ideal.”

“So we’re doing it because?”

“Because it’s for me, John. We’re doing it for me. So I can go home.” Your smile is pleading.

He gives a small nod, lifting your hand off his chest and kissing the back of it.

“Okay. I’ll call Sparks and let him know we’re coming.”

“It’s okay! I’ll just text him-” You can’t control your smile, damn near flying off the bed to grab your phone if it weren’t for Price hooking an arm around you and flipping you beneath him.

“-You can text him once we’re done here. I still have another fifteen minutes with you.”

Admittedly, you didn’t call Shane until the following morning.

With Price on your side, it was easy getting everything in order. He dealt with the logistics- plane tickets, hotels, rental cars- while you did the fun part.

Helping the boys pack.

Kyle was by far the easiest. He naturally had good style, all you’d needed to do was inform him of the typical San Diego weather and how to transition those outfits into something a little cooler for when you’d venture up to Los Angeles.

Simon and Price came next. Simon’s was physically easier, just more mental gymnastics. Despite being in many’a hot biome before, he refused to admit his all black ensemble just wouldn’t do. Cargo pants and combat boots weren’t adequate pool party attire, especially when you knew he’d want to prove his usefulness attending to anything he possibly could (you prayed Shane had fixed the dishwasher leak or you knew you wouldn’t be seeing Simon until well past sunset). Price was more physically demanding. He didn’t care much what you dressed him in, he trusted you enough to ensure he stepped outside looking handsome- you’re 99% sure someone had told him about the ‘girlfriend effect’ and he just ran with it. The difficult part was actually buying the clothes. He had no problem handing his card over, but he didn’t seem to want to send sizes, measurements, color preferences, anything of use. You’d resorted to taking a measuring tape to his biceps as he oversaw drill exercises, the width of his shoulders as he sat doing paperwork, the length of each limb as he stood at the gym’s cable machine.

Johnny was quite a bit more difficult. Having been to your home in LA a few times before, he knew how hot it’d get in the dead of summer and thus decided it was prime time to dress in nothing but swim trunks and his favorite pair of vans. Despite being told numerous times that he’d need to pack at least one shirt, every time you checked his suitcase that shirt seemed to have vanished. Your only saving grace was Price’s scolding when he’d gone over the group’s tax write offs and seen the recurring £5.25 Tesco charge for a single men’s t-shirt.

Still, somehow you’d all managed to make it in one piece. And best of all, without a single complaint.

Price stood at the grill chatting with Griggs about various meat charring techniques while Ghost supervised refereed the game of chicken Soap and Gaz were playing with the rest of the Demon Dogs.

The liquor was free flowing and gave you the opportunity to utilize this annual event for what it truly was- a chance to check up on everyone.

And who better to do it with than your closest confidant and his therapist wife.

Convenient, really.

“How’ve you been, kid?”

Nodding as you glance over at Johnny balancing Kyle upon his shoulders, you can’t help but smile.

“We’ve had our moments. Can’t complain, though.”

Alison nods, and you see her head tilt ever so slightly. She’s going into work mode as best she can without raising your suspicions. She’s well trained, probably what’s saved her marriage with Shane. To her dismay, you are also well trained.

“How do you see your future together?"

“Alison, you'd know better than most that people like us don’t get futures.”

“You can spare her the melodramatic self loathing, she’ll just whack you upside the head.”

She glares at Shane’s retort, gives him that ‘stop joking I’m trying to fix shit’ look you’ve seen so many times before.

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. Genuinely. I think it’ll be good though. I love him… and all that mushy shit you’re dying to hear me say.”

“Okay. Well, that’s a start. What about the rest of the task force? Do you think you work well as a team?”

“Oh yeah, we’re a well oiled machine. My doing, of course. Successful or not, our missions can always be described as top tier.”

“And how about off-mission? Do you get along with everyone?”

You fight the urge to glance over at the four men whose hands you’d put your entire life into in more ways than one.

“Uh, yeah. We’re good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah.” You shrug.

Her response is cut off before she could even start it, two shorts car honks bouncing off the wood of the open side gate leading to the front of the property. She cranes her neck to see the car from her position in the backyard, just catching the conversation between Raines and his wife as they begin to unload the car.

Alison turns back to you after waving hello, pointing a finger and making a stern face.

“We’re not done here.”

“Aye Aye ma’am.” You jokingly salute her as you internally thank Raines’ kids for making him late to every event he’s ever been invited to.

You and Shane wave to the couple as she walks up to say her greetings, Shane walking towards the cooler to grab two beers.

“I warned her against interrogating you. But we all know how she feels about listening to me.”

“She’s lucky. She’s the only one that can ignore you and call you a dumbass without repercussion. Sometimes I envy her.”

Popping off the cap, he makes his way to two lounger seats off in the corner of the fenced backyard, plopping down with a sigh.

“Gonna have to retire soon. Or take up being a desk jockey. Whatever keeps my knees from going out.”

“Not showing up to your PT appointments, Sparks? I do recall you scolding me for doing the same.”

“I’ve been showing up, that’s the problem. Ain’t bouncing back like I used to.”

You nod in understanding. You’re not even that old and the aches had already settled in. The military really does take your best years.

“Alright, kid. Enough stalling. How’ve you really been doing?”

“I told you, Johnny and I have been good-”

“-I don’t mean your relationship. I know you two are doing good. God knows I’d be getting a call from MacTavish asking how to fix it if y’all weren’t. I mean about the mission.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. It was fine. It’s over.”

“Heard it was a rough one up top.”

“Uh, yeah. Always is, I guess. We would’ve loved to have traded places with you.”

“Don’t underestimate the stairs, kid. Was damn near out of breath by the time we’d gotten up there.”

You let out a hum, more of an acknowledgement than an agreement.

“I know it’s hard for you to sit and watch. But you gotta remember your roots, Water.”

A snort escapes you, humor and nostalgia behind it.

“Haven’t heard you call me that in what, five years?”

“You retired it. You may call me an asshole but I do have a heart.”

“Well-”

“-Don’t change the subject, Carrots.”

“You know I’m still mad you told Kyle-”

“-Rabbit. Come on. Talk to me, kid.”

He stares you down, gives that same stern look you’d always seen after cracking a joke a little too soon after a mission gone awry.

“Nightmares?”

“A couple.” You murmured with a shrug.

“Just a couple?”

“A few.” You manage another murmur.

He studies your side profile a moment longer before trailing his eyes towards your line of vision.

Kyle sits on the pool ledge right where the deep end becomes standable again, using his dry hand to feed Johnny chips from the paper plate he teeters on his thigh. Every time Soap gestures as he speaks, pool water flings from his position standing in front of Kyle’s shins and onto the plate.

Shane thinks back to the first time you’d shown up to an event like this. He watched you, a newly-appointed baby-faced private first class awkwardly clutching a plate with a burger you had no intention of eating, and was reminded of how out of place you had felt in this small sliver of normalcy.

He thinks back to how utterly determined you seemed to not make friends, to not form attachments.

He thinks back to how, despite your reservations, you found yourself slowly easing into the environment.

Despite being so quick to adapt, you’d never been fond of change. And you couldn’t be more different now from the person you were before.

He thinks about how embarrassing it was for you to admit you'd even been having nightmares, let alone what they were about.

“Ok kid. I’ll let you avoid interrogation for now. No use in ruinin’ a good barbeque.”

You pat his knee with an appreciative smile before you heave yourself out of the low chair, setting your sights back onto Kyle as he rejoins Johnny in the pool.

“Hey Rabbit?” You hear Sparks call out after you.

You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

You look at his blank face. You’ve known Shane long enough to tell he doesn’t want to spook you off but is begging for answers. He's giving you the opportunity to tell him on your own volition, no questions asked.

There’s a small demon resting in the back of your throat. He decides now’s a good time to carve at your esophagus. He urges you to spit it out so he can escape his imprisonment in your windpipe. To say what can’t be retracted, to just get it out there.

You stay silent, facing forward again and walking up to Price. He scrubs char off the grill rack, seemingly abandoned by Griggs.

That answers who lost the coin toss.

“Hey Cap,” You bump shoulders with him, tugging on the string of his boonie hat that rests against the back of his neck.

“Hey sweetheart” He mumbles back.

“You look handsome” You whisper with a giddy smile.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm”

“Hungry yet?”

“Only for you, big daddy” You manage to get out between a laugh and an over the top wink, just narrowly missing the way he goes to swat at you.

“Behave, Rabbit.”

“I always do, sir” You nearly purr.

As the earlier heat of the day began to cool, the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink. You were finally feeling contentment settle deep into your bones. Your favorite part was soon and very much worth skipping your main meal, even if Price disagreed.

You and Soap had helped set up a small fire pit in the center of the yard- marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars all laid out for s’mores. Kyle, still somewhat in subdued awe of the whole spectacle, watches from your left as the others talked around the fire, their faces illuminated by the steady flame. You watched the way his eyes constantly bounced around, so deeply invested in the stories of your comrades.

Johnny sits between you and Ghost, his usual spot for the last nine months or so since Las Almas. You go to search for Price but are almost startled out of your seat as his arm misses your face by about two inches, draping over your lap a red checkered blanket he’d found thrown over one of the lawn chairs.

You grab his shirt by the collar before he gets the chance to pull away, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

It was risky, there was no guarantee everyone outside of you five had been distracted by the sudden start of the neighbors fireworks, but you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care at that moment.

Grabbing the metal rod Johnny holds out for you, you shove the marshmallow on the prongs and lick the stickiness off your fingertips. You’d always hated the residue, but the practicality of Johnny hand feeding you the squishy candy didn’t negate how sickeningly adorable it was to witness.

“Care for a s’more, Ghost?” you asked, leaning forward and holding out a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

He looked at the stick, then at you, and finally at the fire. It was a simple, almost childlike gesture, but there was something undeniably comforting about it. He took the stick from you with a small nod.

Johnny was already assembling the graham crackers and chocolate for him, adding an additional little chocolate square in the center.

Simon holds the dessert, examining it on all sides before looking up at the group before him. No one is paying any attention to the three of you, something you’d requested from both your old team and Price and Gaz.

You nod as encouragingly as you can when he scans the group once more, whispering just enough to be heard by him.

“It’s alright Simon. Go ahead.”

His black surgical mask is only down for a second before half his face is covered again, now with significantly more graham cracker crumbs settling at the bottom of it then before.

He hands the s’more back over to Johnny as he nods his head.

“See? Not so bad, right?”

Ghost looked over at you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the firelight, and nods once more. “Not bad at all.”

Soap, munching on the last of the s’more, looks over with a smirk.

“Told ya. Next time, we’ll get you on karaoke.”

Simon goes completely deadpan but chuckles softly.

“We’ll see about that.”

-

<3

Taglist:

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[apolloscastellan]

Never quite buried | loss of my life chapter 4

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig x FemaleTennisPlayer!reader

Summary: Your life had always been divided in two: before you met Tashi and after you met Tashi. The second you had laid eyes on her for the first time you knew you had been changed. You were soulmates, meant for each other Nothing could ever tear you two apart, or so you had thought. You could've pinpointed the junior U.S. Open as the night that changed everything. Now you have to juggle your hate-love relationship with tennis with your love-love relationship with Tashi and the two guys who you can't seem to stay away from. Tennis, after all, was only one of the most fucked up relationships of your life.

Warnings: challengers spoiler, challengers content warnings, super minor character death, terrible mother figure, use of y/n, polyamory.

Word count: 6.5K

A/N: Please let me know what you think bc my motivation is severely lacking rn, i feel like i'm writing into the void

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Tashi remembers perfectly the day your retirement from singles hit the news. It was all everyone could talk about. First, it was the statement on your social media. A well thought out paragraph about your struggles with continuing to enjoy tennis the way you used to and deciding to take a new route, it ended with a promise for more and better news soon. Then it was the teasing posts from Adidas, the “she is not done just yet” and the “love conquers all”. It all came to a peak with the release of the pictures of you and Patrick. Both of you wearing matching Adidas apparel, practicing in the private court you had in your backyard. The chemistry between the two of you was obvious to everyone who saw them. There was a glint in your eyes that no one had seen since you went pro. She knew the smile you were giving Patrick all too well, it used to be reserved for her. 

Her and Art, who had just very recently reconnected, sat on his couch for hours watching the tennis channel, waiting for updates. The relief they felt when it was announced that you were not quitting because you were fatally injured, as everyone had originally thought, was short lived. Neither of them spoke as the commentators showed the images of you and Patrick. Practicing, giggling, getting closer, him giving you that teasing smirk they both knew, you throwing your head back laughing, him beaming at you when you weren’t even looking, both of you focused on the ball, kissing… They both thought about turning off the TV, hitting some balls to work out how they were feeling, but then you were introduced into the set, a vibrant smile as you walked in, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt too big to be yours. The Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy logo only confirmed the obvious. You shook hands with everyone, sitting on the sofa they had reserved for you.

“Y/n Y/l/n, thank you for being here” the older man said, over the clapping of the crowd.

“Thanks for having me!”

“What a day it’s been for all of us, tennis fans. You’ve had us on the edge of our seats! First we mourned, now we’re celebrating… Please tell us why did you do this to us?”

“I am so sorry! I am, I really am” you laughed as the man teased you, God how they missed that laugh. “I have a flair for the dramatic, I must admit, and I am, in a way, saying goodbye to my career as I know it. It’s the start of a new chapter, and it’s really exciting, but it is also a goodbye and it felt right to give it its proper moment. I didn’t realize so many people were going to be so upset about it.”

“Why the switch? Why decide to give up singles completely?”

“I wasn’t enjoying it anymore, it was painful and I had started dreading every second of it. Fortunately, I am in a position where I can decide I don’t want to keep doing something that is bringing me down, so I took advantage of it. I didn’t want my stubbornness to completely ruin my love for tennis. I thought I could step back, maybe take up teaching and try to find that passion again. I was going to quit regardless, so this playing doubles thing happened at just the right time.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about that! You’ve decided to become a full time mixed doubles player with Patrick Zweig, who is a challengers player, somewhere in the two-hundreds. You are currently ranked number one in the world, how does this happen?”

“I think rankings and numbers can be misleading sometimes. Sometimes a player is not playing their best because of external reasons, or simply because they are not meant to be where they are. I think me and Patrick are meant to play together, I really do. And if you can’t trust anything else, trust this: I am really competitive and I hate losing, I would not put myself in a situation like this if I really thought we couldn’t win.”

“From what I’ve heard Zweig and you are committed to each other both on and off the court. You’ve never been open about your private life in the media, and he is the first boyfriend you’ve ever made public, what’s different about him?”

They couldn’t take their eyes off you as you let a bashful smile spread on your face.

“I mean…  Everything. I am pretty possessive of my privacy and we still don’t plan to share everything we do, but the truth is that I have never been open about any boyfriends because I have not had any serious relationships since I went pro. Patrick and I will be playing and training together so I thought it was bound to come out, so to me, I'd rather have that happen on my terms. And I do think Patrick is very different to all relationships I’ve had before, in the best way possible”

Art swallowed, refusing to look at Tashi when she turned to watch him. He didn’t deserve to be jealous. He knew that, if he had treated you right, you would still be together. That knowledge didn’t change how he felt.

“How does that happen? How does one manage to make the Y/n Y/l/n fall in love with them?”

“Well, me and Patrick met each other a while ago, at the U.S Junior Open, actually. He won it, I got second, we hit it off instantly. But it was one of those situations where it’s never the right time, you know? We kept missing each other, we were in relationships with other people, and we ended up drifting apart when I went pro. And then, funnily enough, we bumped into each other at an Adidas party about a year ago, and the rest is history.”

Art couldn’t bring himself to be angry when the TV shut off. He turned to look at Tashi who stood there with the remote in her hand, not looking at him. 

“I’ll see you in ten in the court. We need to work on your serve.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for the excuse to take his feelings out on the ball. To think about anything that wasn’t your smile as you talked about Patrick. He didn’t say it out loud, but he knew Tashi felt the same way, the sudden urge to train had not come out of nowhere. 

New Rochelle, New York. August 24, 2019:

You look down, shaking your head as Patrick crashes his racquet repeatedly against the floor. The umpire’s voice ominously announcing the score. You raise your face back up when Patrick gets given a penalty. Art walks nonchalantly back to the bench, you can feel Tashi’s smug grin beside you. You make eye contact with your husband and shake your head, he rubs his face with both hands, then nods. As much as you both don’t really care to win this tournament, he knows you’ll be angry if he just lets it go, gets angry and in his head and lets Art have it on conduct alone. So he sits back and waits, ready to be better, to prove himself to you once again, like every time he steps on the court.

Earlier that week. New Rochelle, New York. August 18, 2019:

Tashi is working, writing stats on her computer when she sees Patrick walking towards her from the corner of her eye. She rolls her eyes as he stops behind her, pointing at her screen before he speaks:

“He’s not bad, I played him at a few of these things when I did singles.”

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be practicing to not humiliate your wife before she carries you through the U.S. Open?”

“I just finished, thanks for caring.”

“Wonderful” she says, not a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Hey, come have a cigarette with me, I have to talk to you.”

“Yeah I don’t smoke, and I’m not talking to you.”

“Neither do I. It was just an excuse.”

She looks back at him, unimpressed, but he doesn’t let up. He stands there, staring at her until she gives in, closing her computer and standing up. Patrick is not sure what he is doing. He probably shouldn’t be doing anything at all, if he’s honest with himself. But he has dug a hole too deep to jump out of now, so he is going to follow through. He is doing this for you, he reminds himself, no matter how angry you’ll be with him at first, he is doing this for you. They find an empty alley and look back at each other, Tashi waits for him to speak, he takes his time collecting his thoughts before he does.

“I’m gonna propose something to you and it’s going to make you angry. It’s going to make you very angry,” he can’t help the smirk growing on his face, her expression doesn’t let up. “I want you to be our coach next season.”

“What?”

“Our coach is retiring, we need someone else. I want you to be our coach from next season on.”

“Does she know you’re offering me this position?”

“No, not yet. But she will, and she’ll agree with me.”

“You know that’s bullshit. Plus, why would I want to coach you guys? I already have a highly successful athlete under my wing.”

“Yeah, but even if he wins the Open and completes his career grand slam, Art’s still gonna retire as someone who was really, really good. That’s what you guys will have done together. But imagine if you could get your hands on us. Imagine if you could make us great. You’d go down in history. We have a couple more seasons. We still have a couple more good seasons and I need you to bring it out of us. What do you think?”

He doesn’t expect Tashi to slap him, turning his face completely, although he really should have. He mumbles a curse under his breath.

“How fucking dare you?” she sounds angry, too angry for his stupid proposition. “You want me to give you my best piece of advice? To coach you? Ok, quit.”

Patrick can’t even begin to think of a response, the murderous gaze Tashi gives him fixes him to the spot.

“Quit right now, right fucking now, quit.”

“What are you talking about?” he is too shocked to be offended.

“You’re dragging her down. She should’ve gone down in history as the best ever player. She would have broken records. She should have been good enough to beat the men, and she is what? Going around playing mixed doubles with you? It’s pathetic. Quit, and maybe she’ll have a chance at being an ounce of what she should’ve been.”

“You’re fucking joking”

And now Patrick is angry too. Because he is tired. He is so tired of the endless comments and judgment. He is tired of being blamed for ruining you and your career as if it hadn’t been your decision. As if it hadn’t been your idea. As if he was capable of ever doing that to you. As if he hadn’t begged for you to think it over a million times before you took a step that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. As if he hadn’t been the sole reason the world of tennis hadn’t lost you completely. As if he didn’t try harder than he had ever tried to be enough for you and make sure you never resented him or regretted being with him in any way. The thing that makes him the most angry, though, is that it’s Tashi. And how dare Tashi, the woman who had abandoned you and ruined your love for tennis in the first place, blame him for something she had pushed you to do. Something that was nobody’s fault but hers.

“You must be fucking delusional if you think for just one second that I would ever, ever, ask her to give up on her career for me. You know whose idea it was to play mixed doubles only? Y/n’s. She thought of it, she asked me to do it, she orchestrated every single little detail. And you wanna know why she did it? Because she hated tennis. She was going to quit. She couldn’t stand the thing she loved the most anymore. And you wanna know what made her start to hate tennis, even though her love for it never wavered before, not even with her borderline abusive mum who only loved her for her talent in it? You, Tashi. You did. You ruined tennis for her. So get the fuck off that high horse you continue to ride everywhere, because if there’s one person here to blame for ruining her career, it’s the one I’m looking at.”

He is out of breath when he finishes speaking, and he doesn't know what to do. He has so much shit he wants to throw at her, so much resentment for all that she had put you, and him, through. But he can’t say anything else, the second Tashi’s expression falls, even if it is only for a moment, he can feel his heart shatter inside his chest. No matter how much he hates Tashi, how much he resents her, he loves her. He loves her so much it hurts deep inside his chest, like an ache that is so present he had almost forgotten it existed. But looking at her right now, he feels it, pulsating all through him, and he knows, with a certainty he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before, that he will never not feel this way about her.

“You don’t know what you’re saying” her voice is stern, but Patrick knows her too well to believe her tone.

“You hate me” it’s not a question. “And you hate her too. Me, for having her. Her for having the career you deserved. And it’s driving you crazy, because as much as you hate us both, you also love us. And as much as you love Art, you hate him too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You hate him because he is just Art, that’s all he can ever be. He will never be me, and he will never be her. And as much as you love him, just Art will never be enough for you.”

“I don’t know what gives you the right to speak about my marriage…”

“The same thing that gives you the right to speak about mine. Does Art know about Atlanta?” he cuts her off.

The pure, unfiltered shock on her face lets him know he has caught her off guard. She did not expect him to know about it. She collects herself quickly, but she doesn’t say anything.

“You keep saying you came here because Art needed matches, but I think you came for something else.”

“You think I came here for you?”

“And for her” he says nodding. “I’ve been signed up for this tournament for months, there’s no way you didn’t see my name in the participants list.”

“You think I came here, to throw it all away for you?”

“Maybe you just wanted to see us…”

“I don’t need to see you to know that you look like shit, and she should get as far away from you as soon as possible.”

She starts to walk away, decisively.

“I’m going to beat him,” he says, it stops her in her tracks, she turns her face to look at him. “If we both make it to the final I’m going to beat him.”

“Even if you did, it wouldn’t change anything.”

“It would break him, you know it would.”

She shakes her head and starts to walk away, too exasperated to come up with another hurtful retort about his failed career. She jogs after her, catching up with her pace almost effortlessly. He grabs her arm, makes her stop walking. He pulls up a piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans.

“My number, in case you change your mind about the coaching… Or about seeing us again.”

“I won’t.”

He nods, shrugs his shoulders. Then, he watches her put the note in her pocket. He smiles.

New Rochelle, New York. August 24, 2019:

Patrick hasn’t looked away from you even once. You know even though you are looking into your lap. You are hyper aware of every single person around you. Most accurately, you are hyper aware of the woman next to you and the two men playing against each other. You play with your ring as you feel Tashi tell Art to focus. When you finally meet Patrick’s eyes he doesn’t smile. He raises his left hand and kisses the ring on his finger without breaking eye contact as the umpire announces the start of the next set. He crosses paths with Art as he makes his way to the other side of the net but he doesn’t move his eyes from you until he is getting ready to serve. You know then, with absolute certainty, that he is doing this for you.

Atlanta Open, Atlanta. July 18, 2011:

Even though Patrick and you both know why you are sitting in the stands during practice time instead of walking around the venue, or actually practicing, you are still shocked when you see Tashi and Art walk into the court. Your hand reaches for Patrick, holding on to his thigh as if on a rollercoaster that is suddenly going down. You both try to look composed and careless, but you don’t know if you are doing a good job. Art and Tashi do the same, pretending they can’t see you, even though you are the only other ones there and you stick out like a sore thumb. Patrick and you talk to each other, although neither of you would be able to recall anything said during your conversation, and share the fries you had bought before walking over. You pretend you just casually stumbled to sit there for a snack, that you hadn’t checked the schedule to figure out what time and what court Art Donaldson had for pre-match practice. Art hits the ball like he hasn’t been able to hit it in a while, grunting as his racket made contact with it. Tashi looks at you for a second, then back at Art. She nods, satisfied. You want to run away, want to erase that satisfied smirk from her face and your memory. But you stay glued to your seat, hand in your boyfriend’s thigh, heart pounding, and you take the way they ignore you like a punishment.

New Rochelle, New York. August 23, 2019:

The wind is relentless, the trees hitting against the window making repetitive thwack noises that remind Patrick of the sound of the ball hitting the racket. You have been answering emails and making calls to finish preparing things for tomorrow, the U.S. Open, and whatever lies in store for you both after that. Patrick knows that you’ve been messaging potential coaches and though the guilt pit on his stomach keeps growing, he can’t bring himself to say anything to you. He hopes you haven’t set in stone anything, because he is still delusionally confident that Tashi will accept his offer. He knows he should help, whatever you are doing affects him too, but he is too nervous to do anything productive so he just lays around, throwing a ball against the ceiling, or the wall, or whatever he can find. After the third time the ball slips from his hand too early or too late and hits you, you stand up and point to the door.

“Leave, right now” he makes no attempt to move. “Patrick, I mean it. I’m working and I know that you are nervous but you’re stressing me out so go down to the sauna, or get a drink or something that’s not going to make me ask you for a divorce or have to spend the rest of the night finding a place to hide your body.”

Patrick smiles as he stands up. He picks one of the keys from your bedside table and walks over to you, kissing your head before making his way to the door.

“I love you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, love you too. Leave now, please.”

He giggles all the way down the elevator. He doesn’t feel like drinking, which means he doesn’t feel like making a fool of himself tomorrow for getting drunk the night before a match, especially not in front of Art and Tashi. So he walks around until he finds the sauna, maybe that will help him calm down. But as he gets naked and opens the door he can’t believe his bad luck. Although there is a white towel covering his face, there is no denying the naked man sitting right in front of him is Art Donaldson. Patrick doesn’t think there’s a world where he wouldn’t recognize him, no matter how much he’s changed from that scrawny blonde boy he once knew like the back of his hand. He thinks about turning around, walking out, pretending he never saw him, and finding something else to do for the night. But there’s no way Art hasn’t heard the door opening, and Patrick has never been one to run from conflict, not really. So he steps forward, lets his mind get a little bit caught up in the past, sue him he hasn’t seen this guy in years, and opens his mouth:

“Can you do me a favor? Can you not like, demolish me tomorrow?” He says it with the inflection of a pick up line, and before he can even finish his sentence Art is pulling the towel away from his face and looking at him like he already knew that it was him standing at the door, even before he said anything.

They are both smiling as Patrick pulls the sauna door closed and walks toward Art. He is acting far more comfortably than he feels, but if he stops to think about what is actually happening he might start shaking and poop his pants, which would be a terrible thing seeing as he isn’t wearing any. He gets way too close to him, and raises one of his legs on the bench, dick fully on display. Art makes a valiant attempt pretending he doesn’t look down.

“Hey, congrats on being a Phil Tire’s Town Challenger finalist.”

“Yeah, you too” Art says, looking forward to not have to look at Patrick, who is smiling far too wide for the situation they are in and the past that they have.

“Hopefully the wind dies down by tomorrow and we can have a fair fight” Patrick lets himself pretend this is normal, like they are two competitors getting ready for the final, maybe even pals catching up after not having seen each other in a while.

Art doesn’t let him have a second of the little fantasy he’s made up in his head, though. He slides down the bench, getting as far away from him as he can without looking like he is actually running away.

“C’mon, can we talk?” Patrick says, and his voice sounds pitiful even to his own ears.

“Can you put your dick away” Art’s voice is stern, but he looks him in the eye for the first time since he walked in, so he counts it as a win.

“This is a sauna,” Patrick scoffs, putting up a fight so Art won’t notice he’d do anything he told him to. “Look, we've been here for a week and we haven’t said two words to each other. It's just… it’s silly, man. It’s dramatic. I mean, really, why are you so angry with me?”

He sits down, obeying Art and covering his dick. Art is finally looking at him, really looking at him. It has the same effect it did back when they were kids, Art looking at him makes him feel brave. He can’t stop himself from rambling on.

“Look, I don’t buy that it’s because of Tashi, I don’t think it’s because of what happened to her. And I hope it’s not about Y/n, because you have no right… So, I think, maybe, you’re just really disturbed by the fact that they could’ve been into someone like me. Both of them”

“Tashi liked you when we were teenagers.”

“Sure, but I just got married to the girl you said was the love of your life.”

“I ended things with her.”

“And you regret it every single day of your life,” Patrick knew, because it was the same way you and him felt about him and Tashi, “and you know that Tashi does too.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“We both know that if Tashi had been a little more brave back then, she would’ve never taken either of our numbers. If she had been a little bit more honest with herself, she would’ve swept Y/n away and neither of us would’ve had a chance with either of them.”

“That still happened when they were teenagers. When we were teenagers.”

“Huh” Patrick looks thoughtful. “When they were teenagers…”

Atlanta Open, Atlanta. July 18, 2011:

You slip out of your room in a t-shirt that is definitely not yours and the first shorts you stumble across on your way to the door. You can’t sleep and Patrick’s soft snores, which you often find endearing, are getting on your nerves. He doesn’t stir, even as you close the door softly behind you. You don’t know what you are doing, or where you’re going. You take the stairs down, needing to move your body for a little bit. You walk outside, feeling like no matter how hard you breathe in there’s not enough air in your lungs. You lay your weight against the brick wall of the hotel. You get your breathing under control after a couple minutes of staring at the sky trying to look for constellations you don’t know the name of anyways. When you turn around, to go back inside the hotel, you realize that right next to where you were standing there’s a window to the hotel’s bar. There, sitting down, nursing a glass that you can only assume contains something strong, already staring at you, is Tashi Duncan. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you let your feet guide you inside. Then, instead of going up the stairs like you should, you take a right turn and walk right into the bar. Tashi finds you immediately, having been looking at the door. You don’t understand what you’re doing, but before you can think about it you are sitting right in front of her. You haven’t looked at her this up close in years. You search, but you can’t find many differences. She looks exactly like the girl you knew with her hair a little shorter. You wonder if it’s the same on the inside, if the million secrets you knew about her still hold true. If you could still tell which of her smiles were fake, or when she was about to cry but was trying to hold it down.

“I heard you gave up,” she whispers after a minute of staring into each other’s eyes.

“I quit singles, I didn’t give up,” but you can tell she doesn’t really believe you, so you scan her, trying to find something else to talk about. Your eyes lock on the ring in her finger. “That’s a gorgeous ring.”

Your fingers find your own ring instinctively. You don’t know if you’re trying to make sure it’s still there, or if you are trying to ask your dad for strength. Her gaze lowers, first to your ring, then to her own.

“It’s his grandmother’s.”

You nod, you know what that means. Art had always talked about wanting to propose to his future wife with his grandmother’s ring. Back when he fantasized with you about it, it was your hand that ring ended up on. He always talked about taking you to the residency so you could meet his grandmother, completely sure she would love you and give you her blessing immediately. You think of your own sentimental family ring, unsure you would ever be able to trust anyone enough to carry it, no matter how much you loved them.

“How is she?” you ask, more out of politeness than anything else, you never got to meet her, after all.

“She died. Stroke”

You grimace, knowing the feeling of losing the one person who truly believes in you too well.  You look around, trying desperately to find something to say, you will your brain to remember the million icebreakers and conversation starters you had been forced to memorize for the awfully boring networking parties your mum used to throw for you. You come up with nothing, so you look back at her and lean over the table and she imitates you. Your faces inches away from each other. You feel drunk even though you haven’t had a single sip of alcohol all day. You don’t question it, Tashi always made you feel like you were going crazy and a little bit drunk. It must be that what pushes you to say what comes out of your mouth next:

“I miss you.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she leans further over the table, getting impossible close to your face without touching it. Then, when you are completely sure she is going to tell you to go fuck yourself and leave her alone, her hand makes her way to the back of your neck pushing you towards her until your eyes meet. There might be a million things that have changed since the last time you did this, but kissing Tashi Duncan feels exactly the same as the first time you did it. It feels like coming home.

New Rochelle, New York. August 23, 2019:

“You’re right” Art says finally, leaning his back against the wall. “I do find it disturbing.”

“There’s no need, man. Lots of girls were into me, but only one of them wanted to marry me. I’ve always thought that was not what I was for, so I don’t know how I did it.”

“Yeah, neither do I.”

Patrick feels his entire skin burn with the way Art looks him up and down. He curses in his head the years they’ve spent apart and the secretive, mature person Art has become, he can’t read him like he could. He can’t tell if he is teasing, or trying to humiliate him. He can’t tell if he’s angry, or just as desperately sad as he is.

Atlanta Open, Atlanta. July 18, 2011:

You don’t know how but you and Tashi have stumbled onto a hotel room that you don’t recognize. It’s much bigger and fancier than yours so you assume it’s hers. You want to ask where Art is, if he is about to walk in on the two of you making out on his bed, but the way she is kissing you makes you forget about everything. You roll onto the bed, hands on either side of her face as hers roam your body freely. It’s too much and not enough simultaneously and you moan and pant on her lips. It’s everything you’ve always dreamt of and you can’t help wanting more. More of her and her body, of her lips, more of her heart. You try to not be greedy, take what she gives you, and soon you’re seeing stars and rolling over, breathing with difficulty.

“That was…” 

“Yeah” she mumbles.

“So… What happens now?”

“What do you mean what happens now?” she seems confused as she stands from the bed, walking around until she finds your clothes.

“We just had sex,” you say, obviously.

“Look, we shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake.” She throws your t-shirt at you, you put it on slowly.

“A mistake?” you’re getting angrier by the second, but you don’t want to yell and alert whoever is sleeping in the room next to this one.

“Yeah, we will act as if nothing happened.”

“What about Art?

“He doesn’t need to know,” you shake your head as you finish putting on your clothes.

“That’s fucked up.”

