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kittyt-hexxed · 3 years ago

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Hexed (Vi/POC!Reader) - Ch. 15

Next Upload Date: March 2nd

Act 2: Chapter Fifteen - Happy Progress Day!

Warnings: Murder, Blood, Mentions of BDSM practices, mild Kink shaming

Summary: Happy Progress Day! Piltover celebrates another year of moving forward while the Firelights continue to foil Silco’s plans.

You hum as you walk through all of the vendors lining the streets. Today was Progress Day! People shout at you from both sides of the street and beg you to check out their things. You were wearing an outfit you stole off a clothesline belonging to one of Piltover’s nobles. It was a bit too white for your tastes, but you didn’t complain since it looked so good on you. Your white hair was temporarily brown to help you blend in better. You also wore a pair of plain glasses. The best disguise was a minimal one. Your hoverboard is strapped to your back and is barely noticeable under your clothes. If anyone saw it and questioned you, you’d be able to pass it off as a project.

You were waiting for Ekko to tell you that he was in position, so you were passing the time. There were some interesting inventions around and some boring ones. You had passed by a guy with a mechanical butterfly that you thought was beautiful. You asked about any other animals he made, but those were the only ones. A few girls next to you said it was boring and kept going. As he was distracted, you slipped one of them up your sleeve.

“Don’t worry about those girls. It’s challenging to make mechanical items that mimic nature.” You give him a sympathetic smile, ��Keep trying! I’ll be interested if you find a way to make other mechanical animals.” You give him a pat on the shoulder. You swear there are hearts in his eyes as you walk away.

Most people were excited about the Hextech reveal that would be happening later this evening. You were hoping to get a present for Ekko. He’d been working hard lately and you wanted to give him something.

“Excuse me, miss!” An older man calls out to you. You pause and walk over to his kiosk. It is decorated with various clothing items and a few fabrics that catch your attention. A lot of it is bright and expensive, but there are a few deep and darker colors.

“Would you like to purchase any of these fabrics? You seem like a very elegant woman.” He smiles at you and picks up a deep red dress, “This is made with silk and woven with golden thread. Everything you see here is handmade by my wife and me.” You brush your fingers over the dress and smile at the texture. Fabrics like this were very hard to get in Zaun. You take some time to view the fabrics and ask the sellers about their quality. They were very enthusiastic and answered all of your questions.

“I’m a ballet dancer.” You say casually, “So fabrics are very important to me.” This encourages the older woman to launch into a conversation about how flexible the fabric is and that they’d feel honored to make you any dress you’d like. You bite your lip and decide to purchase one of the fabrics while they insist you take more. You hold firm with your decision, and the older woman sighs in disappointment. They tell you to come back in a few minutes and they’d have your order together.

So, you continue down the line of vendors and get closer to the center building. The songs are sounding out more desperate today. They were a bit distracting as you walked around. There were a lot of interesting things being showcased, but nothing worth gifting to your brother.

You kept wandering around, and found yourself in an area with some tents raised. You blink and realize that you had subconsciously followed the songs. Your eyes land on some Enforcers and your hand twitches. They make eye contact with you and you whirl around to walk away.

“Wait! Miss!” You hear someone call out.

“Miss- Miss Uley! Berry! Berry Uley, is that you?!” The same voice calls. You pause in the middle of your stride. There were a handful of people who knew you by that name. You turn around and see one of the female Enforcers getting shoved aside by another woman. Her fiery red hair glowed in the sunlight. A wide grin was on her pale face as she waves enthusiastically at you. You wait for her to get closer before you give her a smile.

“Hello.” You say politely.

“Oh my Gods! It is you!” The girl pulls you into a tight hug and you gently return it, “It’s me, Niki!”

“Niki! Why are you shoving the Enforcers?” Another girl says in annoyance. You blink seeing a black-haired girl walk over exasperatedly.

“Sorry, Megan! It’s just- I caught sight of Berry and I couldn’t let her run away before I said hello!” Niki says excitedly. It finally hits you as the other girl gets closer to you.

“Oh.” You gasp, “Niki, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you!” You laugh. Megan stops next to Niki and grins at you, “Berry. It’s so great to see you again!” Megan says. She extends her hand and you shake it.

“It’s great to see you too, Megan. I didn’t expect to see you two here. What are you doing?”

“Oh! I’m Councilor Medarda’s secondary assistant. I’m here with her gathering contact information from the press.” Niki explains.