“Do not act as if I was the only one who cheated! Aren’t you and Patrick dating?”

“I never said that! You can’t just run away from everything you refuse to accept. You haven’t talked to me in years!”

“Yeah, and it should have stayed that way.”

“One day you’re going to wake up and realize that everything you’ve refused to accept all your life is catching up to you, and by then, it might be too late.”

“Get out” she says, instead of replying to what you said, you don’t need to be told twice.

You manage to hold back your tears until you are standing in front of the elevator. You’re fully sobbing when the doors open, revealing a very confused Art. You see him step towards you, but you refuse to let either of them continue breaking your heart. You step backwards, then turn around. You run until you find the stairs. By the time you make it back to your room you look like a mess. You knock on the door, you must have left your key in Tashi’s room but you are too upset to care about that or waking Patrick up. His entire face changes when he opens the door. Worry taking over his expression.

“Y/n, what happened? Where were you?

You fall onto his arms, sobbing. He leads you in, closing the door behind you. You don’t speak until you’re both seating in bed.

“I saw Tashi… And I… We…” you don’t say anything else, but you don’t need to, he understands.

He holds you through the night. The next morning, you forfeit the tournament and go home.

New Rochelle, New York. August 23, 2019:

“Honestly, I thought you’d be happy I was in the draw” Patrick is not ready to let it go, to shut up and walk away from Art, he doesn’t know when’s the next time he’ll be able to talk to him again, so he runs his mouth. “I mean, you’ve always wanted to beat me in a tournament, and two weeks before the open… It’s the perfect confidence booster.

He settles on cocky because he doesn’t know what else to do. He has never been very good at being vulnerable, not with Art, and no amount of therapy is going to make him start now, when he can see how done he is with him from a mile away.

“I know what you’re trying to do right now,” Art smiles.

“I’m not trying to do anything, Art,” but he doesn’t know if he’s telling the truth. “This is a challenger, I don’t need to play mind games with you.”

“Right, you don’t give a shit.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that…”

“We both know that you have a considerably higher stake here than I do.”

“Do I?”

Art laughs, but there’s no real humor to it. Patrick does too, trying to conceal the way he is sure his entire body is shaking.

“Oh, fuck… Where do you get your swagger from, man?” Patrick can tell, from the way Art is looking at him, that this is the part that’s going to hurt, he doesn’t try to stop it. “I mean you come in here swinging your dick around like I’m supposed to be afraid of it but do you realize how embarrassing it is that you are here right now?”

“Not quite as embarrassing as you being here,” Patrick has never known a way to back down, so he stirs the pot.

He’d rather have Art yelling at him or humiliating him than not talking to him at all. His therapist would not be very proud.

“I’m just stopping by, man. You would live here if it wasn’t for her” there’s a pause, suddenly Patrick wants to take everything back, run away with his tail between his legs, but it’s too late. “You know, I’ve always tried to figure out what happened to you, but the more I thought about it the more I realized… It’s what didn’t happen. You never grew up. You still think you can talk to me like you’re my peer because we came from the same place, because you’ve managed to stumble into some of the same competitions. But it’s not about where you came from in tennis, Patrick, it’s about winning. And I do, a lot. And you only do because you tricked Y/n into playing with you. But one day, she’s going to wake up and realize she wasted her entire fucking life in a pathetic man who thinks he’s the shit because he won the junior U.S Open a trillion years ago. And then, you’ll be left with what you deserve: nothing.”

“You’ve never beaten me,” he says, as if it’s what matters out of everything he said.

He says it because if he focuses on what Art said about you, he might cry. He doesn’t want to cry, not in front of Art, not right now. He doesn’t have enough willpower to fight him, like he knows he should, like he did with Tashi.

“So what? I haven’t beaten most of the guys who play in these things, or the ones who only make it into the big tournaments playing doubles. This is a game about winning the points that matter.”

“I don’t matter?” he doesn’t know why he says it, or what he is expecting to get in return.

“Not even to the most obsessive tennis fan in the entire world,” his voice is monotone, tired, Patrick wants to crawl out of his skin.

“We’re not talking about tennis.”

“What the fuck else do I have to talk to you about?”

“I wanted to come in here to wish you good luck, Art,” he says, and he means it.

“That makes no sense,” Art scoffs, looking away, he’s talking to himself more than Patrick.

“I wanted to say that I’m looking forward to it, I miss playing with you,” he is being vulnerable, but he knows Art won’t believe him, which is probably why he says it in the first place.

“Yeah,” he nods his head and he looks amused, but Patrick can see right through him, he’s about to finish him off. “Well, I don’t miss playing with you, man. I’m too old for it.”

As soon as the door is closed behind Art, Patrick lets himself drop onto the bench. He tells himself he is not going to cry. There’s tears running down his face by the time you open the door of your room to him. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to, you understand.

[tangledinink]

Oh my goodness, guess what? Chapter 29 of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is now up! And on a Monday, too. Gosh, just like old times. Yet another family secret is revealed from somewhere no one expected it. Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

“No, no, keep watching, seriously! They’re about to do something sooo cool!”

“Leo, you say that about every stupid street magic video you make us watch,” Donnie complained, rolling his eyes. “And it’s always something stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s super cool!” Leo protested, huffing loudly and glaring at his brother in offense. “I pretend to think that your dumb science stuff is cool!”

“No, you don’t!”

“Well, I could, if you didn’t say magic was stupid--”

“We can literally do actual magic!” Donnie cried, throwing his hands up. “And you’re still into this fake bullshit?”

“Yes,” Leo confirmed easily, rewinding the video slightly. “And I’m restarting so that you guys can watch properly. So there.”

Donnie groaned.

“Both of you quit fightin’,” Raph said, shifting slightly so he could look over Leo’s shoulder, seeming only mildly interested at best-- but still interested! Suck it, Donnie. Raph knew something badass when he saw it. Leo grinned, shifting slightly so he could let his brother see better.

“This is a ridiculous waste of time,” Donnie muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re gonna miss the subway home.”

“We’ll get the next one,” Leo assured, waving him off. “It’s fine, Dee. There’s another train, like, every five minutes.”

“What New York City do you live in?” Raph muttered, glancing down at him and raising a brow.

“More or less!” Leo insisted. “I just wanna finish the video, and then we’ll go! We can’t go without Mikey, anyway.”

“What do you mean without--?” Raph’s head bobbed to the left. It bobbed to the right. He did a full 360 spin. “Wha-- Where the hell did he go!? He was here a minute ago!”

“He forgot his gym bag back in the locker room,” Leo said, waving a hand dismissively. “So he ran back to get it.”

“When!?”

“When you and Donnie were arguing about the best Jupiter Jim sequel, like, five minutes ago,” Leo explained breezily, leaning into his brother’s chest as he spoke, passing his weight over for Raph to hold up for the moment. Maybe physically pinning him in place would keep his head from vibrating off his shoulders. It usually helped. “Chill. He’ll be back in a second and then we’ll get out of here. Watch the video.”

“Leo!” Raph protested. “We’re supposed to stay together! Remember!?”

“He’s not even leaving the building, Raph. There’s still a couple kids around! And he’s literally down the hall,” Leo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He’s not five., I’m pretty sure he can handle it without us escorting him.”

“Leo--”

“If you want us to chaperone him down the hall to fetch his bag,” Donnie said, not looking up from his phone. “Then you will be the one informing him of such, dearest Raphala, because I have no intention of being the one to tell him that.”

“It’s like you like Dr. Delicate Touch,” Leo sighed, shaking his head. “Do you miss him when he’s away? Is that it? Is that why you’re like this?”

Raph sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

“Fine,” he finally relented. “But if he’s not back in two minutes, Raph is going after him! And you two are comin’ with me!”

Leo smiled a tiny bit.

“Yeah, okay, deal,” he agreed easily, pressing play on the video again. “Now here, watch. This dude is about to for-real make a whole-ass building disappear!!!”

---

Agent 64’s eyes flew open.

Danger.

There was danger.

He could taste it on the back of his sandpaper tongue. Every hair on his body jumped up on end as he flew to his feet, wriggling from April’s relaxed grip, his back arching and his claws extended.

“Ow! Mayhem, chill! Watch the claws!” April hissed, startled as he suddenly woke from his nap, previously curled up and dozing in her lap, wincing at the prickle in her thigh. “What’s your deal--?”

He would maybe regret hurting her if it weren’t for his heart banging wildly in his ears. He could feel it. There was danger. Something bad was going to happen. Someone was in trouble. His tail puffed up like a bottlebrush, he whipped around wildly to face the human-- both his favorite and his charge-- biting out a frantic, chittering warning. And spirits, he had never wished so desperately up until now that humans were able to understand the nuances of his language. Because while her brows crinkled with concern, a thick fog of confusion colored her eyes glassy all the same.

“Mayhem? What’s wrong, little guy?” She pressed, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. “Are you hurt?”

Agent 64’s tail whipped with frustration, a short, stuttering growl escaping him.

There was danger. There was danger. He was sure of it-- and he didn’t have time for this.

---

The cold, dusty tile of the school hallway did a lousy job breaking April’s fall. A short yelp of shock wrenched itself from her throat as she tumbled over herself, the crackle of mystic energy still prickling at the back of her neck, as she found herself quite suddenly sprawled about the floor as opposed to curled on couch in the comfort of her living room.

“OW! Mayhem! What the hell?!” She hissed, narrowing her eyes to scowl at the yellow creature. His only response was a sharp, strangled squeak, tearing himself from her arms and to the floor.

“April?”

April resisted a groan, sitting up just enough so that she turn her head to glance over at Leo and her other two brothers, who were all giving her a rather startled look.

“Hey, guys,” she said, wincing a bit as she got to her feet, brushing herself off.

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“Beat’s me!” She huffed, placing a hand on her hips. “Mayhem just started freaking out all of a sudden! I dunno what’s going on!”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Raph asked, his brows furrowed with worry as he bent down to look at the little creature, still puffed up and pacing back and forth, chittering frantically at the group. “What’s goin’ on lil’ man?”

“He can’t be acting like this over nothing! There’s gotta be--” April broke off, his lips curving into a frown. Leo and his two brothers? That wasn’t right. “... Hey. Where’s Mikey? Shouldn’t he be with you guys?”

---

They didn’t understand what he was trying to say. The big one reached for him, but Agent 64 dodged out from under his hand, ducking away and breaking into a sprint. He just had to hope they’d be wise enough to follow him-- the only reason he didn’t simply teleport himself away. He couldn’t waste any more precious seconds trying to secure their allyship for the coming fight.

He had to be there. He had to be there now. The air reeked of it.

Danger danger danger danger.

---

His hair beads clicking along to the rhythm, Mikey bobbed his head with the beat banging about in his head, humming softly to himself and tapping his fingers against the side of his thigh. Ugh, this had to be one of Donnie’s EDM songs, didn’t it? He couldn’t remember any of the lyrics or anything-- just the thick, heavy beat. It colored his steps as he wandered down the dimly lit hallway, shouldering open the locker room door and sighing softly to himself. Gosh, he had had this song stuck in his head all day long, but he still couldn’t figure out the name of it or where it was from… It was starting to drive him just a tiny bit insane. Maybe he could get Leo to help him figure it out on the way home-- he was really good at this game.

It was probably one of Donnie’s songs. He had probably picked it up from Donnie. He was sure Donnie would know the answer if he asked-- Donnie always knew the answer to pretty much everything.

But if he asked Donnie, it wouldn’t be a game. Nah. It’d be way more fun to ask Leo. As soon as I get back, he thought to himself, swinging open his locker door.

As predicted, his gym bag was still here, hung up on its hook all neat as if it was meant to be there and hadn’t been left behind. Thank god. If it wasn’t here, then it’d for real be lost and it’d be a whole thing. That’s how you know the Adderall is wearing off, he thought dimly to himself.

His backpack retrieved, he slung the bag over his shoulder, kicking the locker shut and turning to start the trek back to his brothers. His legs weren’t especially long, but he still made every effort to stretch them out with each step, picking up a jaunty pace so as not to keep the rest of them waiting.

The song still played in his head, and Mikey mumbled along to the wordless melody under his breath, fidgeting with the straps of his bag. The longer he thought about it, the more sure he was that it was something from one of Dee’s playlists. It had to be, right?... This was exactly the type of thing he always listened to… Sharp and stormy and loud. Thudding and all-encompassing. The rhythm wasn’t quite as fast as you might expect from the genre-- it sort of drew itself out.

Made you wait for it.

And then eventually, the pace started to pick up.

Each synthesized thump came quicker.

And louder.

Closer together.

Building up, bigger and bigger.

Tickling the back of your neck.

Breathing down your spine.

Thundering onward.

The anticipation would almost swallow you whole.

Until finally the beat dropped.

---

A tiny smile turned the corners of Draxum’s lips crooked.

It was almost amusing-- how careless they were. He wondered how safe they must think themselves to traipse the city openly like this. As if he wouldn’t be perfectly capable of hunting them down. As if he wasn’t patient enough to wait until one of them was alone.

All he would need was a simple capture charm.

From up above in the rafters, he watched the smallest of his experiments. He was still cloaked in their silly human form. Relaxed. Oblivious.

Perfectly easy prey.

After this, he could simply pick the rest of them off.

The second his target walked within range of him, he lashed an arm forward. Magenta light leapt outward from his palm and pounced.

---

He didn’t see the figure in the rafters.

He didn’t hear the pound of footsteps in the distance.

He didn’t even see the flash of light.

But he felt the whisper of magick.

---

Raph didn’t know why Mayhem was freaking out, but he didn’t have to. Because all of a sudden, every single one of his big brother senses and alarms were flipping out. And he felt this awful, gnawing weight of dread in his stomach.

He didn’t bother to wait and check with the rest of his family, to see if they felt the same thing or if they intended to follow. Once Mayhem took off running and that dread took hold-- he did, too.

He could hear other footsteps behind him. Usually, Leo and Donnie were both capable of moving significantly faster than him. But not right now. Raph wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had a head start or just that he knew Mikey was in trouble. But his throat was tight with the very beginnings of panic. All his muscles were lit up with searing red heat. He was moving as fast as he possibly could. Maybe faster than that, even. And no one was overtaking him.

He needed to know where Mikey was right now.

Despite the dead-sprint, it felt like it took ages for him to reach the locker room. He didn’t even stop to open the door so much as he slammed into it, shifting his body just enough to let his shoulder take the impact, the barrier crashing out of the way, crumpling beneath him, just the way he knew it would--

“Mikey!”

His eyes caught sight of Baron Draxum’s crouched form right away-- curled up in the rafters like a fucking jaguar in the canopy. This dark, sickly pink coil of mystic energy reaching from his extended hand and reaching out towards his little brother’s back like a bullet.

Raph’s heart stopped in his chest.

For just a second, the rest of the world froze, too.

The rest of the world… except for Mikey.

His back was still to Draxum.

But his heels were already in a pivot.

His head hadn’t even turned fully yet. But already, his hand flew up behind him, palm stretched out wide and elbows locked. The very beginnings of a fiery golden light sparked to life around him like a halo. His entire body jerked hard and braced--

And he caught Draxum’s magic in his palm.

Without even looking, he stopped the spell dead in its tracks with one raised hand, curling his fingers around it with this sharp, awful hissing sound, sizzling and popping like a forest fire. Like something burning.

He tightened his grip and the magick shattered like glass beneath his fingers.

And then Michelangelo turned around to face Draxum fully, his head tilted back so that he could meet his eyes.

---

“Mikey! Come look!”

Mikey’s head bobbed at his big brother’s frantic cry, immediately heading over in his direction.

“What is it?”

“A baby bird!” Raph exclaimed, kneeling down, and sure enough, when Mikey leaned over he saw the little creature-- tucked up behind a dumper in their alley, their feathers all poofed up and fluffy.

“Whoa!” Mikey gasped, crouching down as well so he could get a better look. The little bird seemed to shiver, but didn’t try to get away-- just stared at them with its big black eyes. It was kind of scraggly and funny looking, with this big round yellow beak and fuzzy feathers. “He looks so funny…”

“We gotta help him!” Raph whimpered, his bottom lip trembling. “He’s all by himself! He musta fallen or gotten lost or somethin’!”

Mikey paused, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“You think?...”

“Well, a cat might get ‘im or somethin’!” Raph cried. “I’ll go get a shoebox, and we can bring him inside! You watch him, okay?”

And Mikey considered this for a moment, glancing from his big brother to the baby bird, his nose wrinkled up slightly.

… If he fell out of his nest, then why didn’t he feel afraid?

Mikey couldn’t quite place it, but it just… didn’t seem like the bird was that upset or scared. If Mikey fell out of his nest and couldn’t fly anywhere and was lost and all alone, he was pretty sure he’d get scared and upset, at least, eventually. But this little guy didn’t feel that way at all. Mikey could just tell.

Maybe a little… frustrated. But determined. Excited, almost.

Mikey could feel it.

“No,” he finally said. “I think he’s okay.”

Raph frowned a bit, looking down at his brother incredulously. “But he’s just a baby!”

“Yeah, but he’s not scared!” Mikey argued, pointing.

Raph tilted his head to the side.

“How do you know?” He argued.

Mikey wrinkled his nose, considering this for a second before he shrugged.

“I ‘unno!” He finally declared. “I just do! You don’t?”

“... No,” Raph said, perhaps pouting a bit. “He’s a bird.”

“Well,” Mikey argued, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think he’s okay! I don’t think we should take him inside. I don’t think he’d like it. I think maybe we’d be, like… stealing him.”

“We can’t just leave him!” Raph protested, and Mikey paused, considering this, his lips curved into a pout.

“... Can we watch him for a little bit first, and see what happens?” He suggested after some thinking. “So then we know no cats will get ‘im or anything.”

Raph sighed. “... Yeah. Okay,” he finally agreed. “But if he’s still there in thirty minutes, then we should bring him inside. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mikey agreed.

---

They were golden-- so very much so that they were nearly white, as if superheated by the sun itself. They were built from nothing, it seemed, save for light and energy itself, but playing a melody of clinks and clatters regardless, filling the air with the sound of metal-on-metal.

The chains that materialized from his baby brother’s body.

They moved almost too fast to see, curling like snakes, twisting and shifting at Mikey’s command. With a forward thrust of his arm, leg sweeping around and his hands clenched into a fist, they obeyed him instantly, echoing his movements and flashing forward-- screaming-- howling towards their target.

Draxum just barely had the time to leap out of the way, flinging himself to the side and correcting his trajectory as he fell, frantically dodging the onslaught, and Mikey chased him. The chains twisted midair to follow the yokai, forcing him to dance and dodge backwards, hardly able to even conjure the occasional counterspell or strike in between running.

Running from Mikey.

It was all happening too fast for Raph to follow properly, but he realized, distantly, that Mikey’s eyes were glowing, light pouring from them and streaking down his face in globs of color. Like he was crying. Like he has tears made of honey.

Draxum lashed out with another spell, trying to find ground, and Mikey’s chains screamed out to meet them, shattering it midair. For just a second, Draxum gaped, his eyes wide as he watched. And in that tiny moment of hesitation, Mikey pounced.

He leapt forward like a beast on prey, his palm outstretched, reaching for Draxum, to touch, to grab--

At the very last second, the yokai yanked himself back.

In an instant, a bubbling black light enveloped him like a shadow and he blinked away-- as though he had never been there in the first place. Mikey stumbled slightly, lurching in the empty space left behind, his body jerking slightly at the sudden halt.

He faltered, wavering for a second, rocking on his feet. He blinked slowly, staring at the space where his opponent had once been as his shoulders slumped. In the silence and the still, ragged pants clattered through his chest. Raph swore he could hear them echo.

He blinked, swallowed, and finally found his tongue again.

“... Mikey?”

---

Raph gasped softly as he watched the little bird they had been watching leap up with a flap and flutter of its wings.

“It’s trying to--”

And it took him a few tries. But after a few false starts, the tiny creature took to the air. And in nearly a moment, it was gone, swooping away from the alley and out of sight.

“Whoa!” Raph gasped, his eyes widening. “Did you see that? That was so cool! He could fly all along!”

Mikey glanced back at his older brother and grinned brightly. “Yeah!!!”

He could tell. He could tell that that bird had been so happy to make it into the air and start to fly.

He could tell Raph was happy, too.

---

The halo that was surrounding their baby brother faded. The tears fizzled and dried up, the glow leaking from his eyes faded away with a flicker. And for a second, Mikey stood in one spot, staring off at nothing, his face flushed and his shoulders heaving with deep, shuddering breaths.

After a second, he coughed-- once, and then twice, hunching over slightly at the force of it. And he spat something shimmering and gold out onto the floor.

And then Raphael watched in horror as his eyes rolled back into his head, his knees going out from beneath him.

[mymoodwriting]

Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Drugs, Anxiety, Panic, Domestic, Introductions, Nightmares, Deja Vu

Words: 2.7K

Chapter Two

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @salfetkablog @youngunknownwitch)

Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“What happens now?”

You were still processing. The secret you had been keeping for years now had finally come to light. You always feared for this day, but now that it’s finally come to pass you weren’t sure what came next.

“Our first priority is identifying the guilty party.” Headmaster Shim stated. “And you will need to assist us with that.”

“I… I don’t know… I never saw any faces…”

“You may not be able to identify faces, but scents are unique.”

“I don’t remember those either…”

“Maybe not consciously, but in your subconscious you know who hurt you.”

“But… but…”

“How exactly are you going to do… whatever this is?” Jisung questioned.

“I have no intention of putting miss y/n in any sort of danger. All that is needed is her sense of smell.”

“And once you identify those assholes? What happens to them?”

“Simple. They’ll be expelled, and it will be noted in their profiles that they were removed from the OCPD training program.”

“I’m sure that’s gonna hurt…”

“It would be quite a stain on their reputation, not to mention the prison time.”

“Prison?” You whispered. “They’ll be arrested?”

“Harming an omega is a serious crime. Perhaps if this was reported initially things would be easier but that’s not the case.” The headmaster took a moment. “Come see me tomorrow after your classes, both of you, and we’ll proceed.”

“Okay…”

Jisung helped you leave the office, keeping you close. Once outside he took you to the nearest bathroom and then you collapsed in his arms.

“… jisung…”

“I got you, it’s okay.” Jisung held you close. “Everything’s okay, the hard part is over.”

“… what did I do…”

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

You and Jisung stayed put for a while until you calmed down. Afterwards you returned to the dorm, and you turned in for the day. You needed rest, especially considering what awaited you the next day. You almost didn’t want to get out of bed but Jisung got you up in the morning. At the end of your last class he was there to meet you. It was obvious you weren’t looking forward to this, but you couldn’t run away. When you got to the office the secretary escorted you elsewhere, to the infirmary. The nurse there gave you something, telling you that it would help relax you. Once the medicine began to kick in you felt dizzy, and Jisung laid you down on the bed. He kept a hold of your hand, assuring you he wasn’t going anywhere.

As the headmaster had told you, even if you didn’t remember much from that day, deep down you knew the truth. A blind fold was placed on you and then different scent marked items were presented to you. They were all the scents of an alpha, but Jisung and the secretary were well aware you had a much worse reaction to a handful of them. You wouldn’t really remember this, so that was for the best. Afterwards you were allowed to stay in the infirmary until you had your senses back. The world was still spinning, but you felt like you had taken some kind of weird nap. You were glad to see Jisung was still with you.

“Jisung… is it over?”

“Yup. You did great.”

For days after that there were whispers around the school over a mass expulsion from the freshmen alpha. Many wondered what had happened, but this wasn’t going to be kept secret. The school had made an announcement on the matter, letting everyone know that the students who were expelled were not fit to be agents, and went against what they were supposed to do. Some still had trouble believing anyone here would ever hurt an omega, but it was something the grounded everyone. With the truth out in the open you did feel this weight off your shoulders, and you felt safer, but there was more to this.

Once you had recovered from the initial ordeal, now it was time for the next step. You had to socialize with an alpha. The set up was simple, like being in a study room, but more private. Of course Jisung joined you, and always would be present for these sessions, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. You had chosen the alpha, but at the end of the day you really didn’t know him much. Now was the time to learn more about him, but you knew it wasn’t going to be an easy process on your end.

“Hello.” Chan entered the room shyly. “It’s nice to see you again. I should properly introduce myself this time. My name is Christopher Bang, but my friends just call me Chan.”

Chan politely held his hand out to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it. He didn’t take offense to it, understanding your situation, so he just took a seat.

“I should also apologize for my actions. I didn’t mean to frighten you that day. I thought I was helping, and I’m sorry I didn’t really pay attention and listen to what you needed.”

“… I understand…”

“Why don’t you introduce yourself too.” Jisung suggested. “I already know both of you, and you two are the ones properly meeting today.”

“Right… I… I’m y/n…”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Chan smiled. “I hope we can get along.”

“… yeah… uh… can… can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“... why… where… uh…”

“It’s okay, I won’t get upset or anything. Ask whatever you want.”

“… just… tell me about yourself…”

“Ah, well I am an orphan like you. I always liked looking after others, so when I was given the option to become an agent I took it. I’m very sorry about what happened to you.”

“…”

“May I ask something?”

“… yes…”

“Why did you choose me for this? I know I might be better than some stranger, but given how we met I wouldn’t think you’d want anything to do with me.”

“… well… despite what happened, I know you were just trying to help… and that was nice… Jisung also trusts you, and I trust him.”

“I see. I’m glad to hear something good came out of our first encounter.

You had daily sessions, slowly getting to know one another at your own pace and comfort. It got to a point where you brought your assignments, being used to his presence now. Of course Jisung and Chan shared a career, so they had much to talk about, leaving you a bit excluded, but you didn’t mind. You got to hear about what they were studying, and it was quite intriguing. At one point you asked Chan why he wanted to pursue music, and he told you about the messages and emotions it could express. That prompted him to bring over his guitar the next time, playing you some songs and teaching you a few chords.

He took it slow with teaching you. It started with sitting across from you, and slowly inching himself forward. When he was able to stand behind you and guide your hands with his own, he knew you were comfortable with him. Of course he wasn’t gonna bring attention to it or mention it, just moving slowly to continue this progress. He was practically hugging you from behind, and he wasn’t picking up any anxiety. You hadn’t noticed, but you knew that you were comfortable with Chan. You enjoyed these little sessions, but you had no idea that there was more to this.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“I want to congratulate you on making good progress.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’ve been doing great. You’re not scared of me anymore, are you?”

“No… not really…”

“I can tell, and that’s great.”

“Thank you…”

“Can I hold your hand?”

Chan placed his hand on the table, offering you a kind smile. You glanced over at Jisung who also gave you a smile. You slowly reached over and took Chan’s hand, feeling his warmth.

“See, you’re doing great.”

“… I am…”

“Since you’re doing so well, it’s time we move on to the next step.”

“What?”

You immediately pulled your hand away from Chan, looking over at Jisung, but he seemed to be just as confused as you.

“Next step?” Jisung questioned. “What’s that?”

“Well, y/n’s gotten used to me in this room, but things need to go beyond here. So we’re gonna be moving into a dorm together.”

“What?”

“That’s not a good idea.” You said. “I… I don’t…”

“I know it sounds scary, but it’s gonna be alright. You’re not nervous around me anymore, so we’re just trying to get you to be comfortable with me in a more natural setting.”

“Do… do I have to?”

“It’s the next step, yes, but Jisung will be moving in with us as well.”

“I am?”

“Of course. You and y/n are a package deal.”

“Ah, see, it’s gonna be okay.” Jisung assured. “It’s more like he’s moving in with us, but obviously we need more space. You’re still gonna have your own room and everything, and you’ll still have me there with you.”

“… okay…”

You didn’t like the idea, but you couldn’t just run away. It was gonna take a few days to pack up and move, but Jisung was right there with you every step of the way. The two of you moved into the new dorm first, amazed by how much more space you had now. It was more like a proper apartment building with its own kitchen and dining table, a living room, two bathrooms, and multiple rooms. Jisung let you pick your room first and then choose a room next to yours. Once you had settled, Chan began to move in. You stayed in your room all day when he came, and honestly tried to avoid him at first.

He didn’t complain about your actions. Instead he also tried to keep to himself as much as he could, not wanting his scent to be all over the place. This was your home first and foremost. You appreciated that, and once you were aware it made it easier to be around the dorm. It almost felt like starting again. Chan would always check in if it was okay to be near you, and slowly you did grow more comfortable that he didn’t have to ask. Once that line had been crossed it was easier to just hang out like friends. You even went back to a similar gathering like before. You’d all do assignments together with the TV playing in the background. Now that you were further into the semester, and had Chan as a friend you realized you could ask him something that had been on your mind.

“Chan…”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Why does the OCPD exist?”

“Oh… uh…” Chan laughed nervously. “Truth is… I don’t know…”

“… you… you don’t? But you’re gonna be an agent? That doesn’t make sense…”

“Well, I don’t know yet.”

“Yet?”

“Yeah. Us agents have learned about the history of the OCPD but we’re aware that something is missing. The real reason why the department was created.”

“Oh…”

“Whatever it is, it must be serious. We gotta prove that we’re capable of being good agents. So that means a lot of tests and studying before we get to know the truth.”

“That explains why they expelled those other alphas.” Jisung commented. “They didn’t know the big secret yet. I wonder what would have happened if they did…”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Chan assured. “I’m gonna be a good agent.”

You were a bit sad that Chan couldn’t answer you, but it made the whole situation all the more intriguing. So only the adults, the actual agents and staff knew why the OCPD existed, and none of them were going to tell you anytime soon. Still, at least now you knew you could ask Chan about this when the time came. Until then you could continue going about your days with that reassurance in the back of your mind. By the end of the first semester you could honestly call Chan your friend, and were glad to have him in your life. After exams the three of you stayed up late for a movie night, although you wound up dozing off and falling asleep.

“Jisung…”

“Hm?”

“Sh.”

“Huh?”

“Y/n’s sleeping.”

“Oh…” Jisung looked over at you on the couch. “We should get her to bed.”

“I’ll do it.”

Chan quietly got up, and carefully picked you up in his arms bridal style. You snuggled against him, feeling warm and fuzzy. He looked down at you for a moment, a gentle smile on his face. It was very different to the look of fear he had seen on your face when you first met. He carefully laid you down in bed and tucked you in, watching you for a moment before quietly making his exit. He returned to the living room with Jisung, plopping down on the couch next to him and grabbing some popcorn.

“How is she?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung questioned.

“You’ve known y/n for years, how is she? Now that I’m around.”

“It took her some getting used to, but she seems to be back to her old self. You’re doing great, and she’s happy, so that’s what matters most.”

“I’m glad to hear.”

The two continued with their movie night. Jisung got up to get a refill of popcorn when he noticed a certain scent in the air. At that moment Chan did as well, a bit confused by it.

“What is that?”

“It’s y/n, she’s having a nightmare.”

Jisung ran over to your room with Chan right behind him, although before he could open the door Chan stopped him.

“Ya! We need to wake her up.”

“Does this happen often?”

“Not often, but it’s not unusual.”

“Do you usually just wake her up?”

“Obviously! Now let go!”

“Wait, let me try something different.”

“Huh?”

“Just trust me.”

Jisung stepped back and let Chan go in first. He followed behind, watching as the other carefully crawled onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay, everything’s okay.”

Chan gently rocked you, trying to calm your whimpers and squirming. After a moment you seemed to calm down, relaxing into his arms.

“Woah… you did it.”

“Alphas should be able to soothe an omega.”

“Well, good job.”

“Yeah, just one problem.”

“What?”

“She won’t let go.”

“Oh… you could-”

“It’s fine. I’ll stay with her and slip away when I have a chance.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I just hope she doesn’t get mad at me tomorrow.”

“I doubt it, you’re a good alpha.” 

“I hope so. You should get some sleep.”

“I know. Good luck then.”

“Good night, Jisung.”

“Night.”

♥♥♥♥♥

You snuggled against your pillow, slowly starting to wake. Although as you regained your senses you realized your pillow wasn’t that soft. You opened your eyes and screamed, moving back and ultimately falling off your bed. Your shouting had woken up Chan, and he groggily sat up on your bed looking around. When his eyes found you he became wide awake. He quickly got off the bed and went to look you over.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

Both of you felt a sense of deja vu over the scene. Except this time around you weren’t afraid of him. Instead of panicking you found yourself giggling, making him smile and relax as well. You grabbed his hands, gently playing with them.

“I’m okay.” You assured Chan. “But what are you doing here?”

“You were having a bad dream… I was just trying to help, did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I did… it was very nice…”

“That’s good to hear. Although I am sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. The idea was to slip away when you let go, but I fell asleep too…”

“Ah, that explains it. Thanks… you’re doing a good job as an alpha.”

“Am I?”

“You’ll be a good agent.”

[bangtaninborderland]

Pairing: OT7 x Reader, || word count: 9.4k || Genre: Smut (18+)

Warning: degradation, smut, dom!everyone sub! YN/JK, fingering, ruined orgasm, oral (m receiving), milking, nipple play, bd(s)m, hair pulling, spanking, overstimulation, orgy, tons of gay stuff.

A/N: So! I wrote this in 4 days it is 9 k and it was so difficult because it is all smut, the first part continues from the last chapter meaning it didn’t start in the morning but the night before. I decided to give Yoonmin AND jikook a special scene. As for YNS back story it starts when you see two asterisks ** it ends after that paragraph. If you are not interested in it then skip it, it doesn’t massively impact the story and I wrote it so you won’t be missing anything. As always please give me your feedback. Love y’all!

p.s CONFESSIONALS ARE STILL OPEN SEND ME YOUR CHARACTER QUESTIONS!

Prev| Masterlist | next

DAY THIRTY-SEVEN

You knew you had a specific prize In mind, whether or not you could and would be granted that reward was something that left you feeling a rather dull sense of uncertainty. However, you chose to ignore this and headed straight to the producers' van as you were sure of your choice.

“YN is everything okay?” Was the first thing Sejin asked, upon seeing you he opened the door, coming down the steps to lean against the stationary vehicle. Normally you’d be more than happy to have a long conversation with him but now wasn’t the time for that, not when butterflies danced around your stomach and threatened to spew from your mouth.

You gave him a curt nod. “I want to talk about the reward..”

“What have you chosen?”

“I want one day with them, 24 hours with no rules or limits. I want to be able to touch them all and vice Versa. Is that possible?”

“I would have to talk to the producers about it, we would be two days short on time for the prompts but if you think that’s sufficient then I don’t see any issue with it. Give me 10 minutes, I’ll check in with them and see what they say.” He smiled at you before one against disappearing into the van. You didn’t try to eavesdrop as you paced back and forth outside, the fear of being told no starting to gnaw at you.

You almost jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder, only relaxing when you see Yoongi there. “Why do you look like a deer in headlights?”

“Because I asked for what I wanted but I’m afraid I’ll be told no.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around him for a hug.

He must have been able to tell you needed the comfort as he rested a hand on your back, his fingers lazily drawing patterns over the fabric of Jungkooks shirt. “What did you ask for love?”

“To have you all for 24 hours with no rules or limits just us all together. I didn’t want to tell anyone in case they said no, I didn’t want to give false hope.”

“What are we going to do with you hm?” He pulled back, hand stroking your cheek. “Always the kindest.”

“It’s hard yoon. I don’t say it much but it’s hard, seeing everyone and not being able to touch them. Whilst we are here the primary focus is the show, I know that’s changed for us but somehow it hasn’t because we still have to complete everything given to us. I’ll never regret coming here because it led me all to you but I wish we had more time to be with each other, I wish we could all go on a date together. A big date. I know that sounds ridiculous but I want you all and I want you all to want each other and to want me. I don’t want anything to change.”

He searched your eyes for a moment before pressing a tender kiss to your cheekbone. “You’ve been keeping a little too much in sweetheart, you’ve got to let it out some time we are all here for you. Most of us couldn’t get through this show if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well, that's probably kind of because I have a vagina and I’m the lady of the house.” You laugh through light tears that had begun to blur your vision.

He shook his head, chuckling lightly. “No, your smile on a difficult day, the way you care for us individually, the way you support us all regardless of what way you do it. We need you just as much as we need Hoseok, or Taehyung, seokjin Hyung, Namjoonie, kook-ah or Jimin.

You smiled a bit. Even in the most stressful situations, any of their presence was such a pacifying one, it silenced the disquieted feelings in you, leaving you with a slight warmth and a resolve that no matter what happens everything will be okay.

“Once it’s nearer the end I think we should all gather and talk again, we could all use it.” You knew that you weren’t the only one with worries, your conversation with Taehyung just a week earlier had lingered in your mind, the real possibility that in the outside world things just wouldn’t work out.

You didn’t have any more time to discuss the matter as Sejin opened the door, both of your heads turning to face him. You couldn’t read his facial expressions so you had nothing to go off as he approached you. “Well, I’ve talked with them.”

“And?”

“You’ve got until midday on Tuesday, it’s Sunday now so that’s a little over 24 hours but the producing team said we had gotten a good amount of footage and it should still be possible to get the prompts done between Tuesday and Sunday as there’s still five days and only three left. “

“Wait really?” You turned to face yoongi who was wearing a smile just as big as yours, they all knew they could touch each other so this may have been selfish as realistically you were the only one benefitting from it yet still the doctor only smiled at you, for you. “I have to go tell them.”

You almost run away before thanking Sejin who just replied with a “yeah yeah.”

You made a note to truly thank him before the show was over, the finish line almost in view. For now, that didn’t matter, for now, you have seven amazing people to spend 24 free hours with.

You nearly tripped over the doorframe as you slipped your shoes off, only steadying yourself before rushing into the living room where everyone had gathered. “We have 24 hours, 24 hours no rules we can touch we can do whatever we can be together just as normal with no worry about being evicted.”

Everyone stood up slowly from their respective seats darted around the room, each and every face holding a look of anticipation and hope that brought a smile to your lips. “So…they said yes?”

“We have a little more than 24 hours, our time finishes at midday on Tuesday.” You explained excitedly, their faces reading back the joy you felt.

“You thought of the most perfect prize petal.” Taehyung laughed, crossing the room to take your hand in his, kissing the back of it gently.

Jungkook shuffled from one foot to another, hands clasping awkwardly at either side. “I want to kiss you so badly.”

“Then why are you waiting?” You asked daringly, raising your eyebrows only to encourage the cam boy.

“Fuck I missed this.” He rasped, hand resting atop your cheek gently as the other hand slid to your neck, gripping it lightly. The kiss embodies everything Jungkook is as a person. His soft and sweet side morphing with the flirtatious and downright sexy side of him. You almost wanted to demand he chose one - sweet or sexy, you weren’t sure you could handle him being both.

Taehyung was next. Nudging Jungkook to the side as he rested a hand atop your hip as the other gripped the back of your neck, trapping your lips against his. You moaned into his mouth as he tugged on your hair, which only caused the others to groan.

“Seokjinnie.” You called out as taehyung stepped away, making grabby hands at the older man who happily divulged you. He crossed the small space between you in two steps, long fingers caressing your face. You had almost forgotten how beautifully the man kissed, every millisecond filled with softness but also a light air of dominance. Lips both barely brushing against yours and being overwhelmingly forceful. “Fuck.” He whispered pulling away, resting his forehead against yours to allow you both time to bathe your breath.

“Where’s hobi?” You asked, looking around until you see him standing behind Namjoon.

“Can I hug you?” You asked, wanting to have the man close, as much as you respected his identity and preference it didn’t cause a faint sadness in your heart that you’d never be able to show him the love you held for him in the way you had once hoped to. As his arms wrapped around you that feeling disappeared into some dark corner of your mind, the warmth of his body against yours and the sound feeling that he was there for you just as much as anyone else even though it may be different was more than enough to make you feel complete.

“Group hug,” Jungkook shouted, plummeting into your both as everyone else joined. Even yoongi, although he will swear later he didn’t.

“Group kiss?” Taehyung asked, only to be responded with giggles and a poke to his side from Hoseok.

“I don’t want to sleep, I can finally touch you all and kiss you all, I don’t want to waste any of that time.” You sighed, everyone slowly letting go of the hug. “I missed this so much.”

Seokjin wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We did too baby but sleeping is important, we sleep early we can wake up early. I’ll get dinner started, yoon do you want to help?”

“Okay, Hyung.” Yoongi nodded giving your arm a final squeeze before walking off with seokjin, if anyone noticed the way their fingers entwined the second they were away from the group no one said anything.

Before you could move Jungkook had already wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close against him as though any distance was too far. You couldn’t say you didn’t feel the need to be close to them all, especially now there were no limits to the way you could touch them, you had never thought the rules would be an issue but then again you never anticipated falling in love with everyone here.

“What are you thinking about?” Namjoon asked from across the room, the book he had been reading for the past few days placed atop the table beside him.

You shook your head leaning back against Jungkook. “Just how much I missed this”

“C'mon Hyung, you know baby is always greedy.” Jimin teased, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“I may be greedy but so are you. I don’t ever hear you complain when I let you fuck me senseless.” You retorted, you could play dangerously too. “Taehyungie, come here.” You reached out a hand to the other. Jungkook didn’t move but relaxed one arm to pull taehyung to you. It felt thrilling to be trapped between the pair, their bodies flush against yours. You couldn’t move even if you tried and you like that far more than you cared to admit, the feeling of being helpless between two of the sexiest men you’ve ever met left you feeling dizzy your legs giving out just a little as Taehyung brought his fingers to your lips.

“Open.” His voice was demanding and left no room for argument so you didn’t, you parted your lips slightly allowing him enough space to slide his finger into your mouth. You closed your lips around the digit, swirling your tongue around the pad of his thumb. “Fuck.” He groaned. “I want to watch you fall apart piece by piece.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook called out, you could feel his cock growing against your ass which only encouraged your own arousal. “You should wait until after dinner.” What? No. That is exactly what you didn’t want. You tried shaking your head but Taehyung slid his thumb out, fingers gripping painfully into your chin. “Be patient.”

You let out a whine in protest, pulling him closer to you only for him to grab your throat. “Ah ah, don’t even try it sweetheart, quiet okay? Behave and I promise I’ll make you feel good later.”

Your mouth went dry. Completely mesmerised by the man, you were sure you were falling in love all over again. “O-okay.”

It had been a while since you felt this floaty, this pliant and willing, for a moment you felt fear before falling slack against jungkook a mist covering your mind and leaving you feeling blissful.

“Did you just?” You heard someone ask, not bothering to find out who it was. Everything felt right, you didn’t want to disturb that.

You heard a voice close to you, jimin maybe. “Subspace?”

“I think so.” You reached forward for taehyung, wanting him next to you only to be pulled away by someone else. “Come here, darling.”

You whined, trying to find your way back to taehyung. “Tae.”

“He’s coming, baby. Tae Tae is coming let’s go sit down hm?” You could recognise the feeling of namjoons hands on your arms, guiding you over to the couch.

“Jungkook go and get some water.” Jimin directed the younger, you buried yourself deeper into namjoons frame, his warmth being inviting.

You weren’t stupid you knew what was happening but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, you felt safe with them, safe enough to let them take care of everything for a little while. “Jinnie.”

“You want Seokjin Hyun?” Namjoon asked, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

You nodded, or at least you think you did. “Yoongi too.”

“Okay okay.” He laughed calling the others in.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked walking over to where you were nestled against Joon. “Is she okay?”

“Tae was having a little fun with her and she seemed to slip.” Jungkook answered, taking a seat at the end of the couch. “She said she wanted both of you.”

“Hoseok can you go and watch the food?” Jin would have asked one of the youngers but he was sure something would burn and Hoseok was the only one who knew how to season the meat right.

The dominant stepped forward, happy to help, he was always happy to help. You didn’t want him to help. You didn’t want anyone to do anything but be around you. “No!” You mumbled, wanting them all around you. “Stay.”

Yoongi was in front of you, hands on your face. Hobi stood behind him, close enough you could touch him. “We all need to eat darling, so do you.”

“I’ll be gone a few minutes and then I will come back and sit with you okay?” Hoseok spoke up, reaching out to grab your hand. “Be good for me, I know you want us all here with you I promise once we all eat we can make a pillow fort across the floor and all sleep downstairs.”

You loved this side of Hoseok, it wasn’t one you found yourself the pleasure of seeing often so whenever it did make an appearance you filed the memory away in your mind for safekeeping. “okay but be quick.” You found yourself pouting, if you weren’t feeling so floaty you may have been hit with a wave of embarrassment but that consciousness was too far out of reach.

“Can you drink some for me sweetheart?” Jin bent down, brushing your hair away from your forehead. You moved forward, allowing yourself to drink from the bottle with ease before sitting back against namjoon. “So good baby.”

You smiled at the praise, head lulling against the philosopher. “Love you.” You whispered, wanting them all to know how you felt, even if it wasn’t a huge deceleration those words held a meaning you wished some day to explain.

Everyone responded, at least you think everyone did. The blanket that clouded your mind had only caused you to feel tired and despite the dinner you knew was being cooked there was no good reason to hold back from sleep, so you didn’t. With Namjoons body against you and the comforting voices of the others around the room, you slipped into dreamland peacefully.

“She’s asleep I think.” Jimin touched namjoons shoulder. “Want me to move so you can lay her down?”

“No it’s okay, I don’t want to disturb her.” Namjoon refused, leaning back to give himself more room.

“That was definitely different, she’s never gone into a submissive headspace like that before. At least not with me.” Hoseok spoke up, leaning against the wall. “Jimin?”

Jimin pursed his lips together, rethinking all the times there had ever been a scene between the two of you before shaking his head. “She’s never been like that before whenever we have gotten into a scene, yes she has her moments of being in a submissive space but never to that extent and never that fast.”

“It’s not like it’s a bad thing.” Tae smiled, head resting on Jungkooks shoulder. “Right?”

“It’s not bad I’ve seen people fall harder and faster but it’s more so the reasoning for it, you weren’t extremely dominant with her and it didn’t become sexual. Sometimes entering a submissive space isn’t caused by pleasure it can be caused by stress, those who have fallen into submissive headspace can often use that place to keep them grounded or even relaxed if they are experiencing stress or going through a stressful situation. I think the emotions that come along with the rules being lifted for 24 hours only have her all the more reason to submit.”

“Let’s let her sleep until dinner, call me if she wakes up.” Seokjin didn’t wait for a response before turning towards the kitchen Yoongi following behind him.

—-

“Baby?” You felt yourself shaking lightly, pulling you from the dream you had just been living in. “You gotta wake up petal dinner is ready.”

“Jin?” You mumbled, reaching for the man. The absence of namjoons body against yours left you feeling cold. “Did I sleep long?”

He wrapped an arm around you, helping you sit up. “No, only about thirty minutes give or take. How are you feeling?”

You took his hand, steadying yourself as you stood. Still sleepy you chose to rest your head against his shoulder earning a light chuckle from you. “M’ okay. Not feeling like that anymore”

“It was an adorable sight to see,” Seokjin replied, a hand rubbing up and down your back. “

You groaned wanting to throw yourself back on the couch to sleep. “Food.”

“Sure sweet girl let’s go get you some food.” It felt good to be like this with him, this natural feeling to your conversation and actions with one another. “Jimin said he wanted to tell you something.”

You nodded towards seokjin, thanking him for waking you before taking a spare seat between Jimin and Namjoon. “Feeling better?” Jimin leaned in, questioning with a smirk.

You pushed him lightly, embarrassment seeping in. “Shut up.”

“Wow someone woke up feisty.” Hoseok laughed, passing you the salad bowl. You lightly snatched it out of his hand, sticking your tongue out. You ignored his teasing as you turned to Jimin.

“Seokjin said you had something to say?” You raised an eyebrow, cutting into the steak on your plate.

“I asked Sejin if we could do the date on Wednesday, it wouldn’t interrupt with your time to be with everyone else. He said it was okay as long as you were fine with it.” He explained, filling your glass with water. “You should enjoy this time.”

Despite your grogginess and the mild irritation seeping through your bones at the teasing happening just across the table, you felt so much love and pride that these were the people you’d found yourself falling in love with. Kind-hearted and considerate.

A shy smile melted across your face, eyes softening at him. “Thank you. Seriously Jimin, that means so much to me.”

“Don’t thank me for that, there are many things you could thank me for but now that. I wish you could have us all the time. How does it really feel?” He asked, his question quite in comparison to the chatter around you.

You held the food close to your mouth, raising an eyebrow at him. “How does what feel?”

“The show, us, everything.” There was a weight to his question you were unsure if you liked.

“The show is fine, there are moments I find myself questioning why we don’t all leave just to be rid of the rules but I think the time we get with one another and of course ending the prize keeps us all here. With us I feel good, happy, I think we all have concerns about the future but apart from that I’m okay.”

He looked over you, as though hoping to deduce whether or not you were being truthful, eventually, he nodded. “I’m always here for you.”

You once again thanked him, looking down at your plate to prevent an onslaught of unwanted tears at his sudden and unexpected affection. You thanked the gods when his attention returned to his food as he began talking to Yoongi.

The meal passed quickly, everyone checking in with you now an again whenever their own conversation ended. You didn’t feel like talking much instead you opted to watch them all, Seokjin was in a heated debate with Hoseok about a game they had both played courtesy of Jungkook, eventually the younger threatening to delete their progress if they didn’t stop. It was endearing how despite being the youngest Jungkook still carried an aura of maturity to him. Namjoon had given his opinion a few times on the conversation between yoongi, taehyung and Jimin. Namjoon had asked Yoongi what it was like to be a gynaecologist and exactly why he had chosen that career, it led to yoongi explaining his entire university experience with Jimin and Taehyung asking questions in between their completely obvious game of footsies.

**The outside world wasn’t perfect, you knew that. You’d had many fights with your parents over the years about your choices at school, choosing to take art with a desire to make beautiful things in the world. Eventually, they had grown to be accepting of your “outward” choices. You found a knack for nudity, the rawness that came from seeing something in its natural element. Once or twice you’d found yourself modelling for art classes, though you’d never tell your parents that. Being an only child wasn’t easy, it was definitely lonely growing up but your parents did whatever they could to keep you entertained, they gave you everything they had and then some. You remember the conversations your mother would have with you about finding someone who brought you the same happiness you felt then, who respected you and loved you as much as they did. It was at that moment, your eyes darting from face to face you realised you’d done just that. You’d found people you could call family. **

The night passed rarely quickly, you’d offered to help clean up only to be told that Jungkook would bare the task tonight after losing a game of rock paper scissors with Hoseok. The game you once found no meaning in had become a staple for resolving issues or making decisions, although you did notice how wrong that could lead things to being. You’d enjoyed watching them all, you had laughed so much at one point after Namjoon had snorted water out of his nose when Taehyung had joked and said his cock was showing through a hole in his pants. All in all the night was perfect.

Hoseok followed through on his promise of you all sleeping in the same room in a makeshift bed, limbs entwined with one another, soft kisses and rough groping and light moans shared between you all. The day had been exhausting with the tasks earlier and then the sudden slip into sub-space. Sleep was well welcomed, and everyone slowly fell into a comforting quietness.

You once again heard sweet whispers of “goodnight.” In your ear just as the curtains of sleep converted you.

The morning started off with a bang, literally. To be more specific it started off with a very tired Namjoon knocking off 4 glasses from the shelf in an attempt to get some water. You’d all jumped up, fright and various stages of panic set across your faces as you all run to check what had happened only to be met with Namjoon shouting “Be careful, there’s glass.”

“What- who? Namjoon?” Seokjin stuttered, eyes flickering from the shards on the floor to the open cupboard. “How.”

“Well, Hyung I tried to reach back for the glass I like but then when I was pulling it out one fell and then I tried to catch the others but that led to me dropping the one I liked and then I tried to catch that one which meant all the others fell. I’m sorry it was an accident.” There was an immaturity to Namjoons clumsiness but it was something you found endearing. He was a gentle giant with no perception of his surroundings. “I’ll clean it up.” He offered shyly, about to move before Yoongi shouted to him.

“Don’t, wait there do not move.” He rushed to the door, grabbed some slippers, throwing them to Namjoon who just about caught them. “Put them on and step over here, mind the glass as much as you can. Hobi get the broom and find something to sweep it into. Everyone else go and sit in the living room, watch the floor for any shards that may have flown across the room.”

It took ten minutes before yoongi had finished cleaning up the mess, you all dispersed, heading off to brush your teeth and freshen up before returning to the living room where yoongi had been waiting waving a hand in disregard at Namjoons countless apologies. “It’s fine it’s all clean now just be careful in case of any stray shards.”

“Thanks for cleaning it Hyung. Jimin passed him a smile before winning at you.”

“There’s only one good way to spend this day.” Taehyung stood, rushing to pull yoongi to the couches.

Jimin leant forward, resting his arms on his legs. “And what’s that pup?”

“An orgy.”

“I’m in.” Jungkook responded with no hesitation, standing up as if almost to volunteer.

“I don’t see why not.” Seokjin added, nudging yoongi who sat back with a smirk across his lips, eyes twisting to something filled with lust.

Namjoon coughed, pressing his palms together. “What do you think YN?”

“I want you all. Maybe that makes me greedy but I don’t want to waste a second of this day.”

“Hobi?” You turned, facing the one who had been quietest throughout the whole discussion.

“Only if jimin goes down on me.” He laughed, a bright smile across his face however you could tell he was serious. “Are you in?”

“Please you couldn’t even last, let’s make it a real bet. I make you cum in 5 minutes and you don’t fuck anyone for a week. I lose and I’ll not fuck anyone but YN for a week.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair.” Hoseok smirked, his eyebrows raising as he seemed to have come up with another idea. “You’ll have ruined orgasms an entire week.”

“Fine whatever, not like I’m going to lose anyway.” Jimin squared his shoulders, almost as if promising he would be the lone survivor of another crazy bet.

Jungkook broke the tension as he threw down a pillow, raising a fist. “May the best cock win.”

“Jungkook no.” Yoongi laughed, the younger boy jumping from his spot only to wrap himself around the other man.

“Or what?” The younger teased, picking up the pillow from the floor. You watched as he swayed his hips at the doctor who only tightened his grip on the couch. “I don’t see you doing anything Hyung.”

“Jungkook.” Yoongis's voice was laced with an unspoken demand, it was always interesting and extremely hot to watch the little moments where they would fight for dominance considering you lived in a house with seven others you didn’t see it half as much as you would have liked to.

“I want Jinnie.” You called out, the older man’s attention on you within an instant, his body colliding with you as his lips devoured you as though he was starved. His hands were firm on your hips keeping you still as you tried to press against him.

“Let’s get these clothes out of the way baby girl, I want to see you.” He mumbled against you, barely waiting for a nod before pulling your shirt over your head, your shorts following Instantly.

He pulled you back towards the couch, pulling down his own pants before taking a seat on it, you climbed on top of him, aligning his cock with your entrance.

You dug your nails into his shoulders as you slid onto his cock, his length filling you up. Your cunt stretched around his bulging cock. “Fuck you’re so perfect.”

You giggled at the compliment. “Says the literal Angel.”

“Darling if you keep complimenting me like that I’m going to “

You began riding him before he could finish his sentence, he pulled you closer, kissing you as you continued riding him. “Fuck you feel so fucking good.” He groaned, his head thrown back allowing you to leave marks up his neck.

You felt a hand in your hand pulling you back, their hand tangled in your hair. You were met with a dark-eyed yoongi. “Keep riding him.”

The command was short but it only encouraged you to grind down, riding your hips in circles as Yoongi kissed you. “Open your mouth.”

You opened your mouth, Seokjin groaning as he watched Yoongi spit into your mouth.

“Come here,” Seokjin grunted, pulling you toward his mouth. You knew what he was doing, both of you kissed tasting yoongi between you.

“Hyung.” You heard taehyung call. You turned to look, watching as taehyung fell to his knees, eagerly taking Yoongis cock down his throat. Yoongis moans and curses only turned you on more, your pussy tightening around seokjins cock.

Jin tapped your leg. “Fuck get up baby. On your hands and knees.”

You moved around, climbing onto the couch on your hands and knees, arching your back as much as possible to allow the man access to you.

You bit your lip as he slid in, his cock on the larger side making you feel stretched. “Let me hear you, baby.” He whispered in your ear, his body flush against your back as he thrusts up into you.

You pushed back against him, a growl spilling from his lips. “Fuck I love you, so perfect sweetheart, so good.”

You moaned at his sudden declaration, his cock pounding into you the lewd sounds of skin slapping echoing off the walls. “Love you my jinnie, oh- oh I’m –“

“You can hold on baby, not yet.” He grunted, pulling your hair back as he straightened up, mercilessly fucking into you as deep as possible. You felt your eyes roll back, feeling drunk from the pleasure, your body slumped the energy you had to hold yourself up drained.

You lay there for a few more seconds, incoherent mumbles and pleas slipping from your mouth hands reaching back to touch him, you felt as he slipped his hand into yours. Leaning forward once more to press kisses to your spine. “I’m going to cum.”

“Don’t…don’t pull out..” you whined, “wanna be full.”

“Whatever you want princess.” He chuckles, his voice low. He thrust a few more times before he fell forward, your orgasms hitting you at the same time. You shuffled around, managing to lay on your back as he rested between your tits. “You’re so beautiful, you did so good baby I’m so proud of you.” He whispered, his hand running up and down your tight as you watched everyone else.

Taehyung had been with Yoongi, the younger grinding down on the doctor's thigh. Lazy kisses are shared between them.

You watched as Hoseok sat on the couch beside you. Turning your attention to him as he called out a soft. “Come here.” .You shuffled over to him, legs still shaky from the orgasm Seokjin gave you. “Turn around. Let me look at you.”

You turned, facing away from him yelling as he landed an unsuspecting slap to your ass cheek, reaching down to rub the spot h before he gripped your wrist, pulling you towards him. “You look so pretty with my marks all over you. The perfect little slut.”

“Ugh- Hoseok.” You groaned out as his fingers came up to play with your nipples, alternating between pulling them and flicking them between his fingers. With a particular painful pinch, he leant closer to you. His lips right by your ear. “What was that darling?”

“Master.” You whispered, your hands squeezing his thighs as his fingers continued to tease your cunt. “Fuck please sir.”

“What’s your colour?” He asked, a moment of concern flashing over his face, only disappearing when you whine a desperate “green.”

“Tell me exactly what you want.” He rasped, his free hand coming to wrap around your throat,

Hoseok stilled your hips, essentially leaving you cock warming him as taehyung grabs your jaw, guiding your lips to his cock. “You’re going to take care of him, you’re going to stay still until he cums down your throat. If you move at all I’m going to tie you up and let everyone use you as their little glory hole for the next - well - however long they want to. After all, you love having cock in you, don’t you? In fact, that may make you a little too happy. Hm?” Hoseoks voice rasped against you, hand still firm on your chin as he suddenly thrusted into you, causing you to emit half a scream.

“Yn is so pretty for us isn’t she baby boy ?” You hear Jimin's voice sweet sounding but laced with a poison that only makes you want more, if you hadn’t known him well and been overly exposed to this side of him you’d think he was just being kind, reassuring, but from the way, Jungkooks eyes were half-lidded, his head lulling to the side as jimin continued draining his cock you could tell it was anything but kind, it was downright dangerous.

You were a little shocked to see Namjoon and Seokjin across the side of the room, seokjin underneath his younger as yoongi ran a hand through his hair, the therapist pulling seokjin to allow his back to rest against his chest whilst Namjoon continued to mark the elder, a trail of beautiful bruises already forming across his skin.

Taehyung tapped your cheek, bringing your attention back to his throbbing cock. “Open baby.”

You opened your mouth, letting your jaw go slack.

Taehyungs cock was massive, you could feel it hit the back of your throat despite the fact that half of his cock was still out of your mouth, despite your eyes watering you relaxed, breathing through your nose as you took the last of him. “Fuck your mouth is so perfect, makes my cock feel so good.” He groaned, a hand reaching to caress your hair.

Hoseok shifted underneath you, his cock massaging your walls causing you to clench around him. Utter pleasure rocked through your body as you jolted on Hoseoks cock as taehyung tucked your throat. “You’re finally being useful, taking cock so well. Maybe I’ll reward you and let you cum.” You did everything you could to restrain your hands, wanting so badly to bring yourself to the edge, the dominants filthy words going straight to your pussy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could still see jimin and Jungkook, jimin had Jungkook pinned underneath him, Jungkooks bigger frame looking so much smaller under the man as he milked his cock. Jungkook fighting underneath him from overstimulation but still taking it all. “You’re such a good boy.” Jimin had whispered, “My perfect baby boy taking whatever I give him. So perfect, think you can cum again for me?”

Jungkook let out a desperate whine, shaking his head no. “Hyun- ah, jimin please, please it’s fuck it’s too much.” He groaned, knuckles white as he clenched his fists.

“Colour baby?” Jimin asked, slowing down his strokes to brush Jungkooks hair from his eyes. “Tell Hyung.”

Jungkook jerked up, hissing as Jimins thumb ran over the slit on his tip. “G-green Hyung.”

“You look so beautiful like this, maybe I should keep you like this all too myself. Take some pretty pictures of you? Maybe I’ll come on your little cam show and remind everyone you belong to me. Make them watch as I tease your pretty cock.” Jimin squeezed around the base of Jungkooks cock, his lips morphing into a sadistic grin. “Maybe I’ll see how sensitive your balls are, I could play with them whilst I leave your cock tied up to a vibrator, if you begged enough I’d even put one inside your ass.”

“Ngh, hyu- hyung- ah- I wanna be a good boy for you.” Jungkook was beautiful, he looked ethereal with tears streaming down his face from the overwhelming pleasure jimin was delivering to him. “Feels s-so good.”

“What do you say, baby?” Jimin teased. Moving to take the youngers nipple into his mouth.

Jungkooks back arched off the couch as jimin bit down on his nipple, his hand reaching to massage the cam boy's balls. “Than- thank you jiminie.” Jimin gave his nipple one last bite before pulling off. Trailing his tongue down Jungkooks torso.

“Such a polite boy. “ jimin murmured. “I want to cum inside of you.”

“Wa-want your cock. I’ll be good pl-please I want-“ Jungkook whined. “ please.”

Jimin had met a lot of submissives, Jimin had fucked a lot of submissives but there was something about Jungkook, something about the way he whined, the way he tried so hard to keep his hands to himself, how hard he tried to do exactly what was asked of him. He was perfect. “Fuck. You’re a fucking sight to see.”

“Turn around baby boy let me prep you.” Jimin helped Jungkook move, his legs unsteady from the continuous teasing not to mention the two orgasms Jimin had already ripped from him. “Such a beautiful ass, wanna see you dressed up for me darling.” Jimin massaged Jungkooks thighs, hand edging closer to his entrance.

Jimin stepped away, earning a protesting groan from Jungkook. “Just getting lube baby. Be patient.”

Jungkooks protest silenced, looking around the room at the other house members. Each of them entwined in some way, their own pleasure being chased through various means. He looked over to you, giving you a shy smile followed by a flirty wink, his body pushing back when he felt jimin behind him once again.

You couldn’t respond to Jungkook,, taehyung still fucking your throat. Hiis thrusts becoming sloppy. “Gonna-gonna cum.” Taehyung grunted. Hand-fisting your hair becoming painful but enjoyably so.

“Did I give you permission?” You whimpered at the question, despite it being directed towards Taehyung, the man tending as to prevent himself cunning as he shook his head no. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll let you.”

“P-please can I cum.” He mumbled, hand still lazily caressing your hair even though he was struggling to hold back, if you weren’t dripping with arousal you may have found the action cute.

“P-please can I cum.” Hoseok mocked, laughing. “Pathetic boy. Show me how well you can cum. Show YN just how much you enjoyed using her throat.”

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice, with no more than five thrusts he was on the brink of cumming, just before you could prepare to swallow you were being pulled back. Taehyung almost cried at the ruined orgasm. “B-but.”

“Ah, no buts baby. You got to cum, didn’t you? Wasn’t that nice of me?” The dominant teased, smirking. Taehyung couldn’t say no, he couldn’t deny that he got to cum. “Would you prefer next time I keep you on edge?”

Taehyungs eyes went wide, head shaking in a panic. “No Sir, thank you.”

“Good boy, you did so well.” Hoseok smiled at him, hand running through his hair as Tae sat down beside him on the couch. “Now to take care of you, darling. Do you want me to fuck you or are you at your limit?”

“I’m okay just, no more teasing please.” You whined, grinding down on his cock.

He laughed. “Too needy. I spoil you too much.”

“You don’t spoil me enough Sir.” You teased, rocking your hips. “Please fuck me?”

“Whatever you want brat.” Hoseok hooked his arms around yours, keeping you stable as he began to slide his weeping cock in and out of your cunt.

You let yourself be dragged around like a rag doll. His grip was definitely tight enough to bruise but you didn’t care as you pushed back onto him every time he thrusted, his cock ramming against your happy again and again making your legs fail underneath you. Hoseok supported the entering of your weight as you both came to a climax. “Gonna cum.” You mumbled, the words barely coherent, an orgasm brimming for the second time. “Please.”

“Cum over my cock.” he gave one final thrust against your gspot. His fingers massaged your clit, you weren’t a screamer, nor were you a squirter but you became one as his teeth sank into your shoulder. His cock pulsing inside of your pussy as he cum. “That’s it, just like that.” He grunted, your orgasms both coming to an end as he slowly pulled out of you. A hand under your chest stops you from falling face-first onto the floor as your legs have out. “Can you stand for me, baby?”

You shook your head no. “Not after you and seokjin fucking me.”

“Ah yes, the two biggest cocks.” He laughed, guiding you to sit on the couch. “Taehyungie could you go and get a wet cloth for YN?”

You’d almost forgotten his presence, turning to look at the man, his face utterly relaxed. “Okay.”

“You did so good today darling you were so patient, I’ll miss our scenes together.” He frowned a little, making you smile.

“Only a few more weeks, besides I’m sure jimin will let you watch whenever he and I have one.” You knew what the comment would do to him, seeing his scowl you held your hands up half-heartedly in defence. “Kidding.”

“What am I going to do with you?” He half-panted, taking the wet cloth from taehyung and bringing it to clean you up.

“There’s definitely cum on the couch.” You heard yoongi mumbling, he was sprawled out on the floor, seokjin beside him. Your face flushed at the sight of them noticing your eyes lingering on them. Between all eight of you, there wasn’t a single piece of clothing in sight. Jimin and Jungkook sat across from you, Jungkook cradled in Jimins arms, both of them seemingly somewhere else.

Taehyung was right, an orgy was a great way to spend the day.

—————

“I wanted to talk to you all about something.” Jungkook mumbled, his eyes focused on the window as though he was too afraid to meet anyone’s gaze. The attention shifted to him instantly. “I was thinking about it actually.”

Everyone had gone to shower, you had the pleasure of sharing yours with Seokjin and Taehyung. Both men insisting on taking care of you, definitely a form of repayment for the way they temporarily affected your ability to walk. The rest of the day had been spent playing board games, light kisses being shared between everyone, the touching non-stop. The atmosphere was calm so Jungkooks urgent demeanour had you worried.

“What’s wrong baby?” Jimins voice was tired, clearly, the sex knocking out any residual energy he had. “Talk to us.”

“What if we live together after here? We worked well being here together I have some savings we could pitch in and get a place together somewhere equal to where you all work. I was thinking about moving to Seoul permanently, I couldn’t be without you all. I know it would take a lot of time and wouldn’t be an easy decision I don’t know maybe this is a ridiculously childish idea, tae is here, Namjoonie Hyung is here, hobi Hyung is here, YN is here, yoongi Hyung could move we could all help him, jimin Hyung could move too it would be perfect.”

“Kook that’s… big.” Yoongi breathed, arm tightening around jimin. “I think we would all really need to talk about it. Jimin what would you think about moving?”