“Wow. You ended up working with Councilor Medarda? That’s amazing!” You say to her.

“Right?” Megan laughs, “I’m working for Councilor Kiramman as her assistant. Your uncle put in a word for a lot of us, apparently. We owe him big time!”

“Uncle Uley never told me that.” You grin, “I’m happy for you two! You must hear a lot of drama.” You whisper.

“Definitely.” They both giggle.

“Anyway, we have to get back to work, but it was nice seeing you!” Megan says while giving you a hug, “Are you going to be in Piltover for long?”

“Aahh, no just for the Progress Day fair.”

“Awe, well, come visit us sometime!” Niki pouts, “We can treat you to some smoothies and catch up!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smile at her.

“Bye, girls!” You wave to them as they walk away. With a relieved sigh, you turn and walk back the way you came from. The tents quickly disappear and the vendors line the street once more. ‘Those girls were from my class. They can’t be more than a couple years older than me and they’re in such prestigious positions. Professor Uley put in a word for them too. They were a few of the only girls that spoke to me during class. They hung out with Chrissy and welcomed me into their little group.’

A grunt leaves your lips as you collide with a man. He grabs your arm to steady you and you cry out as the songs turn to horrified, screaming echoes in your mind. You yank your arm away and stumble as you clutch at your head.

“Miss?! Are you okay? Mi-” The man’s voice fades out as your surroundings blur. Images of people breaking large crystals flashes through your mind. You scream as pain floods your system. Hands are reaching out for you and you push them away in a panic. ‘Softskins! No! Get away! Get away!’ You try to move away as you feel the magic building on your skin. You scream again as more images of unknown creatures appear in your mind. You can see them fighting people and their pain is so tangible it feels like your own. You collapse onto the ground and feel the magic on your skin disperse as grief overtakes the pain. Seconds later, you register the hands on your body. Muffled voices slowly rise to a normal volume and your vision starts to return.

‘Hex?’ Umbra’s connection to you feels strained and it is evident in her voice.

‘Umbra? Iesura? What’s going on?’ You are mentally exhausted and can’t register their responses. You blink and look up into a haze of blobs.

“Miss?!”

“Someone call the Enforcers!”

“Enforcers?! She needs a medic!”

“I’m here! Let me look at her.”

“I-I’m okay.” You stutter out as your gaze clears on the people in front of you. There is the older man, the older woman, two other people and a medic. The medic gives you a stern look and you let him examine your head.

‘Oh, thank the Gods. We will discuss what happened later. For now, rest.’

“You seem to be okay. I’m not sure what happened, but please be careful.” The medic sighs.

“Oh, wonderful! You made me so worried, dear.” You blink as the older woman places a box onto your lap and gives you a relieved smile. You recognize it as the boxes they use to wrap up customers’ purchases, but it was larger than the original one she pulled out.

“Oh, no. Ma’am, I cannot-” You stutter, you didn’t have the money to pay for whatever extra stuff she gave you. While you did have a lot of money saved, it was placed aside for things that you had plans for.

“Please, I have enough money. Take these as a gift. A young girl like you should enjoy what life has to offer!” She chuckles and steps away to help another customer. You glance down at the box in your lap and smile. It was a very kind gesture that didn’t happen to Zaunites. You were aware it was only because you looked like you were one of them.

‘That was odd. I saw… the Namestones. I saw humans stealing the Namestones, right?.’

‘We can’t speak of this right now, but we will tell you soon, my child. Trust us.’ Umbra’s sincerity was the only thing keeping you from continuing.

“Excuse me?” One of the other people steps forward and you realize it was the man you had crashed into. You notice that he has a crutch and you feel bad for knocking into him. The girl behind him has a clipboard clutched to her chest.

“Oh!” You gasp, “I’m so sorry for walking into you.” You apologize.

“Please.” He holds up his hand, “You don’t need to apologize. I wasn’t very coordinated when both of my legs were working.” He chuckles. Then, it clicks and your eyes widen.

“You’re Viktor. Assistant Dean of the University.” You grin at him. You are aware of him being from Zaun. It’s an open secret at the university. You hadn’t been back to the university since the professor left. You felt bad for missing his send-off in the aftermath of the explosion. You should have trusted him to have your back.

“Yes, I am. Do I know you from somewhere?” He questions.

“I’m Berry. Berry Uley. You met me when I was younger and my uncle worked with you?” You blush.