Jimin shrugged, hand grazing through the maknaes hair. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it I’d have to find work here but I wouldn’t be opposed. My life in Busan seems small compared to what we all have here.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look at jobs around here, Hyung do you have any contacts here in Seoul?” Yoongi shifted to face Seokjin who was sitting with a grim across his red raw lips.

“I do, a few actually. I could pass you their contact information.”

“Hobi what do you think?” You sat up, looking at the man who had been quiet throughout the whole exchange.

“Well you all know I’m aro so I don’t see-“

His words are cut off by taehyung placing a hand across his mouth abruptly, slightly shocking the man. “If you say something like “I don’t see why you’d want me there” I will make sure no one has sex with you for the rest of the time here. You are just as much a part of us as Namjoon Hyung or Yoongi Hyung. Whether it’s romantic or not you have just as much of an invitation as everyone else here does. This is your choice too.”

“Oh.” The dominant breathed, a rand running over his face as though to refresh himself, he sat for a few minutes eyes filtering from one body to the next before he smiled, nodding. “I wouldn’t mind it, besides having roommates would be kind of fun.”

“YN?” Taehyung called tentatively, reaching to wrap your hand in his. “What do you think pretty?”

You blushed at the unfamiliar pet name, your cheeks a light hue of red. “I want you all, maybe I’m spoiled but if we could all be together in one house like this for as long as we stay together I’d love that. It would be just like this without the cameras.”

“So what does this mean? Are we officially in a relationship and planning to move in?”

You show a look to Hoseok who seemed to frown slightly at the mention of being in a relationship. “How about we don’t call it that.”

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows pinched.

You shook your head laughing. “Let’s not call it a relationship, we all have our own dynamics with each other but we are all entwined like some old tree with a thousand branches. I think we would need a week of planning to officially label everything between each and every one of us so why don’t we call it something else? Something inclusive.”

“I think that sounds better, we aren’t just a relationship, we also have Hoseok-ah to consider.” Seokjin spoke up, his words were always filled with care for those around him whilst simultaneously being filled with knowledge and understanding.

“What about affinity? We could say we are in an affinity.” Yoongi supplied, some smiles being traded across the room.

“Why affinity?” Jungkook questioned, head resting against Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin kisses his hair. His hand linking their fingers as he began to explain. “Affinity has a beautiful definition, it is a word used to say you have a deep understanding of someone, a similarity and a kinship to them. It’s basically the description of a bond without labelling it as such.”

“I like that.” He breathed, eyes closing before opening them again as though he has remembered something important. “You’re all mine though.”

“Even you my hobi Hyung.” He giggled, reaching a foot out to touch the other's leg.

“Move your weird toes from me right now.” He shouted, arms waving as Jungkook sunk down further, toes reaching across as far as he could.

“What’s the matter Hyung it’s just feet. I pegged you as a foot kink man.” Jimin giggled, everyone, pausing at the honorific before turning back to a mildly disturbed Hoseok.

“Shut up jimin, Jungkook move if you want to keep your toes.”

“Jin Hyung where is your knife.” He shouted, tramping towards the kitchen before yoongi could grab his waist, pulling him onto the pile of pillows beside him. “Calm down there sunshine let’s not decapitate anyone’s toes today.”

Hoseok shot him a glare as if to say he would be next if he didn’t stop talking. Yoongi laughed, muffling it with a cough. “Well then, affinity it is.”

“I love you all so much.” You brushed away the tears dampening your cheek, happiness overwhelming you. A few “I love yous.” Resounded back followed by a few kisses shared between different bodies. Hoseok looking content but also out of place. You shuffled closer to him as he removed himself from between Seokjin and Yoongi. You reached out your hand, just enough for him to wrap his little finger around yours and with that you spoke a silent promise.

You’d do whatever you could to keep them all happy.

You were more than content watching them break off into their own smaller conversations as you all set up for the night in the makeshift bed. Thankful for jimins suggestion to recreate the bed from the night before. You didn’t know how long you’d watched them for but your eyes became droopy, their voices guiding you into a blissful sleep.

Jimin and Jungkook watched you drift off, arms and legs a tangled heap. “How was it today baby?” Jimin turned to Jungkook, his fingers drawing patterns on the cam Boys thigh.

The younger sat, contemplating the entirety “Good, was a lot but good.”

“That makes me happy to hear, you were really serious about wanting us all weren’t you bun?” Jimin smiled, his eyes bright.

Jungkook blushed, nodding. “I just really love you all. I still want to get to know everyone. Even you Hyung.”

“What if you tell me something about you and I’ll tell you something about me? We can start learning right now.” Jimin offered, earning a pleased look from Jungkook.

“I really like toe socks,” Jungkook responded wholeheartedly, as though it was his biggest secret. Jimin couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, lightly pushing the younger.

“THAT’S your thing? I might just have to call it all off now, that’s definitely a deal breaker.” Jimin loved to tease, especially when it made the man he had begun to love smile like that. “They are actually good for you. I would say my thing is” he paused, wanting to give something equal to Jungkooks revelation. “If I ever have a bad day, I always drink hot chocolate.”

“If you ever seem sad I’ll make you one, I make good hot chocolates.” Jungkook smiled storing the fact away for when it was most necessary. “One more?” He raised an eyebrow, only continuing to talk once jimin has nodded. “I love being a cam boy but I also want to do more, something mentally.” Jungkook confessed. Jimin could understand that.

“I love being a porn star but I want to find what else there is in the world, I want to grow.” He had the same feeling, wanting to do something that didn’t require his body, not that he didn’t enjoy his work and held no embarrassment over it, in fact, he was fiercely proud but he always wanted to find what else in the world would be good for him.

“Maybe we can find things together?” Jungkook mumbled, hand reaching up to play with Jimins hair.

“I’d like that.” Jimin smiled, leaning down to break the space between them to give the younger a kiss, relishing in the small whimper Jungkook let out when he bit down on his lip. “Let’s get sleep baby boy.”

“Goodnight Hyung.”

“Goodnight jungkookie.”

——

Yoongi hated being woke up, Yoongi hated being waken up at 3 am, Yoongi hated being waken up by 3 am by a half-naked Jimin, although that may have been more so because of the fact he was far too tired to fully appreciate the youngers body.

“What jimin,” Yoongi grumbled, burying his head into another pillow.

He could have used that said pillow to hit the other when he grabbed his arm pulling him away from the comforts of the makeshift floor bed. “I need to talk to you Hyung.”

“Can't it wait until the morning?” Yoongi sighed, still following the dominant hand in hand.

“Nope.” Jimin popped his lips, the sound definitely would have gone straight to yoongis dick if he wasn’t half asleep.

Once they were both safely inside Yoongi's bedroom jimin pulled him to sit on the bed. “Are you really thinking about moving?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t see why not, I love Daegu but I love being with you all too.”

“Hyung,” Jimin called out, his hand reaching to touch Yoongis fingers before retreating. “You’re more reserved, not reserved but you, you show your love differently and it’s, I guess sometimes I feel lonely in that.”

“You aren’t lonely jimin-ah we are all here for you. If there’s something you need to talk about we will all listen.” Yoongi reassured him, his own hand edging closer to the other. “Talk to Hyung.”

Jimin stirred for a moment, he liked that. Weirdly, he liked how that felt. “I wouldn’t have much in Seoul. All my clients are around Busan. What if this doesn’t work outside of here and I take that step and it falls apart?”

Yoongi sat for a moment, breath heavy. “We can’t tell the future but sometimes things have to start with a simple step. You don’t lose things by loving you lose things by not taking risks. Getting into the prom industry definitely wasn’t easy right?” Yoongi paused giving Jimin a chance to respond, which he did with a nod. “That’s my point, you took a chance and it worked out well for you. If you find there’s something you want to do more then you should go for that too. We don’t ever grow by limiting ourselves to one thing forever, taking risks is a part of life, it’s a part of humans. We will fail and succeed but every attempt is worth it.”

Jimin didn’t realise just how much he needed to hear that, just how much the words would hit him where he was most needing it but it did, the porn industry allowed you to meet tons of people, people you would get intimate with and people you wouldn’t but very rarely was there any personal connection. He hadn’t realised how lonely he become until he was surrounded by people who cared for him, knew him, wanted him. Not just for a scene or a chance at getting known in the community but wanted him for him.

Before Yoongi could process the situation Jimin was lunging forward, pulling him into a hug. A small sob spilt from his lips as he whispered “Thank you Hyung.”

Yoongi had never heard Jimin cry, he had never had to hug him like this. He pulled the younger away, wiping his tears from his soft cheeks. Yoongi didn’t know jimin deeply but he loved him, he loved him the way he loved seokjin or the way he loved YN. Yoongi loved jimin enough to bring his hand to cup his face, pulling him closer to him. Jimin whined lightly as yoongi kissed him with all the energy he could muster. “Let Hyung take care of you.”

“Okay. Hyung can take care of me.” Jimin rasped, falling back into the bed, his elder there to catch him. Yoongi would always be there to catch Jimin, to catch all of them.

This was his family.

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART ONE : CHAPTER SIX

pairing: jake sully x human!fem!reader

summary: in which you and jake sneak off for a night ride

warnings: none!

word count: 2.4k

author's note: jake and reader are just cuties hehe

AO3 | prev | next

“Jake Sully, where are you taking me?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time as you followed him through the forest.

The man was practically jumping around excitedly, glancing back at you every now and then to check if you’re following with a large white grin.

“Hey I know you’re a little out of your prime but at least try to keep up, Doc!” He teased, a laugh then falling from his lips.

“Shut up.”

Really, you had never seen him this happy before. In the three months you had known him, sure he’s given a few smirks and dumb jokes every now and then, but hearing him laugh and smile unashamedly, that was something new. Something that could be dangerously addicting if you allowed yourself to let your guard down too easily.

But the thing was, in a way, your guard has always been down around Jake Sully. You just hadn’t realized just how vulnerable you were around him until a smile tugged at your lips just at the simple sound of his laugh.

After a few more minutes spent running around the forest, you finally made it to a clearing of sorts where an ikran was waiting for the both of you.

You were cautious to approach but Jake confidently strode over toward it. Jake chuckled when glancing back at you, “He won’t bite, Doc. Promise.”

“When did you tame your own ikran?” You asked, slightly in awe at just how far he had progressed with his training with Neytiri.

Jake hoisted himself onto his ikran and smirked down at you, “You really don’t listen when I talk, huh, Doc? I literally told you and Grace about this like a week ago.” He then stretched his hand out to you. “Come on.”

“Wait, what?” You glanced from him toward his ikran worriedly. “Um, are you sure about this?”

He tilted his head, “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re scared of.” You stared at his hand for a few seconds, your own fingers tingling with want. “Trust me?”

“Still debating.” You hummed but reluctantly your hands weaved with his. His muscles flexed when he pulled you up until you were sitting behind him. His hand was still around yours as he stretched your arm around his waist until you were holding onto him. Even from behind him you could tell he was smirking, “You’re enjoying this too much, asshat.”

Jake leaned back into you and murmured, “Just hold on tight.”

Right after he said that, his ikran’s wings expanded, and then it took off. You let out a yelp from how fast it took off, your screams mixed with Jake’s joyful laugh. It would’ve been like music to your ears if not for the fact that you were flying on an unstable animal.

You briefly did research about ikrans in the past though you never read much further about them. All you knew about them was that they chose you first and once they did, that is when you bond with it. But it’s known to be quite the dangerous task which is why you were surprised yet impressed with Jake’s obvious success in being able to get one for himself.

After finally getting over your initial shock from the takeoff, you were able to take in the view before you. You always knew Pandora was beautiful but seeing it from the sky, flying as you would in your dreams. But dreams didn’t feel like this. Dreams didn’t make you feel so alive, so free. Dreams didn’t have the wind blowing in your face, intaking the air around you and letting it flow into your lungs.

Your head was thrown back from the euphoria of it, eyes fluttering closed as you breathed in and out. One of Jake’s hands grasped both your arms and kept them around his waist when you leaned back further. Seconds go by and your stunned screams turn into giggles and a big smile.

This was the most free you’ve ever felt in a while.

Jake patted your leg, gaining your attention, “Look, you nearly missed it.”

Further ahead, he pointed toward a tall waterfall with mist surrounding it. The trees surrounding it were so green and so vividly beautiful, you swore all of this wasn’t real. It was all too good to be true.

Jake leaned into you before saying, “You might wanna hold on a bit tighter, Doc. Things are about to get wet.”

“What—AAAAAAH!”

The ikran took a sudden dive, making your stomach drop just as well.

“YEAH!” Jake hollered as they flew toward the waterfall.

“JAKE I SWEAR I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” You shout, squeezing your eyes shut when you get close toward the water.

You buried your face into his back when the water sprayed on you. By the time you opened your eyes, you were all wet and now flying away from the waterfall. You smacked Jake’s back as he grinned.

“A little warning next time!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He grasped your hands again tightly around his waist but didn’t move his hand away. Instead he gently  squeezed both your hands tightly with his larger one.

“Skxawng.” You muttered but hid a smile in his shoulder.

Night had fallen by the time Jake landed his ikran on a cliff that overlooked most of the forest. Even at night the planet was beautiful. It was vastly different viewing it here instead of through a window in your lab. Here you could stare up at the stars and look at the moons. Here it was magic.

The two of you sat on the ground next to each other, legs dangling at the edge of the cliff.

“I’m not ready to go back.” Jake spoke first, gently next to you. As if what he said was something forbidden. Something wrong. “I know this is temporary but…this is…I don’t know how I could ever return after all of this.”

“I felt that way too. Back when Grace’s school was still open.” You admitted. Really it was the first time you had ever said this out loud. Before you were always afraid it sounded pathetic, stupid, and reckless. But now, it just felt nice to get it off your chest. “This place has been more of a home to me than Earth ever was. I’m not sure I could imagine going back either, even if we’ll never truly be one of them.”

“You don’t think we can be?” Jake turned to you with a frown and you were surprised at how desperate he looked. “I mean I-I’m working to become one of them, right? That means something, doesn’t it?”

Perhaps you were too used to his human form where his face always seemed a bit guarded and stoic, hiding away his true emotions and vulnerability. But this Jake was different. He was open. He was happier. He was a different person entirely. You wondered if this was the change Grace had seen. This version Jake peeking out in his human form. You wondered if this was the person Grace believed in. You saw it now.

And admittingly it was a slow journey to get there.

“I wish I could say it does.” You respond truthfully as you turn fully toward him.  “But because of the Sky People, because of what they did those years ago, because of what they’re doing now, we’ll always be outsiders to them.”

“But you love these people.” Jake grasped your arms gently. “You said so yourself, this is your home. Not on Earth. Not with Quaritch. Here. Why not fight for that?”

You stared into his yellow eyes as you paused. And before you knew it, the words stumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“What else did Quaritch tell you to do?”

Jake closed his mouth and turned his gaze toward the view. You grasped his face in your hands and forced him to look at you, “Just be honest with me, Jake. I won’t be mad, I promise. I just want to understand what he wants. What he really asked you to do.”

“I-I can’t.” He shook his head, dropping his gaze to his hands.

“Why not?”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

You dropped your hands to his and gave them a gentle squeeze. The two of you were quiet for a long moment. Pandora breathing around you.

Then you whisper to him and only him.

“Grace put everything into that school. Ten years. The children, they called—call her sa’nok.” You glance up at him, “Pop quiz, what does that mean?”

Jake chuckled in disbelief at your timing, “Mother. It means mother.”

You nod, your foreheads now touching. “And when I came along and worked as her assistant, they called me—”

“Tsmuke.” Jake gave a small grin at the surprised look on your face. “Sister. I heard Tsu’tey and Neytiri refer to you that way a few times.”

Quietly, you nodded again. “Sylwanin was my friend. Tsu’tey was like an older brother to me…When they shot up that school…when Sylwanin died…that’s a great pain that no mother should feel. No sister should ever feel that.” A tear slipped before you were able to wipe it away. Jake was quicker though and caught it with his thumb. “That’s why I can’t ever feel like I belong with them, be one of them. Not after everything the Sky People did. I’d feel like a fraud, a liar.”

The entire time you talked, Jake’s gaze never wavered from yours, his hand that wiped away the tear before was still resting against your cheek.

“I understand. I do.” Jake assured you, pulling you closer until your foreheads were touching once more. “I’m sorry.”

You gripped his wrist and closed your eyes, breathing in his scent. His hand slid toward the back of your neck, squeezing it gently. He was guiding your head and you let him. The tips of your noses brushed against each other.

But before you could brace yourself for the breaths to then turn into something more, something different, you were pulled out.

It almost felt like waking up from a long slumber when you peeled your eyes open to find Norm standing over you.

“Jesus.” You muttered, squinting your eyes when the straps were removed from your body. “Damn it, I forgot about the groggy after effects.”

“Sucks doesn’t it?” Norm grinned down at you as you slowly sat up. After flipping him off, he handed you a warm bowl of what looked like soup. “Grace says it helps to eat when coming out of the link.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sighed before taking the bowl into your lap. Norm then moved on to the other link beds and your groggy mind began to catch up with what had happened.

Fuck, you nearly kissed him.

What happened to not getting too attached, especially when you didn’t know where he stood? There was a glimmer of hope that perhaps that Grace was right, that he was on your side, but there was still the unknown.

Why did Quaritch want him to become one of them? Why did he want him learning their culture? What was his game? How did he win in this?

You didn’t get to think too much more on it when Grace, who seemed to have been out of the link beds longer than you had, spoke. “I can’t believe you’ve made it this far, Sully. I want to say I’m proud—really I do—but how far are you actually willing to go here?”

Jake’s voice hit you before you saw him, “It’s the last part to finally becoming one of them. I’m close, Grace. I’m willing to go as far as I can.”

When you got up from the link bed, you sauntered over toward the table Norm was already sitting at and listening to both Grace and Jake. You kept your gaze down at your bowl, not really ready to meet his gaze after their moment.

“You know you’ll never be one of them, Jake.” Grace sighed, leaning against his now closed link bed. “The Avatar Program was meant for you to link up with these bodies, yes but it was always meant to be temporary.”

“I tried telling him that.” You mumbled out, placing your bowl on the table.

“I have to try.” Jake pressed. “I have to finish this.”

The room was quiet after that. You still couldn’t meet his gaze or even look at him without feeling like your face would catch on fire. But this conversation was a nice distraction, made you forget momentarily for a bit.

“Why are you pushing so hard for this?” Grace then asked. You knew she knew the answer, which is why she asked it. But you wondered if he would tell her. Grace did have a way with people.

“You know why I’m here.” That’s when you finally looked at him. His own gaze flickered from Grace to yours for a few seconds before he continued, “You know Quaritch sent me.”

Norm choked on his soup, his jaw dropping. “Wait, what?!”

Grace held a hand up to him and Jake hesitantly continued, “He wanted me to infiltrate the Omatikaya people. Become one of them and find out how to screw them out of their home.”

“What?” Now it was your turn to be startled, your heart dropping to your stomach. “That’s—he…you—”

“Oh my god.” Norm muttered, massaging his face.

You should've known that was his angle. You should’ve seen it from the start. Of course Quaritch would send him here to try and get them to leave their home, to leave Hometree. This was Quaritch’s way of being diplomatic before starting a war with them just to get what he and the RDA wanted.

“And what about now, Jake?” Grace asked patiently.

“I’m not that guy anymore.” He was looking at you when he said this. “I’m not, I swear it.”

Quietly, you looked to Grace. She was already looking at you, meaningfully. 

He’s changed. He’s changed. He’s changed.

You looked at him and nodded, “I know that now.”

Norm was at a loss, Grace was thoughtful, Jake was regretful, and you were planning.

It was time to set things in motion. It was time for you to stop hesitating and be brave for once. It was time for Quaritch to know that you were never bluffing.

It was time to launch Project Pandora.

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @dazedshoon @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @ssc7514 @cheari@tojigirl @nyotamalfoy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @erenjaegerwifee@naityelen @dumb-fawkin-bitch @raggedyoldwitch @dorck26 @nhemmingsf @biooiuygjjgfsrb @thatsenoughformelol

[wheneverfeasible]

Bloody Hands, Broken Hearts: a Mafia AU

Chapter 2

chapter wc: 5.9k || rating: M (for now) || tags: sex trafficking, past rape/non-con, mean dom!Eddie, feminized!Steve, see ao3 for full tag list || ao3

<<prev

~

Once, when he was drunk and stupid, Steve had dressed up in his mother’s clothing. It had been a dare, of course, a bet sparked by boredom and too many shotgunned beers by the poolside. The others had already gone for the night, or were passed out downstairs somewhere, and it was just him and his two best friends, Carol and Tommy.

It had been a joke, and Carol and Tommy had laughed, and after putting on lipstick of his mother’s, Steve pouted at them just like that blonde actress his dad really liked, though he sometimes ranted about the indecency and depravity in her films. Steve wondered briefly how his father would feel seeing his son being the one crossdressing now.

Though he’d wobbled in them, Steve chased Carol and Tommy around his parents’ room in a pair of his mother’s more sensible heels, their combined laughter like a melody. His mother’s red dress confined his movements a little, but eventually he caught them and, first one and then the other, he left a dramatic lipstick mark on their cheeks where he kissed them.

It was nice. Back then.

Tommy had mocked him, but his eyes had lingered a little longer on Steve, and even Carol’s gaze held something like appreciation in them. When Steve looked at himself in the mirror, there wasn’t any sense of wrongness to it at all. He wasn’t a woman, that much was clear, but he didn’t mind the way he looked wearing his mother’s things, even if he had put it all on a little cartoonishly.

Staring at himself in the mirror now, Steve missed those simpler times. He missed how he and Tommy and Carol had been inseparable for a time, how Carol always had a juice box or banana or something waiting for him after practice when he needed the post-workout pick-me-up, or how Tommy always had his window unlocked when Steve needed an escape after family dinner.

How Tommy always had arnica cream waiting in case Steve came over with new bruises, or how Carol helped teach him makeup techniques to cover what wouldn’t fade easily.

When Carol and Tommy first got together back in seventh grade, it shifted dynamics a little, but their little trio had remained strong. Steve had thought then they would remain as they always had been, a united front. Instead, when Steve trusted them with his secret, everything imploded.

“Are you going to be okay, Vee?”

Steve glanced at the reflection of the woman standing behind him in the mirror, feeling her comfort a balm to soothe old aches he didn’t know he still had the capacity to hold. After everything else that had been done to him, the betrayal of childhood best friends still shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

“I’m fine, Tiffy,” he murmured, making himself smile to reassure her as he turned away from the mirror to take her hands in his. “This isn’t anything new,” he said with a wry chuckle.

“At least Daddy Kas isn’t fat like Cerdo was,” Selena snorted from where she reposed on her bunk, head propped up on her hand as she lay stretched out on her side. “I don’t know how you survived being his favorite when it always felt like I was going to be squished to death under him!” She shuddered slightly. “And hopefully Kas doesn’t make me call him ‘Papi’ like that pendejo did. Ugh, even I felt racist saying it.”

Rolling his eyes as the others laughed, Steve couldn’t keep his lips from quirking ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. He had told the girls everything—or almost everything—that had occurred during his time with Munson, much to Selena’s amusement, who had for some time called Porzio “Piggy” or some variation behind his back because of his unfortunate weight and tendency to make a sound that was almost a squeal when he came.

He hadn’t told them that he knew Munson from his past, however, that they had gone to high school together even, but everything else had been fair game. Besides one other thing…

They didn’t know that, if Steve failed to please Munson that night, this might very well be the last time they saw each other.

“It helped that Porzio was a lazy bastard and liked to make me do all the work,” he said with a sly grin, bringing Tiffany’s hands up to his lips to give them a small kiss before releasing her. He turned back to the mirror briefly to touch up his hair, fiddling with the small clips that pulled it back and curved to the side.

“No wonder your thighs always look fit to burst from your tights,” Zuri mumbled loud enough for them all to hear.

Steve mocked-gasped, picking up one of the clips he hadn’t used to toss at her. “Never had any complaints yet. Don’t act like you’re not jealous.”

Zuri dodged the small clip Steve threw at her and stuck her tongue out at him, though she cast a small smile to Mona when the other woman picked up the clip to clasp to one of Zuri’s space buns that she had her tight coils styled into still. Mona returned the smile with one of her own, her fingers lingering slightly before dropping to her side.

“I bet Daddy Kas won’t complain tonight either,” Selena added with a scrunched nose in tease, causing Isabel in the bunk below her to swat at her other hand dangling over the edge. “He looked like he wanted to gobble you up when he made you suck off his thumb!”

“Vee’s always been very good with his mouth,” Fen said with a throaty laugh and a suggestive wiggle to her brows, splayed across Janice’s lap who was braiding her fine black hair. “There’s a reason he’s the favorite.”

Steve felt his face flush with embarrassment, though it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. Fen had a filthy mouth, though she always played at being sweet and innocent among their wardens.

About a month after Steve had been bought by Porzio, when Steve had been ordered for the first time to fuck her while Porzio and his associates watched, she had just shrugged and informed him that she hadn’t even been a backdoor virgin when she was first brought into this life, so he needn’t worry about hurting her as it wasn’t her first time. He had blushed even more back then, especially since she was even younger than he was.

“You’re all going to hell, I hope you know this,” he deadpanned, fixing the tight fuschia dress he’d picked for that night. It was thin strapped with a plunging v neck that went nearly to his navel, the bottom hem going to about mid thigh though one side was slit high, only held together by equally thin criss crossed straps. A soft pink lace thong barely kept his bits contained.

A Steve from a long time ago might have relished the fact that he was wearing something like this, might have laughed at the absurdity of it all, but now it just felt like any other uniform he was forced to wear. He wondered, idly, what Tommy and Carol would have thought about this one too.

“Knock ‘em dead, Vee,” Janice murmured, catching Steve’s eye with a seriousness that both caused anxiety and relief to course through him. He might very well be going to the gallows here, but at least he had never been alone.

Steve gave each one of them—Janice, Mona, Tiffany, Selena, Fen, Zuri, and Isabel—a small smile and a small wave of his fingers. “Don’t wait up, kids,” he teased back, scooping up the most important part of tonight: Kas’s rings, cleaned and polished and waiting to be used again. Just…hopefully not tonight.

He moved towards the door and knocked on it, alerting the guard on the other side that he was ready. Honestly, having their room guarded wasn’t anything new for them, but what was new was that their privacy was more or less respected. Though Steve didn’t have it as bad as the others with general day-to-day grunts working for Porzio, since the majority of the soldiers were predominantly heterosexual, the girls almost always had an audience when they bathed or changed for their duties. They had all expected that to remain the same.

Except, after being manhandled to their shared room, no guard lingered on the inside. Their room had obviously been searched, but it wasn’t ransacked or overly molested like Porzio’s people might have done. The only real disappointment was the wine Fen had secreted away after stealing it from one of Porzio’s parties was missing, but even then there hadn’t been a punishment waiting for them for the thievery.

Now, though they were still imprisoned in their room, Munson’s men waited outside and did not open the door to harass them whenever they wanted. At least, not yet. There was no telling how things might change, of course, as it hadn’t even been a full twelve hours since Munson and his men invaded Porzio’s mansion. And who was to say what would happen once they returned to Munson’s own domain.

Whether or not Steve was with them.

The guard set to act as his chaperone gave him a once over, something darkly amused but without the vitriol he was used to seeing in Porzio’s men who didn’t want to fuck him, and mockingly held out his hand for Steve to lead the way.

Were it Porzio’s men, he would have played it up, would have walked with a sway to his hips and played his role, but he couldn’t now. Not when he didn’t know what would be waiting for him on the other side of the doors he was far too familiar with. There had been days, weeks even, that he saw those doors and what was within more than he saw his own bed.

Steve knew the way well. He clenched the silver rings in his fist tightly, knowing that beyond being psychological warfare, his custodianship of them was also a test. These rings were a large part of Kas’s persona. Were Steve to lose or damage one now, he could only imagine the retaliation.

Swallowing the ball in his throat, Steve stepped up to the large double doors that led to Porzio’s room—now Munson’s. He ignored the soldiers on either side of the door, and the one at his back, and the way all three pairs of eyes seemed to burn a hole in his skull. The one on Steve’s left did have a look of distaste on his face, evident even in Steve’s peripheral, though oddly enough it seemed more to do with what he was wearing than what he was doing there.

Porzio made it no secret what he did, or that he would fuck anyone. Not everyone that worked for or with him agreed with his sexual liberation, but they kept their mouths shut around Porzio. Around Steve, on the other hand…well, Steve learned a fair few new swear words, and not all of them in English.

Munson’s men, however, didn’t seem to bat a single lash at the thought of Munson being some sort of queer. It was bizarre but not unwelcome, especially in regards to Steve’s (potential) continued existence amongst them.

Steve knocked on the door.

It was only a few moments’ wait, and then one side of the double doors cracked open, Munson appearing in the empty space to lean against the wood with a sharp grin. His dark eyes scanned over Steve, taking their time, which allowed Steve to do the same.

Munson had changed out of his blood splattered clothing, at least, though he wore more black slacks with a white wifebeater—Steve tried not to think of the significance of that terminology—with pale feet sticking out. Steve did his best not to stare, though his eyes tracked over the various pieces of ink and scarring now on display over Munson’s bare arms and peeking out from under his shirt, though not least of all his bare feet.

“Wonderful to see you again, my dear,” Munson all but purred from where he was draped against the door, one forearm pressed to the wood above his head. His eyes snapped to the soldiers and with a barest twitch of his brow indicated his orders. A mere split second later, all three men were walking away, causing Munson to return his grin to Steve, stepping back to allow him entrance into the room.

Determined to keep his legs beneath him—for however long Munson allowed that—Steve pushed his nerves away to stride into the room with his head held high. At least until a hand ghosted along his lower back and ass as he walked by, causing him to stumble slightly with a quickly drawn in breath.

Munson laughed at his reaction as he closed and locked the door behind him. “Rather skittish for an experienced whore,” he remarked, though the words were not quite as mocking as they could have been.

Steve felt a twinge of anger at Munson’s words, but he was good at keeping it off his expression now, his voice only slightly tighter than normal as he turned around to try to smile at the man who held his life in his hands.

“I am…merely surprised at seeing you, Daddy,” he replied, the part of him that adapted to survive wondering what sort of role Munson wanted him to play. The experienced whore, was it? Or did he like the skittishness? Should Steve sit on the bed, give him those come-hither eyes with smirking lips and teasing legs? Should he fumble and stutter and bashfully look at Munson through his lashes?

Instead, Steve did none of that, merely holding out his hand, palm up, rings nestled together for his new master to take his weapons back. Munson was going to do whatever the hell he wanted to Steve anyways, so what was the point? It was only delaying the inevitable.

Munson’s brow only quirked a little, then he was moving towards the bed himself, settling on the edge with spread legs. He pointed a finger down at the spot between his knees. “Kneel.”

Easier said than done, asshole, Steve wanted to snark back, but he merely swallowed back his sigh and moved to stand before the other man and, despite his annoyed thoughts, swiftly moved to kneel as instructed. Though his knees weren’t quite what they used to be after the abuse done to them, he had enough experience to move in his clothes easily, even when they otherwise restricted his movements.

He didn’t touch Munson, not yet, not until he was instructed to do so. He hadn’t lasted this long because he made things difficult for himself. And sure, maybe that meant he had been well and truly broken, but at least he was alive. At least…that’s what he told himself. Sometimes he wondered if he should have just fought fought fought until the end, but he had been broken already before he had driven the final nail in his coffin.

Firmly shoving all thoughts of that man to the back of his mind, Steve merely sat back on his heels and looked up at Munson expectantly. Nothing would ever change, and while some of the girls had wondered if this change in leadership would allow them a chance to escape, he knew better than that. Kas would never allow that to happen. If even just half the rumors of the Don was true, it was a miracle Steve’s brains hadn’t been bashed in as soon as Munson recognized him.

Munson’s fingers reached out, lightly trailing along Steve’s jaw where the bruising was, his thumb brushing over Steve’s bottom lip to slide over the healing cut there, courtesy of one of Porzio’s own rings. They had been gaudy things, more about flaunting his wealth than being weapons, but they still hurt when he backhanded Steve for whatever transgression he had made in that moment. He wasn’t looking forward to how cutting Munson’s would be.

As though hearing his thoughts, Munson released Steve’s jaw to hold out his hand. “Put them on.”

Steve clenched his fingers around the rings still in his hand for a brief moment to still their trembling, and then slowly he began slotting the rings onto the correct fingers, tensing whenever Munson cleared his throat when he’d start putting them on the incorrect ones until every ring was back in its proper place. Steve then dropped his hands back down to his own lap, clasping his fingers together as he waited for what came next.

Munson, for his part, leaned back with one hand while he examined the other, taking in the rings and how they glinted in the low lighting. The thick velvet curtains were drawn over the near floor to ceiling windows keeping the last vestiges of sunlight out, only the ornate torchères in the corners and the equally ornate table lamps on the bedside tables on either side of the massive bed casting a muted glow around the room.

Porzio had a tendency to overspend, to buy the most gaudy of decorations as though he were some rich lord on high, with far more culture and grace than he actually had. From the plush rugs to the thickly carved wooden furniture—including the four poster bed with heavy red brocade drapings—screamed at wanting to be seen as more important than he really was.

“You’re nothing like I remember, Harrington.”

Steve’s shoulders twitched in a small flinch when Munson said his name, a name he hadn’t heard spoken out loud in years, though he kept the grimace off his lips at least. His gaze remained on the other man’s hand, waiting for the strike he was certain was coming in one form or another.

“Neither are you,” escaped Steve’s lips in a snap without his consent, causing his eyes to widen slightly. “Sir,” he hastily tacked on, softening his tone to his gentler Vee voice he had thought he’d perfected. Having a face from his past thrown at him was causing no end of trouble, it seemed.