“Ah, Professor Uley. He was a great man. I enjoyed the talks that we had. I hadn’t realized that you came back to Piltover. Did he come with you?”

“No, he’s back in Noxus, but I came on my own. Progress Day is quite interesting here.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it. I must get going. Duty calls but it was nice to see you again.” He shakes your hand and says goodbye before heading out of the tent. The girl nods at you in a way only a Zaunite could manage and your eyes widen. She giggles softly and follows after Viktor. Your gaze softens and you feel an ache in your chest. ‘He’s sick with the Gray. I don’t think he has long left by how his physique is deteriorating. I wonder why he hasn’t sought out medical care here. He has the capability of it.’ You furrow your brow.

‘Once a Zaunite, always a Zaunite. He most likely doesn’t trust the doctors here.’

A hoot from your earpiece catches your attention and you look at your watch. It was time to go. You get up and say thank you to the older couple and head out of the fair. You can’t help but feel a tugging sensation coming from the center building, but you ignore it. It doesn’t take you long to make your way to the loading docks. You creep your way around as you watch an airship pull into the dock. You hiss quietly as you watch Sevika appear on the ship. This was going to change things. ‘I might be able to buy us some time. Sevika does things too quickly. There won’t be enough time to start.’

“How could such an attractive woman be so bad? Or, why are all the attractive women so bad?” You mutter to yourself as you stalk closer. “Info - Owl. Ogre. Three clicks. Lone Firelight. Hawk inbound.” You whisper. You hear the soft owl hoot in response and nod to yourself. ‘I better get going.’ You pull your dress off revealing your usual outfit underneath. You slip your coat on along with your mask and disregard the noble’s clothes in one of the crates.

“Uh, shipping manifest?” The dock worker asks nervously. You see Sevika pull out a bag and toss it onto the man’s clipboard. You narrow your eyes and creep out from behind the crate.

“From your friend. Downtown.”

“Well, hello there! Happy Progress Day! Isn’t this a beautiful day to try new things?” You say cheerily as you walk over to them. They pause and look over at you. The dock worker looks terrified while Sevika narrows her eyes in a suspicious glare. You could see her indicate to the guy behind her and he stops unloading the airship. Your eyes glance across the barrel and you see the spray paint marker that indicates the shimmer inside. ‘Thank you Jinx for that tip!’ The others weren’t recognizing you as a Firelight because your hoverboard was still docked and you weren’t visible during missions.

“Excuse me, but you’re not allowed to be here.” The man says. You tilt your head, “Not allowed to be here?” You pout and cross your arms, “Please tell me that you haven’t forgotten about me already.”

“W-What?” He gives you a confused look.

“Not you.” You giggle. You motion to Sevika who has an angry snarl on her face, “Her. Want me to reopen that wound for you?” You coo. That made Sevika’s expression change into a nasty glare. You giggle and rush forward, ducking past Sevika who snarled and tried to grab you. Seconds later, there was shouting as the Fireflights came buzzing in. Ekko flew past you and indicated downwards as he tosses the sticky bombs. You drop into the ship and carefully walk forward. You didn’t want to set off any traps in here.

“Hawk?” You pause and turn to see Rick and Marc behind you, “We’ve got down here. You head back up.” You take a moment to think before nodding.

“It’s all yours. Be careful. Sevika is a nasty brute, who knows what she's got here.”

You head back up and make eye contact with Sevika who is stuck to the wall. She glares at you and you smirk while you pull out your accelerant. You pour a trail from the trapdoor and narrow your eyes when the trapdoor to the bottom closes behind Rick and Marc. You went to call out right before an explosion sounds and rocks the airship causing you to curse. You stagger as the ship tilts, ‘Jinx was down there? Why didn’t she attack me instead? I was alone.’ You sigh. ‘Fuck. I hope they’re not dead.’

You startle as the trapdoor opens and heavy purple smoke pours out and clouds your vision. A yelp tears itself out of your mouth as you feel Jinx’s hand wrap around your wrist and yank you forward. Your body collides with hers as she spins around, “I need to talk to you later. Don’t worry, they're just knocked out. Leave this to me.” Jinx whispers in your ear before kicking you back down into the cargo hold. You grunt as you land on your back and try to get your breath back. ‘How didn’t I see that coming?’

“That’s why she didn’t attack me.” You groan and get up. You rush over to the guys and verify that they’re just knocked out. You bite your lip and open a rift back to the Grotto as you hear two more explosions and your heart clenches. They disappear into the rift and you go back to the trapdoor. You hope Ekko wasn’t caught in either of those but something told you that he was okay. You get back up in time to see Eve - maskless with her hood down - struggling in Jinx’s grasp. Eve’s panicked eyes land on you and she sends you a pleading look. The memory from yesterday flashes into your mind. You grit your teeth, glance for Ekko and don’t move as she drops the lighter. Eve manages to wrench her wrist from Jinx’s grasp and runs a few steps away.

Eve doesn’t get far as Jinx whips out her pistol with a roar and shoots Eve in the back. Her body hits the ground with a loud thud. You flinch as you hear your brother’s warped scream and you let out a breath. If you don’t do something right now, this will all go up in smoke. You zip towards Jinx and tackle her just as your brother starts rushing her.

You roll across the deck and hit the railing. With a grunt, you get up just as Jinx does and make eye contact with her. She snarls, there’s a faint playful undertone to it as she pulls her minigun out and points it at you. Then, you realize how clouded her eyes are.

“Shit!” You shout and dodge her bullets as your brother is grabbed off the deck by Scar.

“Hawk! Get out of there!” Scar screams to you.

‘Damn it, Jinx! I can’t calm you down in front of the enemy like this!’ You sprint past Eve’s body and launch yourself off the edge as bullets fly past you. Jinx’s tortured screaming echoes in your mind as her minigun fires. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I never thought this would happen, flower.’

You land back at the treehouse and waste no time by running down to the amphitheater. You lean up against the tunnel as Ekko briefs the community on what happened during this mission. You watch as people cry for Eve and you make eye contact with Ekko. He gives you a sad smile and you give him one in return. He motions you away and you nod. He won’t be needing you for this.

Rick and Marc were hugging their parents and the others from the mission were nursing their wounds. Scar looks especially sour as he rubs his jaw. You laugh lightly. ‘His face was always a magnet for trouble. Just like-’ You shake your head. You notice that two others of your team had signs of Jinx’s bombs. You sigh in relief. You didn’t know that Jinx made non-lethal bombs but you were glad for it. Eve was the only casualty today.

With a shake of your head, you make your way back to the treehouse and head to the outer walls where your lab is located. You toss your coat off and drop into your chair. ‘Eve is dead... Eve is dead… She’s dead.’ You giggle happily as it sets in. You pull your daggers out and place them on your lab table.

‘Child?’

“Eve is dead, Umbra. Iesura.” You grin into the mirror, “The girl who called me a monster. The girl who hated me… She’s dead.” You start laughing at the situation as relieved tears fall from your eyes, “She’s been a shadow over my fucking shoulder this whole time. She never let me invent what I wanted. She always got in the way of me and my brother.” You breath heavily as reality sets in, “She tried to take my brother from me.” You hiss angrily and feel your eyes itch. Rubbing them, you look up into the mirror and get startled by your reflection. Instead of the usual dark brown, you were looking into golden eyes very similar to Umbra’s. The difference was that everything from your pupil to your sclera was completely gold.

“What. The. Fuck?!” You hiss and get closer to the mirror. You turn your face in different directions to see if it was your face. The eyes follow your every movement, every blink and you admit that they are your eyes. It was unnerving to see it.

‘You have the same color eyes that the females in our species tend to have.’ Umbra whispers in disbelief. You can feel her amazement along with Iesura’s.

‘Hexxit, I think you are taking on more qualities of our species. That would be the only answer.’

“But… How far would these changes go? I-I mean, I can already communicate with everyone. I can use magic!” You are pacing around your lab, “Which I have no limit on since I’m developing abilities I haven’t even trained for. I can teleport! What else? What else has happened because of this?”

‘Well, Umbra and I have been discussing your behaviors, we think you might be developing some of our instincts. Once we have verification, we will inform you.’

You sigh and stop pacing and a knock sounds at your door shortly after. You walk over to the door and unlock it. Ekko stands there awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck, “Can we talk, sis?” He asks nervously. You tilt your head and let him into your lab. Ekko takes his coat off as you lock the door behind him.

Your lab was in an isolated part of the base. That way, if anything happened, no one would be caught in any of the damage. Ekko was the only person who knew where it was now that Eve was gone.

“I’m sorry for the loss we've had today. May she see the light.” You thump your fist over your heart. Ekko does it in return and you both take a seat. He shuffles his feet around before sighing. He looks at you and suddenly you are staring at seven-year-old Ekko. Your gaze softens and you place a hand on his knee, “What’s wrong, my little firelight?” You say softly. Ekko’s tough dementor breaks and he starts crying.