Before Steve could even babble further apology, Munson’s hand shot out to fiercely grab Steve by the jaw, his now beringed fingers digging into his bruises as the man leaned forward with a small snarl.

“Still a massive bitch though, I see,” Munson sneered, harshly squeezing Steve’s face between his fingers until a small whimper left him unbidden. With a scoffing roll of his eyes, Munson flung Steve’s face away from him and leaned back once more on the bed, this time with both hands.

Knowing better than to rub his smarting jaw, Steve drew in a shuddering breath after he was flung away, catching himself on the floor with one hand so he didn’t get sent sprawling to the side. He lowered his head in submission as he straightened back up into his kneel, trying not to let the heat of shame burn him alive.

“Forgive me, Daddy,” he whispered, fingers curling in his lap. “Please let me make it up to you.”

The silence that lingered after his request felt charged, heavy, making Steve’s muscles tense in anticipation of pain, even though he knew that that always made it worse. Kas was not known for being mild mannered. Though Steve had obviously never met Kas before, he had heard the stories. Knew that Kas would be smiling one moment and by the next you were swallowing your own teeth. He earned his nickname.

The rustle of the bedding and the creak of wood as Munson sat forward had Steve’s shoulders hitching slightly for whatever retaliation came his way, unable to suppress a flinch when he felt Munson’s fingers lightly play over the small clips in his hair. A softly exhaled breath left Munson, ghosting over Steve’s ear.

“Take your hair down, sweetheart. I can’t take you seriously when you have butterflies in your hair. And then we’ll put that bitchy little mouth of yours to good use.”

Oh.

Steve’s hands moved immediately to the clips and pins holding his hair up and curved to the side. It wasn’t quite as long as Munson’s—which was now roughly just past his shoulder blades—but it grazed the top of his shoulders in a more uniform length as opposed to the styled layers he’d once had. He greatly missed his Beloved Farrah Fawcett spray sometimes.

He worked swiftly, releasing the small clips and pins until his hair was free to fall loosely around him. The adornments were then set aside by the thick square post of the bed, making a mental note to remember them once he was dismissed. If he was dismissed. It wouldn’t do for Munson to somehow accidentally step on one.

Once his hair was free, Steve figured Munson’s words were permission enough. He raised up on his knees slightly to settle his hands just above Munson’s knees, sliding them up his thighs, but froze when he felt the muscles beneath his palms tense up. Looking up through his lashes, Steve tried his best to hide how nervous he was, especially when Munson just stared at him with that blank expression of his. Should he have waited for a more blatant command to suck the guy’s dick?

A smirk suddenly tugged at one corner of Munson’s lips however, a mocking little laugh leaving him. “I’m almost tempted to let you continue, to see just how well Porzio had you trained, but we have other matters to discuss tonight, sweetheart.”

Unable to hold his frown of confusion back, Steve stared up at Munson with a head tilted in question and furrowed brows. He knew better than to speak out of turn, however, especially when he was already traversing over incredibly thin ice. He kept his hands where he held them pressed into Munson’s thighs, not wanting to risk his ire one way or another.

“You know, you look like a dog when you do that, with your big dumb brown eyes. Did you howl like a bitch too when Porzio mounted you from behind?” Munson sat forward, bringing his hands to cover Steve’s, pressing them harder into his thighs. “Would you howl if I bent you over right now and bred you like the whore you are?” he asked in what was almost a crude bastardization of a lover’s whisper.

Nausea roiled in Steve’s stomach as he did his best not to flinch back as Munson’s face got closer to his own. He thickly swallowed, trying not to let his annoyance show when Munson took obvious enjoyment in his discomfort. He wondered if Munson would be this much of an asshole if he hadn’t recognized Steve, or if this was some form of revenge for being one of the popular kids when they were in high school.

If Munson had stuck around in Hawkins, had been there for Steve’s senior year, he would have seen just how Steve’s popularity had deserted him. Just like everyone else.

“If you want me to, Daddy,” he forced himself to softly murmur, instead of whatever else he might have told the former Freak of Hawkins High. “Say the word and I’ll howl, bark, and beg.”

Munson studied him for a moment, contemplative, before lifting a hand to lightly take the ‘V’ charm hanging from his collar between his fingers. “Well,” he replied. “You are already wearing a collar. Maybe I should put a leash on you, take you for a walk for everyone to see.” He smirked then, wiggling a finger under the strap of the collar until Steve felt a sharp pain as his knuckle dug into his throat, tugging Steve forward. “Maybe I ought to see just how well you can roll over.”

Steve did his best not to wince, to keep the grimace he wanted to spit at Munson solidly hidden beneath his Vee mask, but even so he couldn’t stop the wrinkle to his brow at the pain of the man’s knuckle digging into his throat or the sharp tug forward. He swallowed as best he could, looking up at the man who quite literally held his life in his hands.

“Tell me what you want from me, Daddy,” he breathed against the pressure to his throat, shifting slightly as though eager for whatever order Munson would give him.

It was fake, all of it, but what else could Munson expect? It wasn’t like Steve—or any of his girls—had chosen to be here. Just like the guns and the drugs and everything else, they were nothing but merchandise. Steve might have, once upon a time, thought about wearing dresses and makeup simply because he wanted to, but that brief moment in time was long gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to wear something simply because he wanted to.

Christ, what he wouldn’t give for some fucking sweatpants.

A reward.

Munson had said, hours earlier, that if Steve and the others behaved, they might get a reward. He had initially (though secretly) scoffed at the idea, figuring that by ‘reward’, Munson really meant some new act of depravity acted out upon their person. Those were the sorts of rewards Porzio always left them with.

Or the promised reward would be snatched out from under them for whatever minuscule infraction they caused, which was more probable. Even if Steve performed his services well, chances were that Munson would find some fault and taunt him with the loss of something he would never have to begin with.

But…but what if he did? He doubted the reward would be anything grand. Not unless it was something for Munson. Some shiny new toy to use against them, something to give Munson more pleasure than them. But maybe, if Steve behaved exceptionally well and stopped fighting against the thought of it being Munson instead of Kas…

Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a steadying breath, and then pushed everything that made him Steve into a deep, dark corner of his mind and slammed the door closed. He would be Vee, and Munson would be Kas, and maybe he could actually survive this new horror.

Opening his eyes once more, Steve offered Munson an almost pouty smile, moving his free hand up Munson’s thigh once more to press his palm to where he could feel Munson’s interest growing. He wasn’t fully hard yet, which wasn’t ideal, but he certainly wasn’t flaccid either. It was a start, and he could feel the twitch of Munson beneath his palm that spoke of further interest.

Except Munson moved his hands from Steve to grab his wrist and pull his hand away, though Steve did not let the brief pain pull him away from the persona he had to be. Munson wasn’t even gripping him too hard, certainly not hard enough to bruise, just something firm and demanding.

“Jesus, Harrington,” Munson hissed. His dark eyes narrowed as he studied Steve, fingers still tight but not quite biting around his wrist. “You really do know your role well. With that dumb expression on your face, I could almost believe you’re not plotting my demise at any given second, thinking about the best way to kill me.”

Steve paled. He knew Munson would never consider him a genuine threat, but he knew what Don Kas did to anyone who didn’t fall in line, who threatened his rule. Steve’s eyes darted to the thick, brutal rings adorning Munson’s fingers, the icy prickling of fear clawing its way through his gut and to his chest.

“Please, Daddy, I’m not, I swear,” he whispered, almost a whimper, verbally prostrating himself as he shoved himself further into the persona he had to be. Became more of the pitiful, obedient whore. “I would never. I’ll be such a good girl for you, I promise. I-I’m not Harrington anymore. I’m Vee. Only Vee. Only yours, Daddy, please.”

The fingers wrapped around his wrist finally tightened, the blunt edges of Munson’s nails biting into the tender flesh of his inner wrist, and then he was being moved. A gasp left Steve unbidden as he was yanked off his knees and spun, suddenly finding himself on his back with the familiar canopy of Porzio’s—Munson’s bed above him. At least until it was blocked out by Munson’s face staring at him with eyes like black ice.

Munson’s weight settled over him, thighs on either side of his hips to keep him bracketed in, one wrist pinned above his head while Munson twisted his other to expose his inner wrist to Steve’s eyes, though he knew what was there. He’d been there, after all, when it had been inked into his flesh: Porzio’s crest.

Steve, and the rest of the girls Porzio bought to keep, were tattooed and branded like a fucking pig, Porzio claiming ownership over their flesh. The only one who had yet to be branded was Isabel, the newest and youngest of the girls, though it was just an inevitability. Or at least, it had been. Now with Munson owning them, he had no idea what to expect.

Munson sneered from above Steve, and whatever Steve had thought of his grip before, it was certainly bruising now. Steve let out a small whimper of pain and fear, eyes flickering between the dark ink marked on his right wrist and Munson’s darker eyes above.

“Mine, you say? Yet here you are, wearing the brand of another man. What am I supposed to do about that, Vee,” Munson mocked. “You’ve been with Porzio for a while now. Do you really expect me to trust your loyalty?”

Despite himself, despite his fear, a scowl twisted Steve’s expression in a very Steve way; Vee didn’t make facial expressions like that. “I had zero loyalty to that cerdo,” he snapped, feeling like Selena’s term was appropriate in that moment. “I’m glad you killed him.”

“Yeah?” Munson’s fingers tightened their hold on Steve’s wrists, causing another pained gasp to escape him. “You gonna feel the same way when someone comes to kill me? You gonna drop to your knees for my killer too? Gonna spread your legs and beg your new Daddy to fuck you?”

Steve knew he was in danger, also knew that if he said anything but an agreement that Munson wouldn’t believe him. And hell, it was the truth. Steve would do whatever it took to protect himself, but more than that, whatever it took to protect his girls. If that meant letting Munson kill him now…

“Yes,” he whispered, which Munson had apparently not been expecting at all given the way his eyes widened slightly and his hold relaxed enough that Steve didn’t feel like his bones were being ground together.

Steve sucked in a breath to get the rest out before Munson’s rings took away his ability to form sentences. “Yes,” he repeated, “if it kept my girls alive. If I knew it would keep them safe. I am the bitch of anyone who holds my leash and I will do my job well, whoever it is. But…” Steve breathed, his gaze tracking over Munson’s blank expression, dark eyes unfathomable, but the Don made no move towards retaliation yet.

“But when Porzio decided to move against you, I knew from the start that it would not end well for him. He was an idiot for trying. Everyone knows who Kas is. Maybe that means you have a lot of enemies who would like to kill you, but…you haven’t fallen yet. So if I’m going to throw my genuine lot in with anyone, the smartest play would be to get behind the strongest player. You. So no, Porzio didn’t have my loyalty because he couldn’t protect us.”

Steve nervously licked his lips, trying to put all his sincerity into his next words, trying to straddle that line between Vee and Steve. “It’s like you said, sir. Quid pro quo. If you can keep my girls safe, if you continue to tear down your enemies, I swear to you that I’ll do whatever you want. I swear that you’ll have my loyalty, and my girls’ loyalty. If someone moves against you, we’ll stand with you.”

Steve drew in a shuddering breath then, willing away his fear-induced nausea, and let his muscles go completely lax beneath Munson who still had yet to react. He had to make this count.

“I’m yours, Daddy. However you want me. However long you want me. Whatever you want to do to me, I’ll gladly accept. Burn this mark off of me and brand me with your own. Carve it out of my flesh. Why would I ever want to belong to anyone other than Don Kas the Bloody-Handed?”

It was a risk, he knew.

After all, this wasn’t just the mobster that had been growing a name for himself for years; this was Edward Munson, the boy whose school life Steve’s friends had made a living hell. It didn’t matter if Steve joined in with them or not. It didn't matter if Steve gave the occasional protest when he saw it go too far. Steve was the perfect scapegoat for any old resentment Munson might be harboring.

And more or less telling him that, yeah, if someone did manage to best him, Steve would be the pliant whore for them as well? It might not matter that Steve was choosing him over anyone who might try, all that mattered was how Munson would take Steve’s promise of current loyalty, if he would believe him.

Steve had been doing this for years already, however. Porzio might have been his longest owner, but he wasn’t Steve’s first. The life expectancy of someone like him? It wasn’t looking good, nevermind the fact that Steve was now closer to thirty than he was twenty like when he first got trapped in this life. He knew his time was running out no matter what.

All Steve could hope to do was protect his girls for a little while longer.

Munson’s expression shifted finally, a sneer returning to his lips as his fingers tightened once more. He pressed Steve’s other wrist to the mattress above his head as well and leaned down to breathe his next words into Steve’s ear, causing Steve to shiver.

“I don’t think I trust you, sweetheart,” Munson growled against him. “Not yet at least. Who knows what deceit you’re hiding under that pretty little dress of yours.” Munson’s tone turned mockingly sweet then, and Steve could hear the smirk in his voice even if he couldn’t quite see it. “So why don’t you do Daddy a favor and…take it off.”

And then Munson was off of him, the air chilled where he had once been. Steve sucked in a shaky lungful of air as he processed Munson’s words. Processed what they must mean. With great difficulty he lifted his head to see Munson standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed lazily and expression expectant, his gaze traveling over Steve’s form and lingering where the bottom of his dress had risen almost entirely to his hips, a flash of pale pink lace peeking out.

Dread filled Steve once more, but this he understood. This was familiar. Munson was giving him a chance to prove himself. If he could make this good for Munson, could please him, then Steve might just be able to live to see another day.

Carefully, slowly, Steve slid off the bed. Then, taking a deep breath, Steve began to undress.

~

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

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[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 2

Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU

Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut (mild), treat it as a normal Enemies 2 Lovers book, but the A/B/O dynamic will appear at some point.

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

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Chapter 2

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to go…” Your mother protested, tears running down her face as she looked at how you were stuffing your suitcases. You sniffled, the tears running down your face, even after two months had gone by, after everything turned upside down in your life, in your perfectly organized life.

“I have to– I can’t– I can’t stay here. I can’t stay with these memories Ma. I can’t.” You sobbed as you put one of your shirts in your suitcase, followed by a stuffed bunny plushie from your childhood. You didn’t want to leave, you really didn’t, but what choice did you have? It is a small town, everyone knows everything about everyone, and you cannot stand being here another day longer.

“I know, I know, it was hard darling…” Your mother said as she sniffled again, covering her mouth to swallow her sobs and you simply shook your head in disbelief as you closed the suitcase.

“Hard doesn’t even begin to describe it… It doesn’t even compare.” You sat on the bed, your hands over your face to sob into them. The despair you felt inside, the loneliness of it all was ripping you from inside out. You were happy, two months ago, and now you cannot wait to move on, do a restart in your mind and body, forget about everything else, forget about Atlanta and the people in it.

Your mother, your sweet mother, sat next to you, putting a hand on your back, soothing you, or trying to. Your head found her shoulder easily, sobbing there as she held you close to her.

“We’ll always be here if you need us… We’re a call away, and some hours of driving. You don’t have to be afraid of anything my dove.” She caressed your head, gently, her own sobs filling the room, going in the same beat as yours.

—————————————————

You opened your eyes with a gasp, your breathing slightly heavy, as if panting and you felt moisture in your cheeks. You raised your hand up to rub onto your flesh, noticing you had cried in your sleep. Great. Fantastic.

It’s been a year, yet those memories keep coming into your mind. Memories that altered your way of living all together. Memories that hurt you in the deepest of your heart and soul, to the point that your way of being and your way of socializing changed thanks to them.

You got up from your queen sized bed, walking towards the bathroom that was right next to the bedroom. You have a nice, warm and cozy apartment, with one bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room, a kitchen in a separate room. Your job paid well, gladly, so you couldn’t complain about where you were living right now. You missed a house, of course, but at least you were alone with your thoughts here.

Although you didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

You woke up before your alarm, noticing the sun coming up just now, so you took the chance to shower yourself, humming under the water to some Ed Sheeran. You grew to like him actually, which you didn’t before, not at all. When you first heard his music you found it cheesy, almost too corny for your taste.

Yet here you were, jamming to it months later.

You walked out of your long shower, wearing only your lilac robe around your body. You walked towards your living room, turning the tv on to see the news and figure what time it is.

6:20 AM.

Yep, too early. You looked at the small headline below the forecast one.

Female Betas protest over single motherhood and gay rights.

You sighed at it. You still don’t know why people say Beta nowadays. It’s just male and female, maybe something in between or someone who identifies as nothing at all, but there’s no need for the word Beta anymore. The last Alpha ever heard of was in 1932, and last Omega, 1940.

You wondered how a Female Alpha looked like. It sounds weird, but that’s what it was, a secondary gender. So apart from having a vagina, replacing the clitoris you would have found– You squirmed at the thought. Male Omegas had it the same. You remembered the anatomy book you found in a restricted section at the library of your school, and it showed the anatomy of the Male Omega. His sack was gone, and right below his penis, the slit would form, like a vagina.

You squirmed again. It sounds too surreal. Too much like a fictional book, but it did happen in real life, and it’s weird to even think it did. But, so many things happened in the world that are hard to believe, such as wars, starvation, communism, and so much more. Guess that part of life isn’t so weird if you think about it if you compare it to WWII.

Now, the title of the headline did get your attention. You sign too many contracts to do the fertility treatment, but sadly one of laws commands that it is illegal to start treatment without a spouse or a partner that will undergo the same treatment with you. There are so many single women that want kids without the need to get impregnated by a partner. There is adoption of course, but they think that by making the baby have two parents, the likelihood of it getting abandoned is lower, so adoption always takes a long while, even years.

And also, same sex couples cannot undergo the fertility treatment, because that would mean they would have to be inseminated or have a surrogate. You just thought it was simple homophobia at this point. The child would have two loving parents nonetheless.

You scoffed at the TV, turning it off, heading towards your room to get ready for the day. It’s Tuesday now, and you were wishing that it was the weekend already.

————————————————

“Okay, so maybe put the skirts of Balenciaga on Pages 23 to 25, so that it can jump right into the dresses.” You explained as you started putting the pictures and paragraphs over the lit up table below you, making it look like a page. You examined it once and nodded, liking the overall look of it, and turned to Robin, who was absent minded with her phone. “Robin, are you even listening to me?”

“Oh, shit, yeah sorry.” She put the phone away and looked at the work below her and nodded, grabbing a photo and switching it up with the one below. “There, if you put the green skirt at the top the page will look droopy since the red skirt is at the bottom.” You looked down at the work and nodded.

“Yeah. That does look better.” You looked at her as she started assigning the dress pictures for the next pages. “What’s got you so distracted, Buckley?” You asked with a smile to your face, knowing who she might have been talking to. She blushed immediately and turned to look at you.

“Am I too obvious?” She asked you and you finally let out a giggle, nodding, looking down to start arranging the paragraphs and pictures for the next pages. The magazines were solely for designers and famous people. This wasn’t out for the general public, because the public magazine is arranged by another team entirely. This is basically the catalog for rich people.

“Oh Robin, yes. You are a blushing mess when you look at your phone… I’m guessing Vickie is coming to visit?” You asked her with a wiggle of eyebrows and she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

“Yes, yes she is…” You smiled at your friend, happy for her really. Even if the girl that was coming over was just a friend, Robin has been crushing on her since high school or something. She always tells you that she will confess, that this time will be the one, but she never does. Hopefully your friend gets the courage she needs and goes for it. You have met Vickie, and everytime she’s over because of family business, she visits Robin, so you kind of know that there’s more than just a simple friendship there.

“She better leave town not single Buckley.” You smirk at her, making her throw a ball of paper at your head, a laugh escaping your lips at her flushness. You take out your own cell phone this time, Robin leaning over to look at your screen and groaning loudly when she sees you open up your Instagram chat with Jason Carver.

“You have to be shitting me.” She says out loud, making you look at her with a groan.

“It’s just a dick! It’s been a while…” You excuse yourself slightly and look down at your screen. “Plus, he looks buffed, and cute.” You say with a smile as you look at the time for your date. Friday at 7 PM. He is in town because one of his buddies has a birthday party in Indianapolis, so he was in the city for the week.

“If I even begin to tell you what he has done at school…” You rolled your eyes as you looked back up at Robin.

“That’s the past, this is the present. And the present tells me he is hot, he is built, and he looks like he can make me have a good time!”

“You’re going to regret it though.” Robin responded with a smirk and you squinted at her.

“You’re starting to sound like Munson.” She gave a throaty laugh at you and shook her head.

“For once, I agree with him, it’ll be a disappointment.”

“I bet he won’t.”

———————————————

It was.

It definitely was.

You were walking towards your car after going back to the motel room he got for the week, and you shifted in your legs for the orgasm you could not reach, because the fucker only knew how to shuffle your clit like an amateur dj.

And you cursed to the sky when he pulled his pants down and… Munson was right. He was small, not like a thumb, but smaller than the average. You faked most of your moans, faked an orgasm for the whole action of 7 minutes.

He was a nice dude, nothing like the bully they mentioned, but he was lacking so much in the physical department. Now, you would have to fake a smile, act like you had your shit rocked as you drove towards Robin and Steve’s shared small one story home. You weren’t going to grace them with letting them know they were right. When Robin has been telling you all week how bad that date was gonna go. Steve, Nancy and Argyle backing her up.

Eddie was the worst of them.

You looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, and reapplied your gloss. Your make up was almost untouched because well… That’s really how bad the sex was. You parked, stepping out of the car to walk towards the front door, and you shook yourself first trying to act the least shaken from what transpired tonight, and try to look somewhat satisfied.

You could already hear laughter on the other side, and you knew the door was unlocked for you to step in, so, taking a deep breath in, you opened the door, walking into the living room to see everyone sitting down on the couches and chairs while drinking away, including now, Vickie. They all looked up to see you enter, and you smiled at Robin as she whistled away at your arrival.

“So, how was the dick Dudette?” Argyle smiled as you sat down on the couch, grabbing a beer from the coffee table, opening it to take a sip from it.

“It was nice. You all didn’t give him enough credit, jesus.” You lied with a smirk towards Robin, who rolled her eyes at you. You heard a scoff from your right side, from a person who was sitting on the floor as they rolled up a joint. “Anything to say Munson? I mean, I at least am getting some.”

“Jason Carver is not someone to brag about. Trust us on that.” He licked onto the paper of the joint to seal it closed, and his eyes landed on you. You raised your eyebrows at him, completely unamused and he snorted as if he remembered a joke in his head, making everyone look at him.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asks as he takes a sip of his whiskey while he sat next to Robin.

“Ah, nothing. Just… Bullshit.” He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he looked at you one more time. That sent a shiver down your spine. What is wrong with him?

“Whatever.” You grabbed the pack of cigarettes that were on the coffee table, probably Steve’s, taking one stick out, and the lighter. You grabbed onto your can of beer as well, getting up from the couch to go to the small yard outside in order to smoke. You were feeling watched right now, and not by any of your friends. They couldn’t care less if it went well or not with Jason, because they just didn’t like him at all.

And the shiver followed you all the way outside, as Eddie Munson came out of the house as well, already lighting the joint as he stood next to you. You scrunched up your nose at the smell. You weren’t a person that liked weed that much, because the few times you did try it, you ended up on a bad trip.

“Can you at least move away a bit?” You immediately started, feeling the smoke hit you right in the face as you tried to smoke onto your own cancer stick. He chuckled and didn’t move from his place.

“So… Is it already time for me to say, I told you so?” He suddenly says, making your head snap at him as your heart starts to increase its pace in nerves.

“Told me what, Munson?”

“That it was going to be a disappointment. Which it was, obviously.” You shook your head, taking another drag of your cigarette as you looked at him, now slightly angered. He wasn’t going to sour your mood, not when it was already on the floor thanks to the lack of orgasm in the night.

“Why would I say something like that? I had a good time–”

“Yeah, okay, did you cum?”

“Excuse me?!” You exclaimed, now pissed off and also growing a glowing red on the face because he could see through you, once again. It was just embarrassing to know that he saw through you right after you had sex.

“By your way of acting, I am guessing a flat out No.” He said with a snicker in his lips as he took a hit of his joint.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business what I do intimately or what they do to me for that matter.” You say with venom in your throat and he finally looks at you, a sly smirk in the corner of his lips, and once more, you wanted to burn his face with the first flammable thing you could find.

“I will say it now Sweetheart, so you can save your bullshit story.” He leaned over, close to your face and you were stuck on the ground. You could smell his cologne, followed by something like bonfire, or just a wooden scent. Your eyes were locked in his, as he got closer, but you weren’t going to lose to him. You weren’t going to step back and show fear. No. He noticed, making him smirk again and finally spoke into your face, the hint of weed hitting your nostrils. “I. Told. You. So.”

Your nose flared up in anger, and that was it. His taunting. His insults. His ways of riling you up whenever he had a chance. You were sick. Sick of it. Sick that he could read you like an open book. Sick that he knew what was going on with you without even asking. Sick that he knew how bad you were getting right now, and all he was doing was smiling even wider.

So that was it.

You stepped back, putting the can in front of you and in his face, and all you did was squeeze, hard, and out of nowhere.

His face got drenched, in one second. His arms wide on his sides so it wouldn’t get on his clothes, and he stepped back as well as he spat the beer that got in his mouth. He then wiped his face with the hand that wasn’t holding the joint and glared, as his breath was going through his teeth, as if snarling at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You stood your ground as he took a step closer to you, and you shook your head at him, throwing your cigarette to the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with YOU?! Who the fuck do you think you are, claiming to know about me, or what I think, or what I go through?!” He rolled his eyes as he wiped his face with his sleeve now, throwing the ruined joint to the ground.

“Jesus, you should really go and get off sweetheart, maybe your mood will lighten up if you do.” He snapped back at you, which only angered you even more, turning red all over. He didn’t need to remind you how miserable your night was. Not him.

“Maybe you should mind your own goddamn business for once.” You snapped back and you were ready to jump into his jugular, you just didn’t care anymore. If killing Munson was going to be the end of your career and life, then so be it. You’ll take the risk.

But he was saved when Robin rushed out with Steve, drinks in hand and looking completely wide eyed at the both of you.

“What the fuck is going on–” Robin started, and it was just too quick. It happened so fast you didn’t catch it at first. It was quick how Eddie grabbed onto Robin’s drink, a glass full of rum and coke, and the next second you know it, you are drenched, and the fucking drink even got in your eyes, making you wince in pain and stepping back, holding your face.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MUNSON!” You yelled as the burning didn’t stop in your eyes, but the burning in your chest was so much bigger. It was so much, so much build up going on. So many failed dates. So many failed hook ups. So much failure. And he is constantly reminding you of them.

“Eddie, get the fuck out.” Steve looked at Eddie, who simply rolled his eyes as he still wiped his face from the beer of before and as he was about to answer to Steve, to tell him you had started it all, he tumbled to the ground, a huge weight straddling his chest, compressing on his lungs, almost knocking the air out of him, until he looked up to see your blood shot, red eyes. Be it from the incoming tears, from the burning of the alcohol, from the pure fury you were feeling at the moment, nobody knew, not even yourself.

But as you raised your hands to start slamming them, anywhere you could on his face, or chest, or just anywhere, as you sat on his chest after you tackled him, he was quick to grab your wrists as you both thrashed on the ground. It was childish, snapping like this, but you were just so fed up. And you hated him. You hated him. You fucking hated him.

“Holy shit!” You heard Robin calling out your name, but it was just a buzz, feeling your shoulders being grabbed onto, trying to pull you away but you were just seeing red. Complete red.

“Get the fuck off me!” He yelled, and you could feel a rumble underneath your chest, but you didn’t pay it any mind, you were just being controlled by so many pent up feelings, so many emotions you didn’t know you were even holding, and he cracked your shell open, in two seconds. Your name was now called by someone else, probably Steve.

“What the fuck happened in the two seconds you both came outside?!” He asked as you tried to break free from Eddie’s hold, to land a punch, anything at all, but he sat already pissed off at your aggression, coming face to face with you. His breath was flaring through his nose as the grip in your wrists tightened, his neck a red hue now. You knew he was controlling himself to not do anything to you, and as you were about to spit in his face, you were being pulled away by Robin and Vickie, holding you back.

Jonathan and Steve were getting Eddie up from the floor and he looked at you, venom and resentment in his eyes, and you felt a cold sweat run through your body as you finally talked again, praying your voice didn’t break at all.

“Stay the fuck away from my business Munson! You think you know everything about everyone, but you know jack shit!” At this he fake laughed and his serious tone came afterwards.

“Just because I call you out in your bullshit, doesn’t mean I am interested in any of it. Be fucking sincere for once, because maybe, just maybe darling, that might be the reason your dates fucking fail.” And you froze in place, no longer struggling, the pit in your stomach becoming bigger and bigger at each word he spat out. You felt as a coldness filled your whole body, your brain slowly shutting down, and you didn’t think it could get worse.

“Eddie!” Robin called him out.

But he didn’t stop.

“Have you ever thought that maybe, probably, POSSIBLY, you are the problem?”

Eddie, in most of his life, never regretted his words. He always says what he thinks, without a beat, without really thinking of how the other would feel about it. Nobody cared how he felt in his life, whenever people threw words at him, or what he heard people say about him, so he learnt to simply not care about them either. He said what he thought, whenever he wanted, however he wanted.. He always took pride in the coldness he created, in the acting of being nonchalant to his own words.

But as he saw your brows twitch, your features fall, and he could even see when your eyes moved to a distant place, as if you were no longer with them… He regretted them. He deeply regretted them.

You were just standing there, not really focusing on anyone, not even to the person that said those words that haunt you even in your sweetest dreams. Because, what he said, what he just thought of you, was something you thought about constantly.

What if it was all your fault?

You could hear your name being called, slowly pulling you back to earth, and that’s when you realized you weren’t breathing. You gasped when you came back, looking at Robin who had a shocked look on her face as she held your hand. She was about to ask you something, probably if you were okay, but you simply let go of her and Vickie’s hands, and walked inside the house, calmly.

You didn’t even say goodbye to Argyle, who was waiting on the couch, calling you out, asking if you were alright, but you kept going, towards the front door. You didn’t want to stay there a minute longer. You couldn’t process your thoughts properly, because you could feel it. The vomit. The vile. The knot in the stomach from the pain and the betrayal you suffered.

You had these episodes before, but it happened whenever you got a reminder on a social media app, or if your mother without noticing said something to you about it. You simply shut down, like a machine, your feelings becoming numb, and all you need is some time alone, watch a comfort show, or movie.

You could feel your phone buzzing, but you didn’t care. Not even as you finally reached your apartment complex, not even when you crossed the front door of your house, not even when you took a glass of water, not even before taking a shower.

Only after it, you managed to pull up your messages, and answer to Robin, despite the rest of the gang, except for a particular person, sending you messages as well. Robin might be the only one you could say you trusted enough to let her know you were safe. So you did. You answered to her and simply wrote:

‘I’m home.’

And then, you went to sleep.

—————————————————————

End of chapter 2

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[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 10: Is This Not Control?

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: You're forced to come to terms with the danger – and the beauty – in the way your powers burn.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 4.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, near-injury, arguing, skipping a meal, nightmares containing death (this is brief)

a/n: THIS is the chapter that made me keep going with this fic. I read it back after a looong break, and realised I wanted to finish after reading some of this where our main pair are so.... close... to revealing something. especially Jungkook... what is going through his head?

“You’re getting too good at this!”

The shriek came from Hobi, currently several metres in the air.

Laughing, you let him come down to you, where he landed with ease befitting a villain. You really ought to work on that yourself – which was precisely why you were here. He had asked you to train with him, bringing you the chance to work on something more athletic, and him to add even more danger into his death-defying stunts.

Smirking, you flipped your hair.

“Maybe next time I’ll really try, then you’ll have another think coming,” you goaded.

Grin wide, he scoffed.

“You really are as bad as Kook. He was always insufferable when we did this too!”

“You’ve trained like this with Jungkook?” you asked, “in that case, I don’t know why I’ve been going so easy on you.”

That joyous laugh of his filled the training space, already raring to go again.

“Let’s see what you got then!”

Just like that, he took off, eyes igniting yellow before he was springing from the floor and kicking off a higher block to rejoin the array of obstacles.

“Can’t fly, my ass,” you muttered, turning to take the long way up.

Even if Hobi claimed his power to be purely athletic, you still couldn’t fathom the way he navigated the skies with such ease unless some sort of gravity fuckery was involved. With a leap, you pulled yourself onto a platform, finding him already streaking ahead.

Beginning to run, you aimed your first shot at the same time as you launched over the next gap.

Blue cut through the air, Hobi’s laughter ringing out as it hit the floor he had just been standing on. By now, he was swinging away on suspended ropes.

Spyng another opening, you fired a longer bolt this time, forming a glowing barrier in the air. Kicking his legs up, Hope managed to swing and arc over it. Impressed, you cut off the attack, heart only stopping for a second as he landed hard against a ladder protruding from the wall. Though you had full faith in his abilities, it never got less jarring to see what he could pull off.

The two of you continued like that, a cat-and-mouse around the obstacles. It certainly kept you both on your toes.

As you went, settling into the movements, you took a few more risks. When in the training room, it was fun to test it out. Not to mention, knowing Hobi was this capable also boosted your confidence in having each other’s backs in a real situation.

Exhilarated from the rush of movement, you pushed yourself, sprinting and leaping over gaps and vaulting corners, an equal amount of focus on your electric offensive.

As much as you had joked with Hobi, you couldn’t bring yourself to aim with everything you had. Besides, aiming your shots to only brush the air beside him would improve your accuracy more, if anything.

In true Hope fashion, he stayed constantly ahead of you, practically running loops around the ceiling while you tried to keep up.

He leapt overhead as you pulled yourself onto a platform, making you spin to follow his change in direction. But you could predict the path he would take. Stopping for a moment, you raised your arm, lining it up to graze the soles of his trainers as he leapt towards a series of steps.

Pulling himself out of the way in time, his momentum continued his path while your bolts chased him, blue splashes in his wake.

Grinning, you finally followed him, jumping up a level and letting another shot go at the same time.