“The Firelights look to me as their leader but I don’t feel like one. We’ve lost so many people, Sissy. Eve was killed and all I could do was blink. Jinx wasn’t supposed to be there… and even with all of these people dying, they still trust me. I thought the others had been killed too but I was lucky they weren’t.” Ekko rubs his face and sighs.

“Ekko. There’d be more people dying if you weren’t the leader. You’re incredibly smart and know what to do in difficult situations. The Firelights trust you because even when someone dies, you don’t let them die in vain. You created this place because you care about our people… You may not feel like a leader, but you’re a better leader than many others. We’ve made so much progress against Silco, too.”

Ekko gives you a tired smile, “Thanks, sis… I um, I also wanted to bring up something I overheard yesterday.” You knew instantly that he meant the argument between you and Eve. You were glad that he wanted to come and talk about it with you.

“I heard your argument with Eve yesterday, and all of the things that she said.” Ekko makes eye contact with you and sits up straight, ”I want you to tell me what’s really going on with you. Everything. From the very beginning… Please, Sissy?” He wrings his hands and you give him a teary-eyed smile. You were feeling conflicted about this conversation, but you know that you need to explain this to your brother. You’ve kept the secret for long enough, and with you porting the two brothers back to base, there were sure to be questions. Ekko was important to you, and it’s time he knew the full story of what happened to you.

“Alright, Ekko. I’ll tell you everything, but I’m gonna need you to listen closely.” You say seriously. Ekko nods and you lean back in your chair.

“You’re aware of the crystals merging with my body. What you don’t know is that they’re not just crystals. They’re souls.” You watch Ekko’s face twist into confusion, “When I died, it allowed the creatures to enter my mind and heal my body. You were right. The crystals are the reason that I survived. They introduced themselves to me and went by Umbra and Iesura. The whole time I was in a coma, they were teaching me about magic. I know it sounds crazy but you’ve seen the Hexgates… I can do so much more than that. But, that’s not all. I can still hear them and communicate with them.” Ekko stares at you in shocked silence.

‘You should show him. Show him what you can do. Maybe even show him your blood?’

“Right!” You gasp and jump up. Ekko startles with your sudden words and gives you a hesitant look. “I can show you.” You hold out your hand to him.

“Show me? How?”

“I can send the memories into your mind. I have to be touching you though.” You grin. Ekko gives you a skeptical look but places his hand on yours. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel the crystals in your skin heat up and when you open your eyes you watch them activate. The area around your skin warms before the crystals glow, bathing everything in blue light, and the familiar hum echoes around you.

“Woah.” Ekko breaths out and gazes around in wonder. You replicated the effect the Hexgates cast.

“This doesn’t happen to me. It’s just a cosmetic effect to show you. I don’t need whatever they do. I have magic. Real magic… I want to show you what I saw all of those years ago.”

Ekko’s scream turns into a laugh as you fall towards the river. You laugh happily and twirl through the air. “THIS IS INSANE!” Ekko screams at you. You glide to him and grab his hand, “I KNOW, RIGHT?!” You laugh and open up a new rift. The both of you fall through and land on your feet. Looking around, you find yourself back in the lab.

Ekko lets out a breathless laugh and falls into the chair, “I can’t believe you can do all of those things! That’s incredible, sis!” He messes with his hair and gives you a wide grin. You feel a warmth flood your heart. You could see the genuine joy in his eyes. Then, suddenly, the sadness set in, “Ekko… Eve was right. I am a monster.” You sigh and look away, “I’ve killed people and enjoyed it. I-”

“-So have I.” Ekko stands up and walks over to you, “Sis. I’ve killed people. Enforcers and gangsters are still people at the end of the day. It may not be the same but…” He grabs your shoulders, “you’re my sister. You’ve done everything you could to protect me. Do you remember when we were kids and you accidentally killed that guy who tried to kidnap us?” Speechless, you nod your head. You didn’t know that your brother remembered that day. “That didn’t change how I looked at you. You killed those Enforcers to protect us all those years ago, too. You’re not afraid to take the leap when it’s necessary, and neither am I. You died and I lost myself. You came back and I felt whole again.” Ekko pulls you into a tight hug and you let a few tears fall. You hug him back just as tightly.

“I know you struggle with your bloodlust. Maybe that does make you a monster in people’s eyes, but nothing is going to change the fact that you’re my sister and I love you…” Ekko whispers.

“I love you so much, Kiko.” You whisper, “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” Ekko pulls away from the hug, “Don’t think I didn’t see you tackle Jinx so I wouldn’t get killed. Scar complained that you took an unnecessary risk!” You both start laughing, “He’s such a dad now!”

You hum as you walk through the halls of the brothel. You were called into Babette’s office before your shift. The others greet you as you walk past their rooms. You catch sight of Miguel - the brothel’s bodyguard - in the process of pulling someone out of a room and nod at him. He nods back before knocking out the man in his grip.

“Oh, My Lady~!” You pause and turn to see Amare lounging in a bubble bath with one of her regulars. You smile and lean up against the wall, “Hey, Amare. Hello, Mika. I see you’re enjoying this early morning.” Mika’s face was pressed into Amare’s ample chest. Amare looks you up and down with hungry eyes. You were wearing a brand new dress that was made with expensive fabrics. You had opened the box from the fair and found five beautiful silk dresses and their corresponding fabrics. They are all in different colors such as teal, purple, black, blue, and a breathtaking red. You couldn’t help but decide to wear the teal one to work. It felt amazing against your skin and hugged your silhouette perfectly.

“Where are you going dressed like that?” Amare giggles, “You should join us. I’d love to help you out if it.”

“Hmm, only if someone requests joint-time with the both of us and is willing to shell out the extra money. Mistress called me in early so I’m not here for pleasure.” You wink as Amare pouts and you continue on your way. Babette’s office was at the far end of the building. It was right before the staircase that led to the high profiler’s area. That was the area you worked. There were only four rooms up there and two of them were yours. One was a basic lounge area and the other was an attached dungeon. When Babette realized how much interest you were gaining, she moved you up to higher-profile customers. No one knew your name except for Babette, and no customers knew how your full face looked. You wore a mask and if your mask was off, the customer was blindfolded. If a customer wanted to be with you, they had to shell out extra money. You were making more money than you knew what to do with, so you were putting most of it into savings. Half of it was going to Ekko so you could continue upgrading the base and making new inventions. The other half was for your personal use, but you didn’t know when you were going to use it. You were used to getting by with little to no money, and that’s what you continued to do.

You knock on the wall by Babette’s door and hear her call for you to enter. Opening the curtain, you are greeted with a happy smile from the brothel owner.

“Good morning, Lady. I apologize for calling you in so soon.” Babette brightens up.

“It’s okay, Mistress. I wasn’t sleeping. What do you need me for?” You take a seat on the couch. Babette places her pipe down and gathers together a small pile of papers. Her desk is covered in many papers that hold information on clients and analyses of the workers.

“I got a request from a higher-up to book out four hours of your time today.” Babette places the paper in front of you, “This is their pay.” You pick up the paper and nearly choke at the amount of money displayed. With this payment, you could blow away half of your savings and not have to worry.

“Bab- Mistress, are you serious?! What’s the catch? Are they a Piltie?” You stutter and give her a suspicious look.

The yordle laughs, “No, but she’ll be here in five minutes so your usual shift has been altered for today.” She grins at you and takes a draw from her pipe. You give her a deadpan stare. You aren’t going to give this opportunity up!

“An early riser, huh? Send her up when she gets here.” You grin back and get up. Walking out of the office, you head up the stairs and into your private lounge. Humming, you lay out the blankets, slip off your shoes, and sprawl out on one of the couches. You lay your legs across the couch and cross them. Your dress slips over your thigh and shows off a healthy amount of skin. You weren’t intending for that to happen but you won’t complain.

The door opens and you put a smile on your face that turns into a pleased smirk when Sevika strolls in. You can’t help but let your gaze wander her body. Sevika was huge. She was your height but the woman was ripped. She had huge muscles and a dark demeanor that attracted and scared a lot of people. As Silco’s number two, she put those muscles to good use. Six years later, she was still slinging back beer and smoking.

“And whom do I have the-?” You are cut off.

“-Cut the shit.” Sevika says, “I know it’s you, Y/n, so you can take the mask off.”

You raise an eyebrow and pull off your mask. You place it on the table next to you and give Sevika an impressed look, “Wow, I’m impressed. How’d you figure it out?”

“I have my ways.” Sevika growls out as she sits down. You take note of the tensed muscles in her shoulder and the stiff way she moves. She sat down with her legs open and you caught a glint of her metal arm. You shift as your mind starts spinning with plans.