But as you landed, your feet slipped with the force, arms instinctively shooting out to correct your balance. The training room floor wobbled too far below you, teetering for a heart-stopping second at the edge.

Safely righted, you turned back to find Hobi.

Your chest tightened, heart seizing once more.

The dazzling, dangerous blue sizzled through the air, not hitting the mark you had intended. Time slowed down as Hope jerked away from it, only to fumble his footing on the next landing, only a thin ledge high on the wall.

His body slammed against it, his arms grappling for the edge he had just slipped from.

Blue collided, scorching the dark wall above him, but you could only watch in petrified terror as he started to fall. It was too fast, while your body was left frozen, powerless as he plummeted.

Somehow, he twisted, trying to kick off the wall on his way down, as you had seen him do so often. His path changed a little, velocity easing as he grasped a rope, but it escaped his fingers, unable to catch on with the speed of his fall.

He reached the floor. Rolled, half-colliding with the base of one of the scaffoldings you had just been racing around.

“Hobi!” you breathed, lungs only just beginning to cooperate.

With the newfound movement returning to you, you unthinkingly stepped off the side of your own platform, shooting blue lightning to the ground to support your descent. It wasn’t a skill you had practised much, and with the way your arms were shaking, you didn’t make it smoothly, but you stumbled onto the ground, just managing not to fall on your face.

You were already tripping over yourself to get to Hobi’s side.

He was sitting up – how, you had no idea. Somehow, you seemed the most stricken of the two as you practically collapsed at his side while he grinned around at you, rubbing his head. Was he hurt?

“Oh my goodness, Hobi, I’m so- I didn’t mean to actually-”

“Hey, don’t worry-” he tried to say, a bit breathless but still smiling. You barely heard him, though, hands quickly coming to his head where he was clutching it.

“Shit, I wasn’t looking, I shouldn’t have shot…”

Your panicked apologies accompanied you kneeling up, trying to get a look at him. Neither of you noticed the figure passing the doorway, stopping as he saw you two knelt together.

“Y/N!”

Hobi succeeded in getting your attention only by catching your wrists, stopping your hands as they fussed over him. Looking up at you, he fixed you with a firmer gaze than you were used to from him. Checking he had your attention, he placed your hands away from him and relaxed.

“I’m fine,” he emphasised, “you think you’re going to knock me down so easily? Imagine, ‘feared villain falls over in training, defeated.’”

Heart still pounding a little too much, you huffed a bewildered laugh.

Dropping your hands entirely, he sat back. You kept them there, some of the frantic energy fizzling from your body.

Grin taking up residence on his face once again, Hope leaned in conspirationally.

“I thought you would be pleased to get the one-up on me,” he teased, “you literally said you weren’t going to go easy.”

Your real challenge had been to aim near enough but not too close, but of course Hoseok didn’t know that. The precision practice you had been going for had failed, you hadn’t won!

Swallowing all that down, you half-heartedly tried to smile. You stayed kneeling opposite him, still too shaken to stand.

“Are you sure your head’s ok?” you asked weakly.

To your surprise, he laughed brightly. But then again, that was a signature Hobi response.

“Yeah, I just hadn’t bargained on a free haircut!”

Bringing his hand up back to the spot you had noticed him grabbing earlier, he pulled on a chunk of his hair, showing it to you. The lock was shorter than the rest of his hair which flopped around his head; it had been chopped off roughly, the ends singed and blackened.

You gaped, staring at it even as he let it fall back among his hair.

“See, it was only my hair, and it needs a chop,” he elbowed you, “no black hole through my heart!”

That certainly wasn’t an image you wanted. Any reminder of how close you had been to hurting your friend was unbearable, the black splotch in his hair bad enough.

You blanched, but didn’t get any further into apologising.

“Looks like she tried hard enough, though.”

Instantly, you tensed at Jungkook’s voice.

Hobi’s grin slipped a little, glancing past you. You, too, turned, finding Jungkook advancing, fists clenched at his sides. He had clearly come from working out: in his gym clothes, hair tied back but falling loose from movement. Except, in place of the animalistic vigour you knew training infused in him, his glare towards you was hard and shut-off.

It scared you more than what you had seen there before. Normally his fury burned, but now it was cold.

“Get away from him,” he ordered.

For once, nothing in you fought to argue. With the heavy weight of your mistake sitting in your stomach, you could only agree, and silently complied.

As you stood, Hobi shot to his feet quicker.

“Kook, leave it. We were training, this shit happens-”

“You were training with her?!” Jungkook exclaimed, “that was bound to end badly.”

“Then it’s my fault!” Hope pressed. He stepped towards Jungkook, but you only shrunk back from the two of them. “I asked her to join me!”

“You weren’t the one who shot you out of the air.”

“That’s hardly what-” Hobi sighed, “Kook, you’re being dense, there’s no problem. I trust Y/N.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” the younger ground back, before turning a glinting eye on you, “maybe you shouldn’t.”

You sucked in a breath at his words, feeling them lodge deep inside you like bullets. But it was your own guilt that dug them in there, the reason they didn’t deflect. He was right.

That didn’t make it sting any less.

Feeling nothing but his gaze fixed on you, you longed to escape it. Run free of the reminders of what you did, what you almost caused, and how that hurt him as well.

And so you did.

At least you kept yourself from breaking into a full sprint. After a charged moment, the tension not allowing you to breathe, you stepped desperately away, rushing for the door.

You paid no mind to Hope’s crestfallen call of your name.

Leaving them behind you, trying not to feel worse at the fact that you couldn’t even stand to face your guilt head-on, you simply blundered your way to your room. You knew some others would be in the kitchen, and didn’t want to alert them, so you forwent slamming your door.

The tension stayed crammed into your arms as you shut the door forcefully, yet painfully slowly. Your hands hovered, shaking, inches away from the wood as you stared at it, breathing heavily.

You breathed in, in, in, gasping like water was rising about your head.

And then, everything spilled out. A tide of air left your lungs, forehead falling forward against the wood, hands dropping despondently to your sides.

Among the whirlwind your life had become, you had focussed so hard on using your powers, building them, trying to prove something. Falling in and out with Jungkook, on top of this – but he had been right all along, hadn’t he? How had you forgotten the real danger this magic brought with it?

You didn’t blame Jungkook for not wanting you around the others. Gone from your mind were all the times you had shared with him and the others, head only filled with his stare. You couldn’t shake him.

That evening, you stayed in your room, not particularly feeling hungry. Or willing to face the others, more like.

You had only winced when Hoseok knocked on your door. Why should he be the one coming to you, after what you had done to him? It should be the other way around.

For tonight, you let yourself be a coward. At least you hoped the boys wouldn’t push; they never wanted to overstep. So you stayed silent, waited after he asked if you were there without giving any response. Waited until his footsteps left again.

Jimin also came past and said goodnight to your closed door, but he didn’t stop long.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and didn’t stay long. You simply seemed to get lost between the darkness in your room and your head. At some point, you thought another set of footsteps came to stop outside your door. But no one spoke.

Somewhere along the way, you must have fallen away from reality, but even then it kept knocking. You had no way of knowing just how deep into the night it was when you startled awake, throwing the tangled covers off you to escape.

You were left alone, panting and staring into the unforgiving shadows. They did nothing to erase your nightmare.

Blue shot from your hands, missing the mark. Hoseok fell, fell, body motionless. You had scrambled back, screaming, at the sight of his bloodied and pale face. The gaping black hole where his heart should have been glared at you.

Blue surrounded you, scorching through your limbs. The stench of burning filled your nostrils as sparks filled the air.

As you writhed on the floor, a row of your friends stood watching on. They didn’t move, frowning down at you. And you couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the power that forced itself from your body, striking them one by one, black burns streaked across their skin.

Last of all, Jungkook fell at your feet.

That had woken you up alright.

Itching to move, you finally decided to give up on sleep and got to your feet, throwing on a warmer sweater. Opening the door cautiously, you found only more darkness welcomed you from the rest of the house.

Still, you knew that with 8 people in one place, meeting someone was not out of the question.

You turned away from the communal kitchen, slipping out quietly towards the staircase which you followed down. On your way, you hugged your arms around you, some ridiculous fear possessing you that your powers could break free, like in your nightmares.

They hadn’t stirred, however, your control well practised. But that didn’t stop the phantom itching, memories of the ugliness your powers held.

The pain they had wrought on you when they first emerged – the pain they must have inflicted on countless others, who had never been as lucky to tell the tale like you. Were they your powers at all, not Bolt’s? But Bolt was a hero. Maybe it was you that made these powers so perilous-

Your feet hit the cool floor of the training hall.

Stilling, you stood and stared across the vast space. Cavernous in its emptiness, it sorely missed the life it usually had when the boys trained, filling it with colour.

Not really having an aim, you slowly walked to one of the adjoining spaces where you felt more apart from the world. Away from your friends. Your limbs moved like you were still sleeping, wrapped up in your head as you were.

You crossed the threshold and sighed. Then you sat, slowly sliding down the wall beside the doorway and curling into it. Retreating.

For a while, you simply breathed in the silence.

You tried to ignore the warring images in your mind. The sudden and unpredictable night when Bolt had changed your life. Back then, this power had been nothing but pain; it had tried to kill you.

But then, you couldn’t help but think of the people who had come to you when you lay alone on a dark road, burning up in Bolt’s wake. The man who the city thought was their hero had sent you off the edge of that building, not saved you. It had been a different group of heroes that came for you.

Mind wrestling with itself, you tried to reconcile the home you had been given, the safety and family that filled it, with this ugly, gnawing worry. Your group were powerful, had nothing to fear as you stood aside from the world.

But what if they should have been looking for a threat within?

You lowered your head to your hands, fingers threading through your hair and stretching, restless from this conflict.

The power that ran through these hands…

How had you grown to love it?

Staring at the floor as this thought struck you, you felt the thoughts grind to a stop. You blinked, relaxed your hands.

With an exhale, you sat straighter, bringing your palms in front of your face.

You had grown to love your power. If you threw your panic aside, you could feel…

Nothing.

No threat, no disobedience, no burn.

These were your powers. You wouldn’t let the thoughts of Bolt chase you away from them. You were in control.

Slowly, you breathed, feeling the flame in your chest ignite like sparks you were blowing to life. In no rush, you let the embers trace their way down your arms, collect in your palms and hover. Blue twined together in the air there. It wasn’t a callous beam of lightning, not aimed at anything, or anyone. Occasionally, a tendril of static would stray from its edges.

Sitting back, finally feeling some tension ease away, you gazed into the light. Neon and shadow swirled together in a globe.

This was what your friends had given you. The ability to control what could be dangerous – could. Instead, they had made it beautiful.

Your mind strayed against your will, thinking of the one person among them who had helped you shape this the most.

“I always knew you were reckless.”

Despite his words, Jungkook’s voice wasn’t harsh. Among the silence, his voice was low, flat rather than accusatory. You hadn’t heard him arrive, but his appearance seemed to come straight from your thoughts, and as such you didn’t even flinch.

You were pulled from your reverie, however.

Blinking at your still swirling orb of blue, it took a moment to catch up with reality before you turned slightly to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at you. His face was lit in pale blue, a light frown thrown into relief by this, the only light among the blackness.

His eyes bore into yours for a moment before he diverted them to the bundle of power you held in your hands, making a foreign lick of blue dance in his irises. The reflection was jarring, and you realised just how used to his warm, golden power you were.

“Reckless?” you repeated.

You saw the moment you took back his attention, his scrutinising eyes returning to you. He stepped into the space, hands buried in his pockets as he walked steadily around you.

“Do you know how much power it takes to kill? A hell of a lot less than you have right there.”

His feet fell evenly, barely audible. It was as if he fell into a short orbit of your globe, focussed intently on its presence where it hovered, its crackling surface and the light it emanated.

Then, he was opposite you, and his eyes flicked upwards. Locked with your own over the fizzing lightning.

“You had a good enough shot at it today.”

The instant his words hit, you bit down on your tongue. But you absorbed their impact, only needing to remind yourself of the energy, harmless in your palm, and the paths your mind had already been down tonight.

“That’s not what this is about,” you spoke softly.

It seemed to startle him, and he considered you for a moment. His keen gaze didn’t waver when he finally decided to press.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not shooting it at you, am I?”

His frown deepened.

“It’s not something that’s there just to look pretty. You- you need to control it.”

“Is this not control?”

He blinked. In the blue light, you saw for the first time complete surprise in his eyes, like such a thought had never crossed his mind. Always, he seemed to be steps ahead of you, but here he was stumped, lost…

Watching his mouth grapple with the ghosts of words, his eyes searching the sphere as if it would give him the answers he could understand, you softened. Instead of preparing to push back at him, you sighed.

And explained.

“It scared me. I don’t want to hurt Hope, of course I don’t. But where will it get me if I fear these… powers?”

You were aware of Jungkook’s eyes intently trained on you, but you let your powers magnetise your gaze. Staring into them, you lost yourself in their depths again.

“This could hurt someone, you’re right. It could kill you – well, maybe not you – but someone, if I wanted right now. But… I don’t. They’re mine. And… they’re beautiful.”

You sighed your last word. Maybe in a more awake state, you would have the presence of mind not to admit this all so readily to Jungkook, of all people. But just speaking the words gave you more confidence in them. You held the light steady.

Meanwhile, Jungkook had drawn closer. He looked down at you with an odd expression, more awkward with the steeper angle now he stopped beside you.

Realising his presence, you snapped away from the hypnotic light, turning to look questioningly at him.

He pressed his lips together, before making a stunted gesture with his arm.

“Can I-”

You stared blankly. A short huff left him, his frustrated gaze tearing away from you before he tried again, fixing you with a glare, as if it was your fault he was desperately embarrassed.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. His question had caught you off-guard, in honesty, though you tried not to show it.

He sat in a hurry, as if it would shake off the previous moment. In his haste, his shoulder brushed your own, and he shifted away a moment later, though the distance was still small enough to feel his warmth.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

The ball of light you had formed continued to roil in mid-air, almost proving your earlier words. You were in control, and it made no attempt to break away, to destroy.

Slowly, you lowered your hand, the light dimming with it.

You didn’t dare turn around or make any move nearer to Jungkook, still staring into the semi-darkness. But as your light faded, you caught a motion of his hand. He had turned it over, and flexed his fingers in a jerky way, but as he moved them a couple more times it became almost delicate.

Refusing to turn your head, you kept your eyes on it nonetheless. Jungkook must not have realised you were watching, as he turned his hand over contemplatively a couple of times.

All of a sudden, he seemed to give up, letting it drop. For a moment there, you had expected a warm golden light to join the weak blue that remained of yours. Not about to leave the pair of you in total darkness, you let a cool light simmer from your palms, but they rested on your knees rather than raising to illuminate the space.

It only extended so far as to surround you and Jungkook. A spotlight in the otherwise sleeping house.

You heard Jungkook’s head hit the wall with a soft thud. You heard his breath in, the way it screamed of having something to say. Something he was breathing in the courage for.

But then he breathed out.

While your mind had settled considerably, the reminder of just who you were next to put you on edge again. You would never have envisaged sitting peacefully side by side with Jungkook, yet here you were.

If he was stewing on how to break the silence, however, you were expectant.

Another breath in, followed by a moment where it was held. You did the same, almost tempted enough to turn to him.

The air left him.

“Bolt’s powers aren’t beautiful,” he blurted out. His sharp words landed a blunt blow to the silence.

You let the impact dissipate, breathing in.

“No,” you replied, “they aren’t.”

It was certainly true for you, who had felt their impact. But there was something of that same pain in Jungkook’s voice, the way he spat out the supposed hero’s name.

Beside you, Jungkook shifted.

“How can you say that?”

His words were hard, but you sensed he wasn’t butting his head against you for an argument. It was a genuine question, a lingering curiosity behind his bull-headed disguise.

“Because my powers aren’t Bolt’s,” you said softly, “not anymore. He may be the reason I got them, ours may be the same colour… but they’re in me. That’s got to be as a big a part of it as the lightning itself. The power would be nothing without me, but that’s not true the other way around. I’m more than them.”

“Yeah, well, people don’t see it like that.”

The bitterness in Jungkook’s words surprised you. Brow creasing, you finally looked around at him. He, too, was frowning, but it was directed at the floor, his head bent.

In the meagre light, the slope of his cheeks were washed in your blue, the slant of his slightly downturned lips outlined in shadow.

“Do you?”

At last, his eyes turned to you. A few of his dishevelled strands fell into them, but they still reflected back that blue in their troubled depths.

It took him too long to form an answer, or maybe it just dragged out as you stayed stuck in his gaze.

“Of course not,” he muttered, all in a hurry.

He diverted his eyes, reminding himself of his surroundings, the fact he was staring just as much as you.

But they betrayed him. They darted back to you once, twice.

He dropped his shoulders, before resolutely turning to you once more. Perhaps he had more to say on that strange noncommittal answer? You could only wait as he inhaled again, steeling himself for the words to come.

“…did it hurt?”

What?

You hadn’t expected that.

Nor did you expect the sudden weakness underlying his tone. The kind that made him sound as scared as you had been today, rather than the affront of anger you were used to. The kind you knew you were only hearing because it was the middle of the night, alone.

You searched his gaze, trying to puzzle out his question.

“Did what hurt?” you asked carefully.

His gaze didn’t falter, almost pleading, as if he could dredge the answers just from looking into your eyes.

“Bolt.”

You inhaled shallowly. You hadn’t needed the nightmare to remind you of just how excruciating it had been, your memory could tell you easily enough. That kind of experience couldn’t be forgotten so simply.

“Yes,” you forced out, honest and flat.

In his desperation, Jungkook must have leaned closer. Why he had such a need to drink in your answer was beyond you; he had never brought this up before.

You had no idea what more you could say, and were quickly getting distracted, your mind pushed off track by the inescapable eyes locked on yours. Around them, his face shifted at your words, falling almost imperceptibly. But you were busy drowning, engulfed in the dark irises lit with your own blue light.

Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you reeling back to your surroundings, feeling like you had resurfaced, gasping, from a lake.

Refocussing, you breathed deeply, calming the powers. You had felt a small spark leap further from the contained glow in your hand.

Jungkook was hunched over, his elbows on his knees and head bowed once more, thoroughly defending his face from your sight. You had no idea where the tension that wracked his frame had come from.

There was no time granted for you to find out, however. He pushed himself up, only sparing a sideways glance for the blue radiating from your hands, before he stormed away as if he had never come.

Thank you for reading! If you liked it let me know! See you next Sunday💜💜

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[asirensrage]

Saudade - Chapter 5

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: This chapter is much longer than the others. It originally was two chapters, but one was much shorter. I considered making the larger one smaller but it didn't feel right. So, at the suggestion of a friend, I merged them. I was at a con today and found barely any Tokyo Revengers merch so I have to update to add my part to the fandom. If only to make myself feel better knowing that people are still here lol.

I hope you enjoy it. Your comments mean the world to me. Thank you all.

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

THE PAST

It’s been a week since the future Takemichi left and she misses him. Not just because he was someone to talk to, but the current Takemichi isn’t on the same level. He’s more immature and honestly? She’s beginning to wonder what Hinata even sees in him. If he wasn’t her brother, she wouldn’t be near him. 

Luckily, he seems far more involved with his own friends than her and Takara is left to her own devices. Unfortunately, she only has some acquaintances and no sports for her to distract herself with. She spends her time doing homework and regretting the way she’s stuck here. 

She doesn’t wake up back home when Takemichi returns to the future. She’s just left with a weird sense of longing and the realization that she can’t really picture what her old bedroom looked like. She spent all her free time there. She should know, shouldn’t she? It sits like lead in her stomach. 

She slips unseen through the house that has claimed her. Her parents, these parents, don’t entirely seem to care that she exists. They’ll greet her and speak to her, but sometimes she sees the ways their eyes slip off of her, like oil against water. Sometimes they are startled by her presence, as though they’ve forgotten she’s there. Whoever’s placed her in this world has done a shit job. Old resentment festers but she’s learned long ago to cleanse the wound. She leaves her house and spends her time on her rollerblades, feeling more at home when she’s speeding down the path with her own skill than she does anywhere else. 

🏍️

Takara is sixteen. 

She’s in a body that she did not grow up in, with a family she doesn’t belong to, and acutely aware that she’s alone. She wishes Takemichi did not have to return to a future that feels impossible to see. She wishes she had something to fill her time with like before so that she doesn’t actually notice how she feels. 

On the one hand, she should be glad that she has the time to explore the areas where they live, on the other, she’s bored out of her mind. She hates being bored. 

It’s with a little research that she manages to track down a sports shop. Baseball is huge here, so she grabs the basic equipment for that, and she manages to find a hockey stick so that she can at least keep up with her slapshots. The store owner also pointed her in the direction of a rink that had skate rentals. A small thing but it already feels like a relief, like she hasn’t lost everything. 

She gets about a block with the large equipment bag thrown over her shoulder when a shadow falls over her as someone steps up next to her. She glances over before scowling. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

It’s the giant from the other day. The one who said he wasn’t with the boys who hunted her down before claiming them as she made her escape. 

He grins at her and takes a drag of his cigarette. “Looked like you needed help. Thought I’d offer my services.” 

“With what? Reaching a top shelf that I don’t need anything from? Or hitting your head on the doorway on your way out?”

“Your bag,” he says, not at all put out by her attitude. “Looks bigger than you.”

“I’ve had bigger.”

His eyes seem to shine at that and she adjusts the grip on the hockey stick, ready to drop the bag and hit him if she needs to. “Let me carry it for you. You can buy me lunch to pay me back.”

She stops and stares at him. “What kind of shit deal is that?”

“One where we both win.”

“Sounds like I lose regardless.” An idea pops into her head and while it might bite her in the ass, it’ll at least entertain her for a bit. “How about this? We have a shoot-out. Whoever scores the most goals in five minutes wins.”

He steps closer. “Yeah? What do I get if I win?”

She tries not to roll her eyes. “You win and I’ll buy you that lunch.”

“And if you win?”

“You stop stalking me and leave me the fuck alone.” 

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “If I win, I want a kiss.”

She can’t stop herself from scrunching up her face at the idea. “A kiss?” She’s never kissed anyone before. She’s always been too busy. 

He laughs. “Yeah, princess. A kiss.”

She’s not sure if it’s confidence or simply the desire to wipe the expression off of his face. “Don’t call me that. And fine. You’re on.”

Hanma is a terrible loser. It’s kind of hilarious to see how frustrated he gets when he misses a shot, as though he can’t imagine being bad at something, but he makes up for it with how he praises every single one of her goals. She’d almost think he wants her to win. It sits sickly sweet in her mouth, making her nauseous. 

When she wins, because of course she does, she’s played hockey since she could balance on skates, she leans on her stick, and stares at him, feeling justifiably smug. “I win. That means you fuck off and leave me alone.”

“Oh it does, does it?”

Her eyes narrow, the tone reminding her of the way her brothers used to trick her. “That was the bet.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees. He darts forward, lips pressing against hers. She reels back and does the one thing her brothers drilled into her. She punches him. When he pulls back laughing, she adjusts her grip and swings, slamming the hockey stick up between his legs. He chokes on his laughter and she pulls back the stick. He doesn’t quite fall to his knees, but he does bend over, trying to breathe through the pain. She uses the angle and changes her grip on the hockey stick until she’s swinging it like a bat into his head. This time he falls. 

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” she snaps. 

His mouth is bloody as he laughs again and she ignores him, picking up her bag and leaving.

🏍️

“Hanagaki!” 

Takara turns automatically at the call of her name before it stuns her. There was no hesitation in acknowledging the name. 

“Hey! Hanagaki, you okay?” 

She blinks, looking up at Draken as he waves his hand in front of her face. “Yeah! Sorry,” she shakes off the feeling that she’s forgetting something and smiles. He’s standing there with his hands in his pocket but he’s not alone. She recognizes Mikey, Mitsuya and Baji standing with him. There are a couple others with them but she’s not sure who they are. She looks back at Draken. “What’s up?”

“Where are you off to?” 

“And what are you wearing?” Baji asks, gaze dropping down. 

She scowls automatically, aware of the insult. “Clothes. Why? Want some shopping tips?”

“Not from you,” he scoffs. “I was almost blinded looking at you.”

“You’re welcome to close your eyes,” she sneers before realizing that some of the others are staring at her in surprise. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I’ve had a shit week.”

“You okay?” Mitsuya asks. 

“Yeah, just had to teach some asshole the meaning of consent.” Their gazes sharpen and she even sees Mikey straighten. 

“Consent?” Draken asks. “Who? What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

Her chin juts out. “I’m fine. Like I said, I taught him the meaning of consent.” The tension eases at their obvious concern and she’s reminded oddly of facing not only her brothers but her friends as well. Her attitude fades and she shifts in place. “What are you all up to?” 

“Ken-chin was released today,” Mikey says. He smiles as he continues. “We’re going to celebrate. Come with us.” 

“I’m good, thanks.” 

“Come on,” Draken says. “Mikey says to come, you’re coming. Besides, not like I don’t have to thank you for helping us.” 

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know,” his eyes close as he grins. “Doesn’t mean I can’t thank you.” 

“What’s it going to hurt?” Baji adds, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She shoves him off just as fast. 

“Fine.” 

🏍️

She’s squished into a booth between Draken and Mitsuya. Draken has an arm over the back of the booth bench behind her and both of their thighs are pressed against hers. It’s not entirely uncomfortable but Takara is used to being squished between her brothers, especially on road trips. She lost any sense of personal space years ago. 

The boys are rambunctious enough to make the wait staff wary of approaching, at least until Draken tells them to knock it off. The two on each side of her seem to be the more controlled or calming influences of the group, which doesn’t say much for the other side made up of Baji, Mikey and Chifuyu. She was properly introduced to him and Hakkai, who was seated next to Mitsuya but dead silent any time she said something, once she agreed to join them. 

“What do you want?” 

Takara muses over the menu but nothing seems appealing or familiar. “It doesn’t matter. Get me whatever. Maybe something with meat.” She can use the protein. 

As soon as they order her curry, she regrets it. 

Takara has never really been a fan of curry or spicy food in general. She blames her ancestors…and the fact that her parents weren’t that big on expanding their culinary horizons when she was a kid. She never put much thought into it if she’s honest, aside from the way her teammates would laugh when they watch her attempt spicy food. Now she’s not looking forward to getting this dish…and having to force herself to eat some of it. She did tell them to get her anything. She wasn’t really thinking about the possibilities. 

“So tell us about yourself.”

“Hmm?” She looks up, drawn out of her thoughts, as she realizes that Draken, Mitsuya and Mikey are staring at her. “What do you want to know?”

“Where’d you learn to skate?”

“Where does anyone?” She asks, reaching over to take a sip of her drink. “The rink.”

“Where do you go to school?”

She answers without thinking and is surprised to see them all staring at her in shock. Even the others on the edge. “What?”

“You’re in high school?”

She frowns, confused at the reaction. “Aren’t you?” 

It turns out, they’re not. Most of them are in their last year of middle school and while some are starting to stress about the entrance exams, others aren’t. It doesn’t really make sense to her because while she’s sixteen, she’s born in the same year that Mikey, Draken and Mitsuya are. She just had the advantage, or disadvantage depending on who you asked, to be born in January when the school term starts in April. 

“You’re so small,” Draken says. “I can’t believe you’re older than us.” 

“I will kick your ass,” she points at him. “Don’t fucking test me.”

“Can you reach?” he teases. Her eyes narrow but she’s drawn away from responding by the arrival of the food. She looks at the dishes, wondering which one is hers and mentally trying to figure out how she’s going to get out of this. 

Until it’s placed in front of her. 

 It smells delicious. If anyone notices her hesitance, they don’t comment on it. Instead they talk over her and Takara is left to try it on her own. 

This isn’t curry. It can’t be because Takara has tried curry before and not enjoyed it. This? This is fantastic. 

“Hey…hey, Takara, you alright?” She looks up at the sound of her name. Mikey is staring at her, confused. “You’re crying.” 

She reaches up, touching her cheek. He’s right. She’s crying and the moment she realizes, she starts crying harder. She vaguely hears the boys around her start to panic, but she ignores it. Something is wrong. It’s wrong because she’s not herself and she shouldn’t like this and nothing is right. 

Someone’s arm wraps around her shoulders and she finds herself being pulled into a chest. A hand rubs her back and she hears him whisper “Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.” It’s strangely comforting, as though they’ve done it a million times. In the back of her mind, she hears Draken telling everyone to be quiet. 

When she finally feels like she can breathe, when the tears stop falling and she calms down, she pulls away. 

Mitsuya smiles softly and lets her go. “You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

He shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m used to girls crying on me. I have two little sisters. They come to me for every scrape.”

She snorts at the imagery of the big bad biker being bombarded by little girls crying. “Still, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“What was wrong?” 

“Was the food that bad?” Mikey asked, looking completely serious. It’s enough to make her laugh. The tension eases at the sound of it and while the others still keep looking at her, 

“No, I just…” She goes to slip into the well-worn excuse she knows will make them stop asking, but Draken seems to catch on before she even can. 

“You don’t have to say,” he tells her. “None of our business.” She’s not sure if he’s being polite and giving her an out, or he just doesn’t want to hear it. Either way, it saves her an excuse. 

“Hey Takara! Let me tell you about the time…” One of the boys calls out, telling a story about their friend and the last mess they got in. The boys start teasing him and he tries to explain what really happened. It’s enough to distract her from nearly throwing up when she tries to eat again. The fact that it tastes good sits uneasily in her stomach. She pushes it away, deciding not to force herself and one of the boys takes it to test and ends up eating the rest of it.  

By the time they all leave, her crying is unmentioned and the cause of it slips through her fingers. She doesn’t recall what exactly was wrong. 

🏍️

Something breaks. She’s not sure if it was the dinner or Draken getting out of the hospital or the knowledge of her fighting to teach someone consent, but she suddenly finds herself constantly in someone’s company. It’s exhausting and some days she refuses to leave her house, just to ensure they can’t bother her. Not that it’s ever stopped Mikey or Draken from just walking in. 

She’s buried in blankets and half asleep when Takemichi comes barrelling into her room. 

“Takara!”

She lifts the blankets down just enough to see him before he runs towards her and hugs her tightly. “Get off! What the fuck Takemichi?”

“Sorry! Sorry!” He pulls back but stays seated on the edge of her bed. “I just got back. Well, not right now, maybe an hour or two ago? I was in the public baths with Mikey and Draken and then there was this meeting. It’s just…so good to see you.”

That gets her attention. She sits up and faces him. “Am I dead?”

“No, but you told me to pass on a message!” 

“What?” That…sounded like something she’d do if she knew she could communicate with her past self. Watch out on her left in that last game, don’t eat the shellfish at the going away party… “What did I say?”

“You told me to tell you everything.” And he does.

It’s enough to drive her out of bed and put on her skates. She thinks best when she’s moving. 

Takara skates down the dark and empty streets, her mind running over the new things she’s learned. Takemichi tells her everything about the future including Draken being in jail because of Kisaki and Toman still being led by Mikey and Kisaki. He told her about Hinata dying in the manner she did and his promise to take over Toman to make sure it changes. The only thing he hesitated on was her future. He told her she’s alive and still involved in the gang even when he wasn’t. She told him she swore to keep him alive so he can keep his promise. 

He didn’t tell her everything. She knows because her brother is a terrible liar. He always has been. At least, she’s always known when her brothers were lying to her. They couldn’t– 

She forces her thoughts back on track. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was the point her future self made. Why was Kisaki so focused on Hinata and Takemichi? Far as either of them knew, neither of them even knew Kisaki. At least…Takemichi didn’t. Until now. 

There’s only one thing to do. She needs to talk to Hinata. 

🏍️

It’s only when she’s outside the girl’s apartment building that she realizes how late it is. It’s not like she can throw rocks at her window to get her attention. She stands there, staring at the building before it occurs how creepy she looks and she goes to sit down on a ledge so she can figure out what to do. 

She calls Takemichi, but her brother must be knocked out because he’s not answering. Muttering how useless he is under her breath, she searches her contacts for another answer. She doesn’t have Hina or even Emma, but she does have a bunch of the boys who have been following her around. Baji and Mitsuya are out. Neither of them are likely to have Hina’s number. The only one she can think of might be Emma and the only way she’s going to get her number is through her brother. 

Takara is already tired, but if she’s going to help Takemichi, she needs the info. She’s going to have to call Mikey and deal with the fact that she’s been avoiding them. She half hopes he’s asleep so she doesn’t have to listen to him whine, or that Emma’s right next to him. Still, she presses his contact and waits. 

“Yeah?”

“Mikey, it’s Takara.”

“Who? Do we have a friend named Takara?” she hears him ask someone on his side. “Think we remember one…” 

“Okay okay,” she calls out. “I’m sorry!”

“Hmm..”

“Oh my god,” she mutters to herself. “Will it help if I promise not to avoid you guys anymore?”

“Takara! I remember now!” 

“Of course you do. Look, can I have Emma’s number?” 

“Emma? What do you want with Emma?”

“I’m outside Hina’s place because I wanted to talk to her, but it’s late so I can’t go to the door and don’t have her number.” 

There’s a moment of silence before he finally responds. “Takara, do you know what time it is?”

“I’m aware, Mikey. Can I have her number? Please?” 

“Stay there.” He hangs up on her. 

“What the fuck,” she stares at the phone for a moment. Not only does she get pounced on by a time-travelling brother, but she’s pulled out of her bed because she can’t think sitting still and now she’s getting hung up on. Mentally cursing everyone who’s ever been a problem for her, including whatever higher powers dropped her into this role, Takara sits and waits. 

She considers practising learning to grind on the edge of the ledge, but considering it’s dark and she’s more than likely going to wipe out, she refrains. She doesn’t want to wake anyone up at this hour. So she sits, fiddling with her laces and using the time to double-check the wheels on her blades. 