“Well,” You give her a flirty smile, “You must be here for a reason.”

“Imagine my surprise when I started hearing whispers in the lanes about you being back.” Sevika leans forward, “Except, you’re dead. I saw your body in the alley that day. There’s no way you could be alive. Not even shimmer can save someone from that amount of blood loss.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” You say casually, “As you can see, I’m alive and well.”

“Yes, but what I can’t understand is why you’d hide for six years.”

“Oh, you can’t understand?” You hiss and stand up, “Benzo, Vander, Vi, Claggor, and Mylo are all dead because of Silco. I nearly lost my life too.” You sit on the ottoman in front of her that’s positioned in between her legs, “Forgive me for not knocking on your front door and telling you I survived.”

Sevika scoffs, “Do you know how hard it was to find you? Three people in the entirety of Zaun know that you’re alive. Markee, Layla, and Babette. I had to shake Layla for the information. It was quite a shocker to find out you work in a brothel and no one knows who you are. Your clients call you their Goddess and your co-workers call you Lady. You’ve effectively erased most traces of yourself.”

“I like the anonymity, besides, my clients find it thrilling that they don’t know my real name. It adds a bit more mystery to me. It wasn’t my intention but I benefited from it.” You look at Sevika in amusement, “Now. Did you come all this way and pay all that money just to see if it was me?” You place your hand on her thigh and squeeze it. Thick muscle is the only thing you can feel under your hand. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together in excitement.

“No.” Sevika growls and grabs your wrist, “I came here to tell you to stay away. Keep your nose out of Silco’s business and I won’t have to kill you. I’ll admit, it took some time to realize that it was you at the airship when the Firelights attacked. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away.” Her face was set with a serious stare. You raise an eyebrow and laugh, “Awe, Sevika. I’m not scared of you or Silco. Thank you for caring about me though. I didn’t know I was a soft spot for you.” Sevika continues to stare into your eyes before she scoffs and gets up. You lean back and stare at her ass as she walks.

“Leaving so soon? You’ve booked four hours of my time and signed my play agreement.”

“I’m not here for sex.” Sevika scoffs. You roll your eyes and sigh. ‘Being difficult, are we?’

“Sevika. You are a regular here.” You tap your nails against the ottoman, “You know what the rules are. If you wanted to threaten me, you wouldn’t have booked the full four hours. One would have been plenty.” Sevika pauses at the door and turns back to you. She narrows her eyes at you in a piercing glare, “Just because I’m a regular doesn’t mean I follow the rules.” She gives you a cocky smirk and you respond with a sweet smile. You stand up and purposely sway your hips as you approach her. You knew that she wouldn’t have paid for the full time if she didn’t want something, especially with the price she paid. It was four times your base price. People only paid that much when they wanted to make sure things happened and it was worth their time. The only other person who consistently paid a higher price for your time is the Chem-Baroness.

“Admit it, you want to know what it feels like to be beneath someone for a change.” You purr and caress her face. You could see the desire in her eyes. It was normal for women like Sevika to be resistant to new desires in the brothel. Sevika was usually the one doing the fucking, not the one being fucked, if your coworkers’ details were anything to go by. Layla was the one who usually monopolized her time, and she was as sexually submissive as they could be.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I won’t do anything you don’t like.” You say softly. Her eyes flicker down your body and she clears her throat.

“I don’t have time for thi-” You grab her by her shirt, cutting her off, and toss her back onto the couch. Sevika grunts as she lands and looks at you speechlessly with wide eyes. You weren’t completely ripped like she was with a more athletic physique but you could lift more than your weight. You give Sevika a devilish smile as her eyes roam your body. You slowly walk over to her, noting that she wasn’t moving from her position, even though you were giving her more than enough time.

“I’ll ask one last time. Do you want to do this, Sevika? Do you want to be beneath me?” You question as you crawl up her body and straddle her. You were face to face now and her eyes search yours as your breath fans across her lips.

You watch as she swallows. Her gaze gets intense and you can tell that she is debating with herself. You were enjoying this. Sevika is uncharacteristically silent and you can tell that she feels more like the prey than the predator in this scenario. Suddenly, you feel a wave of lust wash over you and you smirk. For some reason, you knew that it was hers.

“Y-Yes.” Sevika whispers hoarsely. She clears her throat again and speaks up, “Yes, I do. Happy?” A deep blush covers her cheeks as she turns her face away. She’s embarrassed to admit it. ‘She’s adorable when she blushes.’ You giggle.