Not even ten minutes pass when she hears the sound of a motorcycle. Takara looks up at the noise and sighs. Mikey parks the motorcycle before striding towards her. Somehow, he manages to look confident and bored all at once, as though she’s dragged him from his bed to come rescue her. 

She skates over to him, meeting him halfway. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be here alone, Takara.” 

There’s something about the way he says it. He doesn’t sound like the irritated, teasing boy she knows. He sounds like Takemichi describes him when he talks about their gang meetings. 

“You didn’t have to come, Mikey. I just needed a number.” It was unusual to see him alone. She half expected Draken to appear, irritated at Mikey leaving him behind. No one comes though. 

“You can have it, but I can’t let Takemitchy’s sister be out here alone. Where is your brother?”

“Asleep?” Takara shrugs. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“Come. Ride with me.”

“I’m busy,” Takara says, looking at him dryly. “Are you going to give me Emma’s number or not?”

“You’re not contacting Hina now. She’s asleep. Emma’s asleep. Get on my bike. I’ll give you the number and you can deal with this tomorrow. When they’re awake.”

She skates side to side, considering his words. “Give me the number and I’ll go home.” 

He stares at her for a long minute. “After.” There’s something in his eyes that warns her not to argue. It’s a rare look on him, at least that she’s seen so far. 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m wearing my blades. It’s not easy to ride with them on.”

He shrugs, “Take them off.” 

“And only wear socks on your bike?” She rolls her eyes when he just stares at her. “Fuck, fine.” He grabs her wrist and pulls her back towards his motorcycle. She lets him drag her, moving her feet only when necessary to fix her footing to make sure she doesn’t trip. She sits on his bike, leaning down and unlacing her rollerblades. She nearly topples both her and the bike over as she’s pulling one of them off. Mikey grabs the bike, keeping it steady.

Takara ties the laces together and tries not to wince as her feet quickly get cold. She hangs the rollerblades around the back of her neck, letting them rest just under her arms. It’s not going to be comfortable, but since Mikey has basically demanded she comply, he could deal with them digging into his back for all she cared. 

Mikey drives like a maniac. She thought Baji was bad in his race to make sure his friend was okay, but there’s no reason for Mikey to be speeding the way he is and weaving between cars. She’s tempted to let go, to see if she can hold herself up with her legs and just feel the wind blow past her. She almost feels free like this, like she’s not pretending to be someone else. She can forget that she’s not meant to be here. 

When he finally slows and pulls up by her house, she lets go. She sits there for a moment, trying to decide if the best choice is to just run for it in her bare socks or untie her blades and shove her feet back in. Mikey doesn’t move. 

“You gonna give me Emma’s number or what?” 

“Why do you have to talk to Hinata so bad?” He turns slightly to see her. 

“Girl stuff,” she says. It’s not like she can tell him she’s trying to stop a future where her brother keeps almost getting killed. 

He pulls out his phone and after a moment, she feels hers buzz in her pocket. “I texted it,” he says. “Don’t do this again, okay, Kara-chan?”

“Don’t call me that,” she glares at him before making her decision. “Thanks for the ride!” She awkwardly hops off the bike before running to her house, silently praying that her parents are fast asleep and none the wiser to her excursion. 

She hears Mikey drive off once she’s actually in her house and Takara does her best to silently put down her blades and creep to her bedroom. She doesn’t know why Mikey came to drive her home, or why he was so insistent about it. Especially since she has been avoiding them since she cried in front of all of them. Thankfully, no one’s told Takemichi about it, or if they have, it was the old one…not hers. She falls back on her bed and pulls out her phone, adding Emma’s number to her contacts. Whatever. She’ll deal with it later. She has more important things to worry about. 

🏍️

“Kisaki Tetta?” Hinata blinks in surprise, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, I know him.” 

Takara perks up and tries to squash the excitement she feels in possibly getting this figured out. “Oh yeah?” 

“We were in cram school together,” Hinata says. “Haven't seen him this year but he’s always been really smart. He was doing math equations that were far ahead of what we were taught.” 

That…fits with the little Takara knows of the future and the way Takemichi has yet to avoid his own fate or Hina’s. He would have to be intelligent to be able to plan the things Takemichi heard from Draken and even herself in the future. It makes this more dangerous. Takara isn’t intelligent in the same way, but she knows how to create a strategy based on the way people play, she knows how to use what she has to gain the advantage. It’s not the same as planning a play in hockey, but she’ll figure it out. She has to. 

“He doesn’t attend cram school anymore?” she asks, fidgeting with the straw of her cup.

“No,” Hinata answers. “Why do you ask? Did you meet him?” 

“Not that I know of,” Takara answers honestly. “Takemichi told me he joined Toman, that he’s a new captain.”

“So why did you ask me about him?”

Takara shrugs, leaning into the nonchalance she used to use on her brothers whenever she wanted something. “I figured I’d ask everyone I know. Someone was bound to know something. Besides, I want to know who my brother is around. Toman is alright, but you never know what might slip through the cracks.” 

“Where is Takemichi?” Hinata asks, sounding sweet. “I haven’t seen him all day.” 

Takemichi is on some sort of quest to drag Baji back to Toman. That also doesn’t make sense to Takara because she’s been around Baji and the others. They got along like a well-oiled machine, like a team that has spent days practicing together. His leaving with no explanation except that he doesn’t want to be involved anymore doesn’t make sense. It makes her regret avoiding them because clearly, she missed something important. 

“Who knows,” she says. “Probably doing something stupid with his friends.” 

Hinata giggles at that. “We’ve never really talked before,” she said. “I was a little nervous when you texted me.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re a little scary.”

Takara stares at the younger girl. “What? Really?”

Hinata smiles. “You’re really cool, especially with your skating, but you always seemed…alone. I’m glad I’m getting to know you.” 

Well, that sounds depressing. Takara isn’t sure how to take that, she’s never really been alone her entire life. She’s always been busy with her teams or her family. Now though all she really has is Takemichi and when he’s not his future self, he’s gone most of the time. 

“Me too,” she finally says, smiling back. “So…you and Kisaki are just friends?” 

Hinata looks a little surprised by the way Takara brings the conversation right back to where they started. “Yeah, we were just friends. I admired him though, he was so smart. He always seemed so shy.”

Between what she knows about him from her brother, and the way Hinata remembers him, triggers something in her memory. Takara thinks back to her brothers and the way one of their friends hung around. He was a strange one and lingered around her the way she knew he shouldn’t. She had only told her brother when he said something he shouldn’t have. Her brothers came home with bloodied fists and she never saw him again. “Do you think he ever had a crush on you?” 

“What?” Hinata laughs. “No! We were friends!” 

“Okay,” Takara says, forcing herself to laugh. She doesn’t believe it. No one murders someone repeatedly if they are just friends. At least not on his side. For a moment it occurs to her just how strange the situation is. What is her life coming to? 

“Takara?” 

She blinks back in focus, smiling at Hinata. “Sorry. It was a long night.”

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, Hinata. I’ll be fine.”

🏍️

It’s by complete accident that she runs into Baji. 

She’s skating down the street, ignoring the glares some people send her way when she nearly crashes him as he exits a store. 

“Woah!” He catches her before she falls when she tries to dodge out of the way to keep herself from injuring him. He lets go as soon as she’s standing. “Takara?”

“Oh, hey Baji,” She glances around but there’s no one else around. “How’s it going?” She shifts her feet back and forth, keeping herself standing. 

He frowns slightly but it looks a little forced. “What are you doing?”

“What?”

“I’m not part of Toman anymore. Why are you talking to me?”

“Why are you talking to me?” she snaps back automatically. “I’m not part of Toman, what the fuck do I care if you are or not.”

“Really?” he grins. “Because your brother has been demanding I return.”

“I don’t control him,” she says with a shrug. 

“So you’re not going to try to convince me to go back?” he looks like he doesn’t believe her. 

“No offence, but I have better things to do with my time.” That’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “You must have your reasons for changing teams. People usually do.” 

He looks like he doesn’t quite believe her. “You don’t care?”

“Should I?” 

“That’s her, Officer!” 

Takara looks to the side, seeing an older woman pointing towards her. The police officer standing next to her is staring towards Takara.  “Shit.” She’s been told that skating in public places is a disturbance but she’s ignored it. She can’t get in trouble if they can’t catch her. 

Baji grins at her, sharp and wide. His concern seems forgotten as he grabs her hand and pulls her as he takes off. She hears someone yell for them to stop but she lets him drag her. He knows the area better than she does, even with all her wandering. 

By the time they stop, they’re both laughing hysterically. They managed to ditch the cop but didn’t pause until the trail of people yelling after them faded and they were left alone in an alleyway off of a park. 

Once they stopped, Baji was leaning against a wall and Takara moved back and forth in place. 

“Thanks,” she says once they catch their breath. 

“Nah,” he tilts his head back and rests it against the stone. “Thank you. Been a while since I laughed like that.” 

“That’s sad.” She says it without thinking. 

“Ha!” he nods. “Yeah, it is.” He falls silent and Takara is content to wait. She’s not about to dive back into public this soon after being chased by the police. They’re likely still looking for her. “I don’t regret my choice.”

“Huh? What choice?”

“To leave Toman.” He looks over at her. “It’s for the best.”

“Okay?” Takara shrugs. She’s not here to judge him or demand he return. That’s apparently Takemichi’s job. She makes a mental note to go talk to her brother and figure out what his plan is. She was half asleep and focused on the fact that she’s still here in the future that she may have tuned him out a little…she doesn’t remember hearing about any plans except that he was going to get Baji back. 

He looks at her carefully and she lets the silence fall as he seems to weigh his options. She takes the chance to practice skating on one foot, keeping her core tight and her balance steady. 

“I’m trying to save them.”

Takara looks up, suddenly interested. “Save who?”

“My friends. All of them. I’m doing this for a reason. I have a plan.”

“Is it a good one?” she can’t help but ask.

“It’ll work,” he nods, mostly to himself. 

“That’s not what I asked,” she says, taking note of the way he’s not answering. He doesn’t respond and Takara doesn’t push. Her brother used to be the same way. Always had to do his own thing and never wanted an opinion until it blew up in his face. Not…Takemichi. Her other one. One of them. 

She stops moving. She knows their names. She does. They were some of her first words but they’re not…they’re not coming to her. It’s like they’re on the tip of her tongue but she can’t seem to grasp it. 

“-kara?” Baji steps toward her, drawn out of his planned monologue. “Hey. You okay?” It’s not the first time he’s seen her drift off in thought, face paling as tears build in her eyes. 

Her gaze snaps to him as the weight drops in her stomach at the realization that she can’t remember her brothers’ names. “I have to go.” 

She bolts. Baji runs after her, yelling for her to stop, but Takara is on wheels and moves like she was born on them. She speeds up, weaving around people with skill she doesn’t often show as she succumbs to the desire to run. 

Something is wrong. It’s so fucking wrong that she can barely breathe from the weight on her chest and the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She runs over all the names she knows, ones that fit her old life and the person she used to be, but nothing feels like it fits. None of them sound right coming from her lips and she falls to her knees, barely aware of the way her landing scrapes open the skin. She bleeds, on the pavement and in her soul. 

Takara doesn’t belong here and every moment is a reminder…except that things keep escaping her. Nothing is as bad as this. Her brothers taught her to skate, they terrorized her and cheered her on and the three of them ran circles around their parents. They are a part of her, down to the DNA they share….

She throws up, heaving the remains of her lunch as her body feels like it’s collapsing inward. She doesn’t share their DNA anymore. She’s not herself. Takara is stuck in a body that shouldn’t exist and playing a role that was cut out just for her. She doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know what happened or if there’s a reason…but she’s losing herself. She’s losing everything. 

She only moves when she hears someone shout at her and threaten to call the police. It’s automatic. Takara is only half aware of where she’s going, numb to the world as she goes through the motions to go home. She wants to go to bed. She wants to crawl in and never come out until everything returns to normal. Until she’s back where she belongs. 

There’s no car in the driveway and she silently prays that no one is home so she doesn’t have to explain why she feels like shit. She takes off her rollerblades outside the door and creeps in. She makes it as far as the living room doorway before her name is called out. Takara turns at Takemichi’s voice and stops at the sight of the stranger in her home. The boy next to Takemichi is bleach blond and covered in bandages. He looks like he had the shit beat out of him. 

Her mouth opens before she can stop herself. “What the fuck happened to you?”

The grief at the loss of a name slips to the back of her mind, forgotten as her brother introduces her to his new friend, Chifuyu. 

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[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Eighteen: Suzie, Do You Copy?

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 3,233 Warnings: fluff, some teasing, robin (yay!!) Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! Season 3 is upon us!! WE FINALLY GET ROBIN!! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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“And if your path won’t lead you home, you can never surrender,” I sang, putting on a layer of mascara. I had to take the kids, minus my brother, to the mall. 

Hawkins got a new mall built; our very first one, and it was the new hangout spot. You either shopped or you hung out, which is what I did most of the time. 

When a knock sounded on my window, I knew it was go time. After I opened my bedroom door, I walked down the hallway and to the front door. For some reason, Mom was still awake, so I asked her if I could borrow the car to go see my favorite person, which she smiled and agreed.

When the kids piled in the car, I drove straight to Hawkins new mall; Starcourt. It literally had everything; shops, a food court, - hell, even a damn movie theater.

“Liv, hurry up, we’re gonna miss the opening!” Will groaned.

“Do I detect whining coming from a Mr. Will Byers?” I asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror. “Blame Mike. His ass had us waiting for him. Plus, I’m going the speed limit.”

“We’ll miss it if you keep complaining,” Mike said.

“Oh, look,” I said, pointing to the big ass building. “We’re here.” I parked in the closest spot I could find, the kids and I piling out before we walked inside the mall.

Lucas was making fun of Mike for being at El and Hop’s house… making out with her the whole time. Gross. But I guess I couldn’t say anything. Steve and I made out half the time.

Will and I laughed at Lucas’ tactics, the latter saying, “See? Even Will and Liv think it’s funny.”

“Because it is,” we said.

“Yeah, it’s so funny that I want to spend romantic time with my girlfriend,” Mike said. “And, Liv, you can’t say anything. That’s all you and Steve do.” “Yeah, but doing nothing but making out isn’t romantic,” I said. “You have to take her out, like on a picnic or something.”

He stopped and turned to face me, giving me a look that I chuckled at.

“Okay, I know it’s hard because of Hop, but you can take her on the front porch with a couple sandwiches or something.”

When we reached the escalators, we walked down them instead of enjoying the small ride it gave, everyone exclaiming out “Hey!” as we walked around them. We walked by a few people, me giving apologies to everyone the kids bumped into, someone saying, “Watch it.”

“Yeah, watch it, nerd,” Erica said. She was sitting by some plants, a waffle cone in her hand from the ice cream shop.

“Isn’t past your bedtime?” Lucas asked.

“Isn't it time you died?” 

“Erica!” I chuckled.

“Psycho!” Lucas said.

“Butthead!” Erica retorted.

A couple more names were thrown at each other before Lucas blew a raspberry at her, Max grabbing his arm and telling him that what he did was mature.

Mike went into the ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy, walking up to the counter and ringing the bell. A girl I came to know as Robin, hollered out, “Hey, dingus, your children and girlfriend are here!” before the window doors opened up, Steve coming into view, saying, “Again? Seriously?”

Mike just rang the bell a few more times before Robin let them in the back, where we followed Mike to the back door that Steve opened up for us. The kids went out first, Steve telling them, “I swear if anyone hears about this–”, the kids replying, “We’re dead!”  before I tried to sneak by him, but failed as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said. I could hear the smile in his words.

I giggled as he walked me back into the back room of the shop, pressing my back against the wall. “Steve! I have to-” Kiss. “-get back-” Kiss. “- to the kids!”

“Later,” he breathed, diving back in for another kiss. “You have to kiss me stupid.”

I smiled, feeling his lips on my teeth before laughing.

Steve groaned, resting his head on my shoulder. “Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiv.”

“I’m sorry,” I laughed. Taking in a breath, I said, “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I’ll stop.”

He looked at me, that look of really? in his eyes. I honestly couldn’t help but laugh at his look, him walking away towards the door to the front of the store before I walked up to him, grabbing his hand and turning him around. “I’m sorry.”

Wrapping an arm around my waist, he said, “Uh-huh, sure,” before kissing me again. He pulled away when Robin called, “Hey, dingus! Customers.”

“We’ll finish this later,” he said, nose brushing mine.

“I look forward to it,” I smiled, diving in for one last kiss before he disappeared. Not even five minutes later, the power went out. I stood up and went to the door that led to the front of the store, poking my head out as Steve came walking to the switch by the door. “What happened? Is there a storm coming?”

“I don’t know,” he said, flipping the switch up and down.

I watched Robin walk closer to him, watching him for a moment. “That isn’t gonna work, dingus.”

“Oh, really?” He annoyingly flipped the switch rapidly. 

“I give you full permission to murder him,” I said, looking at Robin. Looking back at Steve, I said, “It looks like you’re jacking off.”

When he flipped the switch for on, the power came back on. Steve walked back to the ice cream buckets, saying, “Let there be light.”

“You’re lucky you’re hot as fuck,” I muttered, walking back into the back room. I picked up a book I kept back here for when I came to visit Steve… which happened to be almost every single day.

I guess I had fallen asleep because I woke up to feather-light kisses on my cheek.

“Liv,” Steve said, gently. “Come on, baby, it’s time to wake up. My shift’s over. You have to take the kids home.”

I groaned, opening my eyes. “Shit. I forgot.” I stood, placing my book back in its hiding spot before walking over to Steve at the front of the store so that he could close and lock the door that almost looked like a garage door.

The kids knew to meet me at the front of the mall, so I knew they were there. What surprised me was that Erica was standing there with them, waiting. Then it hit me; I needed to take Erica home as well.

Before I walked to my car with the kids, I kissed Steve goodbye and told him I’d be at his house later. I always dropped the car back at the house before biking to Steve’s, where I slept like a baby in his arms.

~~~

I woke up with a start and sat up in the bed, the word shit on repeat out of my mouth. Steve woke up as I threw the blankets off of me before I got out of the bed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” I swear I looked like a chicken with its head cut off as I ran around his room, opening drawers and his closet door, looking for clothes.

“What time is it?” he asked, groggily.

“Uhm… 7? I think,” I said, pulling on some shorts. I grabbed my favorite graphic tee and put it on before finding my socks and Converse, sitting on the bed to put them on. I felt Steve’s fingers under my shirt, lightly stroking the skin of my back above my shorts.

“What’s the rush?” he asked, yawning.

“I forgot I have to go with Mom today,” I said, standing up, running my fingers through my hair. “We’re picking up Dustin from that camp.”

Steve nodded, remembering what I told him earlier in the week. “Will you come see me?”

I smiled. “Of course.” Bending down, I placed my lips on his, feeling his hand on the back of my head. I squealed when he pulled me down on top of him, peppering kisses all over my face. “Steve! I have to go!”

“One more,” he said, bringing his lips to mine once again in a sweet kiss.

I pulled away, looking at him. We haven’t said those three words yet, mainly because I didn’t want to feel rushed. I do feel it, but with his track record of that four letter word, I wanted to make sure I actually felt it, and I do.

Smiling, I said, “I’ll see you later.”

He smiled back at me, repeating my words. 

I gave him one last kiss before getting off the bed once again to walk to the hallway then the staircase before going outside and getting on my bike to pedal myself home.

When I got home, I ran inside to my room for a moment, spritzing myself with my favorite perfume Steve got me for my birthday before my mom and I got in the car to go get Dustin.

Her and I talked about almost anything and everything, her main questions being about Steve.

“So,” she said. “Have you said it yet?”

I shook my head, forgetting she was driving. “No, not yet. I want to make absolutely sure.”

“Well, you have since you two were kids. What’s the holdup?”

I sighed. “His track record. The last girl he was with–”

“Nancy Wheeler,” Mom interrupted. 

“Yeah,” I breathed. “She didn’t love him, and it messed with him for a few days. I guess I’m just waiting for the right moment, the right time.”

Mom put her hand in mine, squeezing a little. “You’ve always waited for the perfect time or place to say or do anything.”

“I-is that a good thing?” I wondered.

She laughed a little. “A very good thing. When it comes to you. Now, Dusty on the other hand–”

“He’ll blurt things out without thinking, do things without thinking,” I chuckled. “But that’s what makes him our Dusty.”

“And that’s what makes you you,” she said.

I looked at her and smiled before looking at the sign for the camp Dustin had been at for the last month. Oddly enough… I missed the little shithead. I smiled big when I saw him before I got out of the car and gave him the biggest hug. “I missed you, shithead.”

“I missed you, wiseass,” he said. I could hear the smile behind his words.

Mom telling us to come on caused us to break out of our hug. He tried to go around me to get in the front seat, but I beat him to it. As he got into the backseat, he whined, “Mom, Liv won’t let me sit up front.”

“Okay, first of all,” I said, turning to face him. “Every single time we’re both with Steve, you always sit in the front. On the way to drop your ass off at camp-”

“Livvie,” Mom said, driving back towards Hawkins.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “You got to sit in the front. So it’s my turn. You can sit up front when we leave again.”

“I’m gonna try and hang out with the party today,” Dustin said. 

I groaned, turning and resting the back of my head against the headrest.

“He’ll understand,” Mom said.

“I know,” I dragged. “He was asking me about Dustin the other day on the phone.”

It was quiet for a moment before I heard Dustin say, “This is Gold Leader, returning to base. Do you copy? Over.” A few seconds later, he repeated his words. Since no one answered him a second time, I could tell he was frustrated when he repeated it a third time. No answer, so he proceeded to say, “I repeat: This is goddamn Gold Leader–”

“Dusty!” Mom and I exclaimed.

“What?”

“Relax, for goodness sake,” I said.

“Liv, I’m in range, they should be answering.”

“You’ve been away a whole month, honeybun,” Mom said. “Maybe they just… forgot.”

Tension rose in the car as Mom continued to drive us back home. When she pulled in the driveway, she parked the car under the awning. Dustin made his way inside the house as soon as Mom turned off the car, his duffle bag in his hand.

I went straight to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, drinking about half of it before hearing Dustin say, “Liv, are you seeing this?”

Smiling to myself, I set the glass in the sink, rim side down before walking into the living room, seeing Dustin knelt beside his toys. Feeling hands on my arms and shoulders, I tried not to laugh as I counted from three on my fingers, five out of the six kids blowing their noisemakers.

I laughed as Dustin screamed and turned around, spraying something in Lucas’ eyes causing him to scream as well from the pain. “Dustin, stop!” I laughed. Grabbing Lucas’ shoulder, I led him into the kitchen. “Flush your eyes out.”

Max came in after us, turning on the water and sticking his eyes under the faucet.

I heard my phone ringing, so I ran to my room to answer it. “Hello?” “There’s that voice I adore so much.”

I smiled, laying on my back on my bed. “Steve,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I am,” he said. “But considering it’s only 10 o’clock, no one really comes in for ice cream this early.”

“Not even for some USS Butterscotch?” I asked, almost seductively.

He chuckled on the other end. “Not even for that. Hey, are you coming up here today?”

“Yes. You think I’m gonna miss you flirting with other girls just to get a sale?”

“I can’t believe you’re okay with that.”

“Well, as long as you don’t leave me for one of those other girls, I have no problem with it,” I smiled. I really did trust him. They really didn’t flirt back with him, which was honestly shocking.

“Dingus! Counter!” I heard Robin say. Steve sighed before saying, “I gotta go. But I'll see you two later?”

“Just me. Dustin wants to hang with the party today since he just got back. Not sure when I’ll bring him up.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later then.”

I giggled. “Sure. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone, smiling to myself. I was so incredibly happy with Steve. I just hoped nothing would mess it up. I ran out of my room when I heard the word girlfriend come out of Dustin’s mouth.

Popping my head in his room, Will, Mike, El and myself all exclaimed, “Girlfriend?”

 ~~~

After Dustin had told us about his girlfriend, whose name was Suzie with a Z from Utah, I got on my bike and rode to the mall, needing to tell Robin about this new piece of information. She didn’t know Dustin all that well, so she wouldn’t judge… or really care. Steve, on the other hand, needed to hear this piece of information from Dustin himself.

I ran into the mall, running down the escalators and straight into Scoops Ahoy, where I ran past Steve with a customer. Robin was in the back, so I quickly rushed out my words, out of breath. 

She had her board in her hand, giving me a look that said I really don’t care.

Sighing, I said, “I needed to get this piece of information off my chest.”

She opened the window, the back of Steve’s head coming into view. I watched him scoop some ice cream on a cone before handing it to the customer, saying, “Alright, one scoop of chocolate, that’s a buck twenty-five. Anything else?”

The customer handed him some bills before he asked, “Ooh, Purdue. Fancy.”

“Yeah, I’m excited.”

He messed with the register as he said, “Yeah, ya’know, I considered it, Purdue, but then I was like, ya’know what? I-I really think I need some real-life experience, ya’know, before I hit college, see what it feels like.”

I facepalmed before looking at Robin, asking, “Why am I with him again?”

“Kinda like, uhh, I don’t know, see what it’s like to earn a working-man’s wage, ya’know? Uhh…” The register beeping distracted him for a second before he said, “I think that’s, like, really important.”

“Yeah, totally,” the customer said.

“Yeah, anyway, this was, like, so fun,” Steve said, almost throwing the girl's change back at her. “This is… my first day here,” he said, as the girl and her friend walked away.

“Aaaand another one bites the dust,” Robin said.

Steve turned around to face as she handed me her marker.

I looked at the board, counting the tallies as I marked one and said, “You are oh for six, Popeye.”

“Yeah, babe, I can count,” Steve said.

“You know that means you suck,” Robin said.

“Yep, I can read, too, but that doesn’t matter ‘cause I have my beautiful girlfriend right here,” he said, holding his hands out towards me.

“You can read?” I asked, feigning shock. “Since when?”

“Okay, you know what,” he said. I giggled before he added, “It’s this stupid hat. I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature.”

“Your heart?” I said, reaching over the counter to press my fingertips to where his heart laid beneath his chest.

He looked at me with a deadpan look. “My hair, wiseass.”

“Company policy really blows, doesn’t it? I mean, you don’t want your customers to eat Faberge with her USS Butterscotch.”

“Haven’t you considered… telling the truth?” Robin asked.

“Oh, you mean, that I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?” Steve said.

“Hey now,” I said. “Future is standing right here.”

“Hey, twelve o’clock,” Robin said, pointing behind Steve.

He turned, saying, “Oh, shit,” before turning back to face me, saying, “Gotta flirt.” He turned to Robin and said, “You know what?” before tossing his hat off in my direction. I caught it and placed it on my own head as he said, “Screw company policy.” 

“Oh, my god,” Robin and I said. “You’re a whole new man.”

Steve backed away saying, “Right? Ooh,” before turning around and yelling at the customers. “Ahoy, ladies! I didn’t see you there. Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Kill me,” I whispered. “Kill me now.”

“Can I get you guys a little taste of the Cherries Jubilee? No? Anybody? Banana Boat? Four people, four spoons?”

“Give me the marker,” I said to Robin.

“You still have it, dingette,” she said.

I looked down at my hand, the marker, in fact, still there. I walked over to the board, putting another tally on it before capping the writing utensil and going over to where my book was, grabbing it and sitting on the corner of the counter to lean back against the wall to begin reading.

Once Steve’s shift was over - like, always when I biked - we loaded my bike in the trunk of his car, or what would fit, and drove back to his house, where we took our showers, got dressed in our pajamas and fell asleep, teasing each other about his antics at Scoops Ahoy.

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

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~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note:

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~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

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Posted on February 26, 2024

[sweetlyskz]

For Better or For Worse

Chapter Four: Lonely

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Overview: you weren’t thrilled to be moving in with bangtan but you learned to come to terms with it. Your father however did not. When truths come to light and secrets are revealed, will you switch sides or simply exclude yourself from the situation altogether?

Genre: Mafia Au, Strangers to lovers, yandere Au

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Everyone had left for work, leaving you in this half empty mansion all by yourself. Well- they left a couple of guards around the house but they're for protection, not company.

Ever since Taehyung painted with you in the backyard, you've had a little more courage getting out of bed. You had a little more hope that things would turn around, that things would get better. But there is one thing that bothers you.

No one is ever home.

You thought living with seven guys would be terrible, that part is true, but another part of you thought that living with them would keep you from going insane. They went through all this trouble to get you, and now that you're here none of them will spend time with you. Even Tae has been distant after painting together.

This house was way too big for just one person to be in it all the time. Even with all of the guards around it still feels empty, lonely. There's a whole other side of this house you haven't even seen yet. What's over there? you wonder.

Walking through the hallway of the other side of the house made you feel nervous, like you weren't supposed to be there. But the mysteriousness of it all was calling you, begging you. You turned a corner, face to face with a door, painted black with a do not enter sticker on it. It was speaking to you. Come closer, grab the door knob, please. This door was made just for you. So you followed the doors orders.

But the door was locked. Oh well, you thought. Maybe it was a sign to go back to your room, curl up in a ball, and wallow in your self-pity.

“What are you doing over here?” You heard a loud voice question from down the hall. “The bosses gave strict orders for you to stay on the left side of the mansion. Let's go.

You rolled your eyes. “So, what you are saying is that you’re a worthless prick who does whatever any man tells him to. Got it.”

After that stunt, best believe you went to your room in haste.

All of the secrets, all of the lies. It’s not fair. They know everything about you and you know nothing about them. At least your father was transparent. He didn’t keep secrets (for the most part). There was no hiding guns, private meetings, or secret business agreements back home.

Home. You miss that. Having a place to call home, somewhere to feel safe and comfortable. They had each other. They seem happy together, so why do they need you? To gain leverage on your father? To take Seoul territory for themselves? The darkness started to mess with your head. They don’t need you. They don’t and neither does your father. If you were out of the picture, so much would be better.

A couple knocks to your bedroom door had snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come in!”

The guard from the other side of the house walked in. Immediately, you backed up and pulled the knife from your end table. He put his hands up in defense.

“I’m not here to hurt you ma'am”, He announced. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. Please don’t tell my bosses.”

“Tell them what exactly? That I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to and a guard put me back in my place?” You raised your eyebrows, putting the knife back down on your nightstand. “Don’t worry. I’m taking that one to the grave.”

He smiled. “Thank you. Don’t take this the wrong way but I thought you were gonna be–”

“Mean, heartless, and cruel?”

“Something like that”, he laughed. “You’re more… down to earth, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess four years of college will do that to you”, you blushed. His smile turned into what looked like shock.

“Your family allowed you to go to college? That’s a new one”, He joked.

You frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?” He threw his hands up in defense again.

“N-nothing I j-just meant that with you being the heir to one of the most prominent gang leaders in Korea… I mean if i had a daughter in that situation I would keep her close… maam.”

You giggle, smiling appearing back on his face easing the guards worries. “It’s Yn… What’s your name? I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

“Christopher, but just call me chris.”

“Okay, Chris…” he laughed, and you don’t know why, but butterflies swarmed your stomach. “You can return to your duties, your bosses will be back any minute.”

He nodded head towards your bedroom door, hand on the door knob.

“Thank you”, you blurted before he left. He turned his head.

“For what?” He asked.

“For making me feel less alone.”

UPDATED***

@ratherbefangirling @forpunishers @amara-mars @idk179634 @emu007 @m1sss1mp @mageprincess7 @fluffy-canada-pancakes @inlovewithallmusic @bratbxbyx @kaiwaialiki1210 @queen-in-the-shadows @exfolitae @scuzmunkie

The ones in pink i can’t tag

[saralovesyouu]

“Come back to me, I’ll wait for you.”

Devastated and exhausted, you were still mourning losing Mitsuba a second time. You refused to get out of bed, and only did when Teru asked you to because your grades were a mess. Kou decided to show you the photos Mitsuba had took before. The incident. You tried spending most of your time with Yokoo and Satou, who didn’t really know why you were upset but still tried to comfort you. After the you did your part of helping them get rid of the hands, you thought you were done with supernaturals for the day. But when Kou dragged you off saying Yashiro had gone missing, and you needed to enter some boundary and he wanted you there. You kind of had to tag along. But unexpectedly, you find someone there.

Warnings: Cursing, reader feeling like shit (‘m sorry about that), comforting from Yokoo and Satou, Kou also sorta feeling like shit, your aunt trying to help you out of bed but still keep you safe, some angst again, etc,.

(A/N) : Last chapter of Act I!! Hope you enjoy it. I’ve been feeling like absolute shit these past few days so writing this to distract myself has made me feel so much better. I’m pretty sure this is proofread but if there’s anything wrong with it lmk!!

Prev. << Next end of Act I

You couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed, not for anything. Not even after the countless times Yokoo and Satou begged you to come, not after Yashiro came over to try and get you up, not even after your aunt talked to you about it.

You just couldn’t.

You’d spent more nights crying than you could ever count, and kept thinking back to that moment. The squelching noise, that scream. It all haunted you like there was no tomorrow.

Your aunt had to bring you in food, and make sure you actually ate it. She sat with you while you cried about it, and she hugged you through it. She even called in sick from work to stay at home just for a day to comfort you.

“Shhh.. hey it’s okay.” She tried to reassure for the nth time this day.

You didn’t seem to be getting better.

“It’s not okay! There should’ve been something I could’ve done! Something I didn’t do.” You cried into your pillow, eyes red and puffy from all your tears.

She pursed her lips, not knowing what to do to comfort you. Nothing seemed to help. All she could do was make sure you ate and drink a little water. And of course make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, she was still a bit paranoid from what happened.

Out of no where, there was a knock on the door.

“Ah.. I’ll go get it.” She said, giving you one last pitiful glance before heading downstairs.

“Hey is (Y/N) here?” You heard someone say.

“Yeah she’s upstairs in her room.” Your aunt replied.

“Okay thank you.” They answered.

You heard footsteps, and groaned.

“Look Yokoo, I already said I don’t want to get up—“

“It’s not Yokoo.” Teru chuckled.

He walked over to your bed and sat with you.

“You doing okay? You and Kou both seem really out of it.” He asked, moving his hand to rub soothing circles in your back.

“No.” Was all you could answer, knowing how he felt about spirits you knew you probably shouldn’t tell him why.

“Listen, you need to come back to school. Your grades are plummeting so bad right now, and your friends miss you a lot.” Teru explained, making you lightly chuckle.

“Great, thanks so much for adding more stress! I thought it was impossible but somehow you did.” You answered sarcastically with a sigh.

He only playfully rolled his eyes, “Look, if it helps anything—I’ll help you with your missing work.”

“Just please come back to school? We all miss you a lot. And I think both you and Kou could use some support.” He pleaded, his pretty blue eyes sparkled with determination to get you out of bed.

You groaned, falling back onto your bed.

“I don’t know..” you mumbled.

“I won’t try to exorcise Hanako for..” he paused “a few days.”

You snorted, shaking your head with a fond smile.

“Deal.”

He smiled.

“Okay. It’s only 9:20, so you still have time to get to school. Even if it’s late, don’t worry I’ll excuse you.” He assured, “so get ready and I’ll walk you to school.”

You sighed as you got out of bed, and he went to wait downstairs for you.

You got dressed, and went into the bathroom to wash your face and do the rest of your skincare routine so you didn’t look like you’d been crying so much, and after you were satisfied that you didn’t look like a total mess as bad, you walked downstairs to find Teru.

He was sitting on the couch, just scrolling around on his phone. You went to go out on your shoes, and swung your backpack over your shoulder. He turned his phone off and stood up.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

.

.

Teru walked you into the middle school divison, and quickly took you with him to the student council room.

“Hang on, wait one second let me just do something real quick.” He hummed, unlocking his computer and opened what seemed to be an attendance sheet and marked your name off as ‘excused tardy’.

“Okay, ‘m gonna go drop you off at class and tell the teacher that you were late cause of my fault.” He explained, already leading you towards your second period class.

He opened the door for you and allowed you in, and went to go whisper something to the teacher. Yokoo looked at you excitedly, and Satou smiled upon seeing you. You didn’t see Kou in his seat, so you assumed he was out with Hanako and Yashiro.

“What made you feel like getting up out of bed?” Yokoo asked curiously.

“Are you hungry? I have some sweets with me.” Satou asked, digging around in his backpack to look for said sweets.

“Teru dragged me out of bed.” You exaggerated with a sigh, leaning against Yokoo dramatically.

Satou just shook his head with a smile, and Yokoo played along pretending to catch you.

“Well did you sleep good at least?” Yokoo asked.

You paused for a moment.

“..Definitely.”

“Liar.” Satou sighed “Here, have some.” He said, offering you some of his sweets.

You took a few, thanking Satou.

“You seemed pretty down enough to not come to school for a few days.. you hadn’t been that down since Mitsuba—“ Yokoo stopped himself.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He winced apologetically, realizing what he just brought up.

You pursed your lips, but you couldn’t get mad at Yokoo. You knew he and Satou were only worried and meant no harm.

“It’s fine, but can someone catch me up on what we’re learning? I’m a little lost.” You chuckled nervously, trying lighten up the mood—trying to forget about Mitsuba.

“Yeah, no problem!” Yokoo chirped.

Yokoo and Satou explained the lesson for you, letting you copy down their notes so you wouldn’t fall too behind. You groaned as you leaned back in your seat, already hating how much you missed in your absence.

“Where’s Kou by the way?” You asked, sitting back up after a few more moments.

“Oh him? All he said is he’d be busy, I don’t think he’s been in class at all.” Satou hummed.

“You should probably go see him, he didn’t look too good.” Yokoo suggested, kicking his feet lightly.

“I will after class.”

.

.

The bell had long since rung, and kids rushed out to their next class. Yokoo and Satou had said their goodbyes and told you they’d see you at lunch, so you were trying to get your stuff altogether.

“Don’t think of running off with those cockroaches.” Teru sighed as he waited by the door for you.

You jumped a bit, not really expecting him to wait for you after class.

“They aren’t cockroaches..” you mumbled, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and he gave you a look that said ‘are you sure about that?’.

You sighed, “Okay, maybe some are. But they aren’t all.” you tried to explain.

You paused, biting your lip a bit “But I’m not gonna do anything having to do with the supernatural anytime soon, so I won’t run off.”

Teru gave you a satisfied smile.

“Why are you even here? Are you going to make sure I don’t skip off to Hanako and the others or?” You trailed off.

“No,” Teru denied “I was actually here to pick you up.”

“I talked to the teachers and let them know you’d be with me for the rest of the day,” he hummed.

“Working on your missing assignments.”

You groaned as you made your way towards the door, looking at Teru with pleading eyes as if it would convince him to just let you go with the others. He smiled and shook his head fondly, leading you towards the student council room.

“Oh and by the way,” he said opening the door for you “I let Kou know you’re here so I’m sure he’ll stop by soon.”

“Soon like now?” Kou asked as he entered the student council room.

“I thought you’d stop by later but yeah, soon.” Teru confirmed with a hum.

“Can I borrow (Y/N)?” Kou asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“For what?” Teru asked.

“Something.” Was all Kou managed to mutter.

“No, sorry. After she finishes at least half of this work,” Teru emphasized, referring to the small stack of packets and papers that you thought to be your missing assignments “then you can take her for a bit.”

You groaned, flopping down on the seat in front of Teri’s desk.

“So mean.” Kou mumbled with a pout, walking out.

“So,” Teru cleared his throat, dropping a small stack of papers in front of you “let’s get started.”

You pouted with a whine, letting your head fall forward and hitting the desk in frustration.

.

.

The bell had rung a fourth time since you’ve gotten there, and it was now time for lunch.

“Well, your a little bit close to halfway done.” Teru mumbled holding up a pinch of the paperwork, holding it up to examine it.

Kou burst through the door, swinging it open.

“It’s lunch time now, and I’m pretty sure (Y/N)’s hungry.” Kou said, trying to indirectly hint if it was okay to borrow you now.

“Go ahead but be back right after.” Teru instructed, and you just pouted with a nod.

“Great,” Kou mumbled, grabbing hold of your wrist “will definitely—“ he sprinted out with you “not.”

Kou laughed a bit, but when he noticed you didn’t seem to even smile his expression dropped.

He came to a stop, at the staircase leading up to the roof, sitting down on a bench nearby.

“You doing okay?” Kou asked.

“Not really.” You muttered, sitting by him.

“Well I have something to show you.” Kou smiled, bringing something from his backpack’s front pocket.

He took it out gingerly, as if it was the most fragilest of glass and would break with even the slightest wrong look.

They were Mitsuba’s developed pictures.

“I had them printed out as soon as I could..” he whispered, though he didn’t know why if it was just the two of you “I already looked at them last night, but—“ his voice cracked a bit as he chuckled lightly “I thought you might want to see them too.”

He carefully handed the small stack of photos to you, and you—just as carefully—took them.

There were many pictures.

Some were meant to be funny, and others were genuinely beautiful.

Like when Kou got attacked by the mother cat when he tried grabbing one of it’s kitten’s. Or when Mitsuba took that photo of Kou while he was standing on his shoulders.

There were also some like the birds nest, and of some he took while in the school garden. But the one that made you tear up—

Was the one he took of you and Kou.

You grit your teeth in frustration, in anger—thinking back to that moment.

“I’ll make that asshole pay one way or another.” You say through a choked out sob.

Kou looked at you with a solemn face, pursing his lips before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder “And I’ll be there to help you when you do.”

You looked at him, and he looked at you. And for the first time since you both had met, you didn’t laugh at the eye contact. Instead, your eyes welled up with regretful tears, tears of grievance at its finest.

“Oh, there you two are!” Yokoo exclaimed gleefully, practically skipping towards you both as Satou trailed behind him.

“What’re you two weirdo’s doing?” Satou joked, sitting beside you as Yokoo sat on the other side of Kou.

Yokoo shot him a glare after realizing you and Kou were on the verge of tears, and Satou immediately took the hint that now wasn’t the time for that.

“Wanna tell us what’s going on?” Satou finally said after a few moments of silence.

Yokoo pursed his lips when he got no answer from either of you, so he spoke up too.

“Look, whatever you both are going through. You can tell us, you know that right?” Yokoo asked, but continued after still the both of you didn’t answer “Just know we’re here for you. Whatever you guys are going through, we’ll get through it altogether.” he looked over at Satou “Right, Satou?”

“Yeah of course. We’re all friends, and as friends we have to look out for each other.” Satou agreed with a hum.

There was a few more seconds of silence before anyone spoke again.

“You ever know that feeling…” you finally managed to croak out after a while longer “when you thought you finally found something you lost a long while ago, someon—“ you stopped yourself before continuing “something very special to you, and then for someone to just. Snatch it out of your hands?”

Kou lightly chuckled, but it came out sadder than he intended “And when you actually got to see another side of a person you just met, and got to know them better—only for them to disappear the next second?”

Satou and Yokoo exchanged glances, as if they were trying to communicate with each other to see what you guys meant by that. But they found themselves empty minded.

“I don’t necessarily understand,” Yokoo started, already hugging Kou to provide some sort of comfort “but I know whatever it is. It’s really tough for you to be feeling like this.”

“Yeah,” Satou confirmed, hugging you too, connecting with Yokoo to form a group hug “we’re your friends. And as your friends we wanna tell you that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

And just then, you broke down in tears, babbling about how you lost someone so special to you a second time and this time you’ll never get them back. Kou followed soon after, except he just silently cried.

“Shhh.. there, there.” Yokoo whispered “Let it all out.”

The two boys hugged you both as you cried, comforting you in silence.

“God you guys are the best.” You hiccuped with a small chuckle that came out more as a sob.

Satou smiled, and Yokoo just replied “We know.”

.

.

After a while longer, the bell rang again. You, Satou, Kou, and Yokoo had been talking, the two mostly trying to distract you guys from crying—trying to get a smile out of you.

From around the corner, Teru came and you groaned.

“C’mon, it’s time to get back to your missing work.” Teru hummed, leaning against the wall as he waited for you to get up.

You pouted, but got up and said your goodbyes.

“You didn’t actually eat,” Teru began as you started walking back to the student council room “did you?”

And as if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you flushed out of embarrassment. Teru sighed, turning in a different direction.

“Let’s get you something to eat.. I think I might have a spare lunch in the office.” Teru explained.

And he did, luckily for you. After taking one bite, you almost immediately recognized it as Kou’s cooking—and practically gobbled up the rest of it.

“Woah, slow down your going to end up choking.” Teru laughed.

“But it’s Kou’s cooking!” You pouted, taking another bite “You could never.”

“Okay that was ONE time.” Teru groaned, remembering how he nearly burnt down their kitchen.

“Yeah, that ‘ONE’ time was a near death experience for me.” You sighed dramatically, making Teru smile.

“It’s good to see your somewhat better now.” He hummed.

“What do you mean?” You asked, taking one last bite of the delicious lunch Kou prepared.

“I mean, your not as gloomy right now as you were earlier.” He smiled, ruffling your hair.

You swatted his hands away from your hair, “Must’ve been the magic of Kou’s cooking.”

“Must’ve.” Teru agreed, “Now that I know you won’t be complaining about an empty stomach,” he dropped the rest of your missing assignments in front of you “we can finish this.”

“So mean to me.”

.

.

For the next few days you tried to get over it. But I mean, you couldn’t, really. If you thought losing someone the first time was hard, imagine losing them a second time. Yokoo and Satou tried to help too, they kept you busy, and Yokoo even found out some way to let you in his soccer practice to ‘blow off some steam’ as he put it.

“God, I don’t understand how you’re able to do this for what?” You asked, taking a sip from the water bottle Yokoo had given you, to which he replied “About an hour and a half.”

“I can’t even last ten minutes.” You chuckled lightly.

“But you’re distracted, right?” He asked, gently nudging you with his shoulder.

You smiled, “I am actually.”

He smiled right back, “Then that’s all that matters.”

“Now c’mon, let’s go back to practice—“ Yokoo got up and beckoned you towards him, when Kou came along “Sorry Yokoo but I REALLY need to borrow. (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay, see you later then (Y/N).” Yokoo exclaimed as he ran back to the rest of his teammates.

“See ya!” You shouted after him.

“What is it?” You asked, turning around to Kou.

“There’s a bunch of hands, just popping around everywhere.” Kou explained “Hanako suggested we play with them so they’ll go away, so far it’s worked.”

“What is that have to do with me?” You sighed.

Kou gave you a playfully glare, rolling his eyes fondly.

“We could use the extra hands.” He hummed, making you chuckle a bit.

“Don’t you already have a lot?” You joked. “Need more hands to get rid of the extra hands.” You snorted.

“Well will you help?” Kou asked, he paused before adding “I know you’re trying to take a break from anything supernatural right now but we could use the help.”

You thought about it for a second, but gave in when you saw the pleading look in his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, making Kou cheer.

.

.

“That should be the last of them!” Hanako exclaimed, jumping around in the air excitedly.

“Whew.” You say, slumping against one of the bathroom stall doors.

Out of no where, a hand appeared from the bathroom mirror, and Yashiro approached it.

“Just one left!” Yashiro informed, looking back at it.

“That actually wore me out..” Hanako whined, making you chuckle “one of those guys hit me.”

You ‘coughed’, “Sounds like a major skill issue.” which earned you a playful glare from Hanako.

“Most of the pictures are all cleaned up too.” Kou confirmed, flipping through the yearbook.

“Wait..” Kou paused “now that I look at it.. you’re wearing a different uniform in this picture.”

“That’s from last year!” Yashiro chirped, looking over Kou’s shoulder to see better “When I was in middle school.”

“Cool!” Kou exclaimed.

“But wow,” he then continued “these are really good pictures.”

“Yeah! We had a kid from the photography club take them,” Yashiro hummed “I’m pretty sure his name should be on the last page.”

You and Kou gave each other a hesitant look, and you walked over to check too. And there it was.

Mitsuba Sousuke.

Out of no where, the hand from the mirror grabbed Yashiro’s wrist, and she hummed “What is it?”

“Have you decided what you want to pl—“ the hand cut her off, a mouth morphed onto its figure.

“Come to this side.”

It began to drag her inside the mirror.

“Yashiro!” Both Hanako and Kou panicked.

“Hanako!” Yashiro managed to yelp out.

Said ghost boy quickly got up “Grab my—“ but it was too late, his fingers just barely skimmed hers as she was sucked into the mirror like some type of portal.

“She’s…” Kou paused.

“gone.” I mumbled, and as if on cue—a droplet of water fell from the sink faucet.

Panicked, Kou got up and shouted “I’m coming Yashiro!” As he tried to force himself through the mirror.

“Kid! Stop it kid! Bad kid!” Hanako yelled, grabbing Kou from under his arms to pull him away from the mirror, making you giggle a bit at the way Hanako was referring to Kou as ‘kid’ “Don’t break the mirror!”

“That’s a boundary..” Hanako began to explain “specifically number 3’s”

“School mystery number three?” Kou asked.

“Yes.” Hanako muttered in agreement.

“I mean there’s a really only one supernatural mirror leading to this place—“ Hanako got interrupted.

“The hell of mirrors, right?” You asked “I don’t know how I know that but I do.”

“Yeah, so it has to be this one.” Hanako informed before sighing “I would like to go with her immediately but..” he paused.

“To put it simply, when you go into number 3’s boundary it attacks you.. with things you don’t want to see. Things you’re afraid of.” He looked at you both before continuing “In other words, the strength of the boundary changes based on who’s inside. If I’m not careful, I could make it stronger just by going I’m there.”

But you and Kou weren’t really paying attention, you were both looking at the yearbook Mitsuba had taken pictures for.

“Hey have you two been listening to me at all?” Hanako whined, grabbing onto your shoulders.

In a panic, Kou shut the book at faced him “You were telling us about how filthy your mind is sir!”

That alone made you burst into laughter as Hanako stared in disbelief, then muttered “Yeah well.. I won’t deny that.”

“We have to figure out what to do and fast.” Kou sighed, you felt bad seeing him look so worried for Yashiro’s safety.

“Yeah.” Hanako mumbled.

“Because number 3’s approach is most likely going to depend on what Yashiro is afraid of.” You mumbled, earning a shocked glance from Hanako which turned into a smirk.

“Hey you’re a quick learner aren’t you?” He teased “You caught on faster than Mr. Exorcist here.”

“I know you said you didn’t want anything to do with the supernatural or ghosts for a while, but I think Mr. Tsuchigomori might know something.” Hanako rambled.

“So can you please help?” They asked.

“Please?” Kou begged “For your favorite exorcist.”

“And your favorite apparition.” Hanako added with a sly grin.

“Who said you two were my favorites?” You asked sarcastically, but still smiled.

“Alright fine, but if he doesn’t know something I won’t be helping out.” You finally gave in.

Hanako and Kou both cheered, jumping around like children anxious to go trick-or-treating on Halloween.

.

.

Yashiro’s yelp seemed to echo aimlessly around the dimly lit room, hands began to sprout from the floor. She winced as she was met with something, something wet.

“Water!” She panicked, scrambling to her feet.

Little scale-like pieces began to emerge on her soft skin as she went on to see where she was at, or more so who’s boundary she was in.

Thump, thump, thump.

Footsteps? She thought, swiftly turning her head in panic that something dangerous might’ve been lingering in the dark.

“Hello?” she called, trying to see what she could in the dark room.

She saw a figure, one she thought was feminine, but upon closer examination she found it was a boy. More so, a middle school boy. His eyes looked a bit sunken, as the hands surrounded him. He tilted his head up, to look at her.

“Who are you?” She asked, tilting her head as well to get a better view of him.

Yashiro had a million questions running through her head, who was this boy? Was he a ghost? What’s he doing here? She was dragged out of her trance when said boy was towering over her.

Now that he was closer, Yashiro realized how he looked and a blush covered her face. His rosy eyes startled silently at her, before speaking up.

“You..” he called.

“Yes?” Yashiro panicked, standing up straight.

The boy looked left, then right, before sighing. His once innocent look was replaced with a taunting smirk.

“..have pretty fat ankles, huh?”

Yashiro froze in place, a bit dumbfounded that someone so adorable would say something so vulgar.

The boy sighed, crossing his arms.

“Aww, I thought someone was finally here to help me, but it’s just some horseradish..”

“I-I’m not a horseradish!” Yashiro retorted defensively with a pout.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Mitsuba sighed.

Yashiro kept asking questions, and Mitsuba didn’t have any intention to answer much or any of them, so he walked to the door at the end of the corridor and opened it.

He then walked over to Yashiro and grabbed her by the little accessories on her belt. “This way.” He said.

“This is one of the boundary’s of the seven mysteries..” he explained after a while “the hell of mirrors.”

“Or..” he paused, stopping in his tracks to look at Yashiro with an unsure look “I guess that’s it’s name.”

“But that’s all I know.”

Yashiro looked around in amazement, everywhere she turned there were mirrors of different shapes, sizes, colors, and designs. But there was one thing they all had in common.

They all had an eerie feeling to it, it sent shivers down Yashiro’s spine.

“There’re mirrors.. everywhere.” She mumbled in awe.

“Yeah, I can see that Ms. Obvious.” Mitsuba sighed, playfully rolling his eyes.

But Yashiro wasn’t paying enough attention to care, she was too busy thinking.

“I’m Mitsuba.”

Yashiro made a small ‘huh?’ noise before turning to look at him.

“I’m stuck here and I have no idea to get out of this mess.” He complained, slumping down against the railings.

“Mitsuba? You’re..” she paused, eyeing him curiously “from the middle school division, right?”

“Are you a ghost? And..” she paused to look at him “have we met somewhere?”

“I..” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat “don’t know.”

“Who cares? None of that matters now anyways.” He sighed, his rosy eyes flinched a bit, as if maybe trying to hold back tears.

“I guess we’ll have to get out of this place first! But..” she paused “why did you bring me here?”

Mitsuba didn’t say anything for a moment or two, clearing his throat and pointing at the hands still sprouting from the floor.

“Well I wanted someone who could help me,” he explained “so I asked them to find someone for me.”

The hands excitedly exclaimed a small “yeah!” popping around enthusiastically.

“Are they friends of yours, Mitsuba?” Yashiro asked sweetly, bending down to shake their hands.

Mitsuba scoffed with an offended expression.

“Are you suggesting I’m friends with my right hand??” He shouted “Would you please not be so vulgar!”

“I didn’t say they were right hands..” Yashiro mumbled, looking over at a few left hands.

“Besides..” Mitsuba sighed “the only friend I can remember, is..”

He looked at Yashiro and then away.

“Wait why am I telling you this?” Mitsuba scoffed.

“Who is it?” Yashiro asked.

“What do you mean?” Mitsuba replied, tilting his head a bit to show his confusion.

“Your friend,” she insisted “the one you could remember?”

“It’s..” he looked hesitant to tell her, but then thought she might know where to find her, so she gave in.

“Her name’s (Y/N)..” he whispered, Yashiro just managed to hear.

“(Y/N)?” Yashiro repeated.

“Yeah.. it’s kind of a weird story. I don’t know why she’s the only one I remember. I just remember waking up, no memory of anything or anyone.”

“Just her.”

Yashiro gave him a pitiful look, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well,” she began “first let’s get out of here. And then, I think I might have an idea of where she might be.” she said with a smile.

“Really?” He asked excitedly, shooting up from his slouching position.

“Of course.” Yashiro confirmed.

“Well then..” he mumbled, looking up at Yashiro, leaning his head down on his arms and batting his pretty eyelashes at her “will you help me out of here?”

Yashiro felt a pang in her heart, to her, Mitsuba looked like an innocent puppy. And when he saw that look of awe in her eyes, he knew his charm worked.

“I can’t make any promises,” she cleared her throat “but this isn’t my first time in a place like this. So I’m sure we can find our way out somehow.”

“God..” he smiled softly “thank you, Yashiro.”

Yashiro put her hand over her chest, her eyes tearing up dramatically as she gushed over him.

“What is it?” Mitsuba asked innocently.

“O-Oh..” Yashiro stuttered “it’s nothing!”

She turned her head away with a smile, and each time she wasn’t looking, Mitsuba made a face to mock her.

.

.

They continued to walk aimlessly around the boundary, looking at all the mirrors as they passed by.

“Mitsuba,” Yashiro spoke up after a while, uncomfortable with the silence “this is your first time in a boundary, right?” she then gave him a proud smile “Not to brag or anything, but this is my fourth time in one!”

“It is my first time..” Mitsuba admited “but—“

“Then as your upper-classman, or- err.. woman? I’ll teach you all about boundaries!” She exclaimed excitedly, grabbing his sleeve-covered hand with her own.

———

After a while of Yashiro explaining the basic understanding of a boundary as they further explored the place, Mitsuba nodded and ‘okay’ed’ everything she said.

“Woah.” He mumbled in astonishment at the new information he was given.

Before Yashiro could make a proud remark, he snickered “You seem to know an awful lot about this for a living person.”

“Scary..” he said, backing away in ‘fear’ playfully.

.

.

The three of you made your way to the library where Mr. Tsuchigomori usually would be. Not giving him a chance to ask why you all are there, you begin to all try to explain at once.

“Wait, back up a few steps. One at a time.” He sighs, almost like a father telling his children to wait their turn to talk.

Before either you or Hanako get the chance to speak first, Kou beats you both to it—and explains the whole situation.

“Why are you even bothering me with this..?” Mr. Tsuchigomori groaned, rubbing his forehead as if it will soothe the annoying headache the three of you were to him.

“Because!” Hanako wailed “It’s been two hours since they took Yashiro! And I can’t get into number 3’s boundary!”

“Yeah!” You sighed with a pout, very much worried for your friend.

“The kids and I even tried begging on our hands and knees for number 3 to let us in! But it didn’t work!” Hanako cried, dramatically flapping his arms all over the place.

You smacked the back of his head “Stop that, we didn’t even go that far.” you groaned.

“But still! We would’ve if it meant number 3 would let us in!” Hanako wailed yet again, clinging to your sleeve.

“Please spider-face!” Kou finally exclaimed after seeing a moment from where he could talk.

The sudden name made you snort, clasping a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from bursting into laughter. Kou smiled, seeing as this had been the first time you’d smiled since the incident with Mistuba.

“It’s Mr...” Hanako corrected.

“Whatever! Mr. Spider Face!” Kou yet again exclaimed, clasping his hands together as if to beg, making you finally let your strained laughter flow from your lips.

“Yes! Please help us Mr. Spider Face!” You snickered, doing the same gesture as Kou, you both were now laughing maniacally at this point.

“You little..” Mr. Tsuchigomori sighed, you swore you saw his eyebrow twitching.

“I can’t let Yashiro get hurt..” Hanako spoke up, after having going silent for a while.

You and Kou both turned to him, confused by the sincerity in his voice. The Hanako you knew to be flirtatious and a pervert and sometimes even a jerk, being serious for once? It was a sight to see for sure.

“Tell me Mr. Tsuchigomori..” he uttered, finally looking up after staring at the seemingly more interesting floor for so long “won’t you help us?”

Even the disguised supernatural looked shocked to see the ghost so genuine, so with a sigh, he got up.

“Well, I do have an idea.” He hummed, walking over to a specific bookshelf.

He moved a couple of books to reveal Yako snoozing on the bookshelf. Effortlessly, he grabbed her, and tossed her over to Hanako—who luckily caught her. You, Kou, and Hanako looked down at the Nogitsune in Hanako’s arms.

“Number 2?” Hanako asked “Why?”

“Hear me out.” Mr. Tsuchigomori sighed, sitting back down at his desk “The seven mysteries boundaries each serve to oversee a certain aspect of the school.”

“My ‘book stacks’ manage records, the clock keepers manage ‘time’, and number 2 manages ‘space.” He explained “If you go through her boundary you can get pretty much anywhere in the school.”

“That includes number 3’s boundary?” You asked, looking down at Yako.

“Pretty much.” Mr. Tsuchigomori sighed.

“But I thought Yashiro busted up her boundary?” Kou asked.

“Oh Kou.. poor, sweet, dumb little Kou.” You snickered, making said boy glare at you, more like aggressively side-eyeing you.

Mr. Tsuchigomori shook his head with a fond smile, before continuing “Oh that.. all she really did was take her right to manage it. The boundary itself is still existing. But with its overseer gone.. it’s probably a mess.”

“Isn’t that right echinococcus?” He snickered, making the latter snap up with a growl.

“Shut up emo spider!” Yako retorted, making you snicker.

“Emo spider..” you snorted in an almost whisper.

“And why should I even help you! I could care less what happens to your assistant!” Yako crossed her arms, turning her head with a ‘hmph!’.

“Beecause we’re your favorites?” You asked hopefully, but she didn’t seem to budge.

“Kitsune udon.” Hanako spoke, holding up his butcher knife as if to threaten her.

“Huh?” Yako gasped offendedly “I- It’s not even my problem!”

“Udon.”

“Fine..” Yako finally huffed, knowing Hanako wouldn’t go through with it—but still wanted to help him out.

.

.

.

“Let’s see…” Yako hummed, walking towards the bottom of the stairs.

“This is it right?” Kou asked.

“You’re kidding right?” You asked in disbelief, giving Kou a ‘are you stupid?’ look.

“Hey I was just making sure!” Kou whined, elbowing you in the side, which resulted in you two giggling and playfully shoving each other.

“Here we go!” Yako sung, breaking your guys’s laughter “One,” one at a time you were taking steps up the stairs “two,” and another “three..”

“Four.”

The Misaki Stairs were nothing new to you, you had come here with the trio before in search for Yashiro’s friend, Aoi. And hearing that it had been all out of whack since Yashiro destroyed it’s yoshiro, you weren’t surprised to look out into the distance and for the large empty void to be staring right back at you.

Though it was filled with pretty flowers to the brim, and sunny skies something still felt off. Like something was out of place.

“It’s..” Hanako marveled, staring out in disbelief.

“Woah!” Kou grinned, looking around like a child trying to pick which ride to go on first at an amusement park “It’s so pretty now!”

“Yeah..” you murmured, not being able to shake off the eerie feeling it gave you, but seeing as the other two seemed at ease—you tried your best to forget about it.

“I’ll show you to number 3’s boundary,” Yako hummed, now in human form “just keep up.”

The “click-clack” and “tut-tut” of your shoes against the stairs as you climbed was the only thing to fill the silence. You looked down from the stairs, only to be met with a void. It was empty. So empty it made you shiver, so you moved your focus elsewhere. Perhaps towards the flowers at the bottom of the stairs…

“Hey fox lady?” Kou finally spoke up, breaking the  deafening silence.

“What do you want stupid brat?” Yako spat, not turning back to even glance at him as he spoke.

“You know how before your rumor changed and you went totally crazy?” Kou asked, making you widen your eyes at the insensitive comment and elbow his side, making him glare at you as he winced “and you attacked me and the other students.”

“You like bringing up unpleasant memories, don’t you?” Yako scoffed, but you didn’t miss the way she winced at the mention of the things she had done before “What’s your point?”

“Oh it’s just.. I was wondering what that felt like.” Kou mumbled, now feeling unsure if it was okay to ask, though he felt the need to.

“What? Why would you wanna know that?! Talk about poor taste!” Yako yapped, turning to glare at Kou “I knew Misaki was the only human worth answering! The rest are lower than insects!”

Feeling a bit of pity, and knowing how curious he must have been cause you were too you placed a gentle hand on Kou’s shoulder and spoke. “Hey, give him a break. I understand what he said might have been a tad insensitive but..” you paused, looking down at the ground “recently, we had a friend of ours go a bit berserk after his rumor changed. And we- I mean Kou’s just curious if when your rumor changed, was it still you?”

“They’re kinda like you, huh number 2?” Hanako chuckled, but Yako kept her back to you three.

“Well..” Yako finally murmured as you all continued up the steps “it didn’t feel good, at least when I look back at it now. But..” she paused, and she looked unsure if she should continue, but when she looked at you two who were listening so intently, she couldn’t help but continue “It was definitely me. It was just a side of me that I kept bottled up, and it was forced out of me. That’s all.”

“Okay..” Kou mumbled, clearly unsure. You didn’t miss how his eyes shifted back down to the yearbook in his hands, and you patted his shoulder, as if to tell him I know how you feel.

“So if you tried to say something to your friend, even if he didn’t understand it, it still probably reached him.” That alone gave Kou hope, maybe. Just maybe, that last encounter with Mitsuba, he was able to talk to him.

“It doesn’t matter how warped he is.” Yako continued, seeing how he seemed a bit confused “or even if he changed form or shape.”

“That boy.. is still that boy.”

Just as you were about to ask a question of your own, Yako and Hanako—who were walking in front of you, stopped walking. “We’re here.” Yako announced.

“I assume our chat is over?” She hummed in more of a question, but then added “We’ve arrived, number 3’s boundary is straight through here.”

“Is that a mirror?” Kou asked, poking the frame.

“I don’t know.. looks kind of eerie to me. Hanako mumbled, floating above it as he exclaimed it closely.

“Yeah.. I mean..” you murmured, running your finger along the glass when you felt a force pulling you in.

You let out a surprised yelp as you were engulfed by the mirror’s glass, leaving the three in disbelief.

“Just so you know.. I’m not going further than here.”

You landed in some unknown place with a “oomph”, the place was filled with mirrors. You heard a loud yelp in what you could have only recognized as Yashiro’s voice.

“Oh right, your supposed to be nice to girls.”

You turned with teary eyes from the bright light that filled the room to find the voice, and you felt yourself freeze when you realized it was Tsukasa.

The ghost, no. The vicious supernatural who tore Mitsuba from you.

You watched as Yashiro fell to ground in deep slumber, she looked awfully peaceful given the circumstances and situation they were in. When Tsukasa got up, your eyes wandered to where Mitsuba was at.

“Now, time for you to eat up Mitsu!” Tsukasa chirped, his voice was sickeningly sweet but it made shivers run down your spine, as he held what looked like to be a heart in his hands.

“No, NO! PLEASE, NO!” Mitsuba cried, trying to back away from the entity.

Mitsuba’s eyes widened in shock when he noticed you were there, and you didn’t miss that hopeful glint in his eyes when you made eye contact, hopeful that you would save him.

“(Y/N)!” He cried, trying to get Tsukasa’s bloodied hands off of him, tears streaming down his soft skin “PLEASE, HELP ME!”

You don’t know what came over you, but you found yourself rushing over in attempt to strangle Tsukasa, but he threw you off of him effortlessly.

“Get—“ you coughed “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Tsukasa looked unfazed, his expression void of any emotion but it still made you shake with fear, not of what he would do to you, but of what he would do to Mitsuba.

“Now, eat up.” Tsukasa mumbled, his voice was low, and sounded inhumane. Distorted and horrifying. You wanted to get up, fight Tsukasa, and save Mitsuba. But this was no fairytale, so with a pounding headache—you watched as Tsukasa forcefully fed Mitsuba what you thought to be number 3’s heart, due to the entity that laid lifeless beside them with teary eyes.

You began to cry, feeling helpless. Tsukasa got up, walking towards you. You saw as Mitsuba looked distorted too, but he was still Mitsuba nonetheless.

“No-NO! PLEASE DON’T HURT HER! I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST PLEASE—“

A loud “WHAM” shook the room and two boys you could only recognize as Hanako and Kou came crashing down screaming like little girls. Kou was the first to get up, his eyes wandered to your shaking form, but you weren’t crying out of fear of Tsukasa—who he saw standing in-front of you—but when he followed your eyes to where they wandered, he realized why.

“..Mitsuba..?”

(A/N) : Oml, Act I is finished!! My hands are cramping from all the typing and I lost lots of sleep but that’s fine! But busy with French lessons but I still had time for this. This will be proofread and (hopefully) posted as well as the other chapters in Act I, tomorrow evening. Have a good day/evening/afternoon/night, and stay hydrated!! Eat smth too if you haven’t!