“Good girl. You admitted it.” You grab her chin with your hand and turn her back to you. You slip her hair out of the ponytail it was in and marvel at how she looks with it all down. “Now… submit to me.” You purr. You are going to enjoy this. After all, the brothel is where all secrets are spilled.

#vi x reader #ekko's older sister #poc reader #vi arcane #arcane #vi league of legends #vi #genius reader #ekko league of legends #sevika arcane #arcane jinx #implied sex #character death #reader insert #progress day

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alloftheimaginesblog · 4 years ago

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Life Without Colour {PART TWO}

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

taglist: @domainoflostsouls forgetthisbull handon-h-art yourspecialcrush giulsgotmusic

As morning crept in through the blinds, you opened your eyes. It had been a horrendous night. You’d slept for a couple of hours, if that, all in and every time you woke up, you felt like crying. You opened your eyes to see wonderous colour, everything was so colourful and it shocked you but my god, you wished that your vision was still black and white. If your vision had been black and white everything would’ve been fine and you would be happy. You would’ve given up anything to have black and white vision back. Black and white vision wasn’t so bad, I mean, it always felt like you were trapped inside a 50s sitcom but that was pretty cool! Though now with colour you could easily see what your clothes looked like...

Steve was still sound asleep beside you. His alarm would go off in an hour or so. Carefully, you got out of bed trying not to wake him as you went to wander through Steve’s apartment. You were grateful that Steve’s décor was darker and more muted colours; dark blues and browns (and you knew what colours they all were because during the night, you’d found some YouTube Kids videos telling you all the different types of colour. You liked red and you really liked yellow). You spend a while walking around the apartment and looking out the window, watching the sun come up. Your stomach flips and you feel sick as you see a photo of Steve and Bucky; the same photo that you’d seen so many times before except now it’s in colour and you can see Bucky’s dark eyes and Steve’s bright eyes. Taking a breath, trying to push the nausea away, you wish it had been Steve’s eyes that you saw. You wish Steve’s bright blue eyes had been the first ones you saw in colour.

Your mind refuses to stop picturing Bucky and that first moment of seeing colour crashing over you like a wave. The guilt hits you like a train as you stare at the photo. How could you love Steve Rogers and yet have Bucky Barnes be your soulmate? You needed help; you needed some form of guidance, someone to talk to that wasn’t Bucky Barnes.

Steve finds you sitting on the couch, staring at the photo of the pair, fifteen minutes later. He pads over to you, realising that you’re in a daydream of sorts, “Sweetheart?” He says softly sitting on the couch beside you.

You tore your eyes from the picture and stared at him, once again the colour of his eyes surprising you. Quickly, you set the photo down and pull him onto the couch, “Steve, I have to tell you something.”

Steve brushes your hair out of your face, frowning in concern. He could tell something was eating away at you, he noticed it last night at the party. He’d hoped it had just been the migraine but now, seeing the fear in your eyes, he wondered if it was something else entirely. He asks if you’re okay, asks what’s wrong and you open your mouth and then shut it. You need to tell him. A relationship shouldn’t have secrets or lies and you had always been honest with Steve. Steve valued honesty and truth among all else, he valued loyalty and yet, here you were, keeping the biggest secret of your life from him.

He repeats the question, “What’s going on?”

You shake your head and plaster a smile on your face, “I was just thinking that I’d go see Nat today,” you told him, “She was telling me about her and Bruce yesterday but never got to hear much of the story before my migraine kicked in.” It wasn’t a lie, you were waiting to hear more of Nat and Bruce’s story but that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to go and see her. You wanted Nat’s opinion on everything; you wanted her to tell you what you were supposed to do.

Steve nodded his head slowly, “Are you okay, (y/n)? You’ve not seemed quite right since last night at the party.” No, I’m not right at all, Steve! My soulmate is your best friend! How do I tell you that? How am I meant to tell you that without destroying you?

“Yeah, everything’s fine, love,” you smile at him, “The migraine’s away but I barely slept.” He looks at you with that stare, the one where he’s trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth, “Honestly, Steve, I’m okay. I’m absolutely exhausted but I’ll have a cup of coffee and go see Nat and I’ll be fine. Must’ve been the champagne last night, I only had one glass but you know I’m not a big drinker and you know Stark buys the expensive stuff.”

Steve relents with a sigh, he’s unsure but you seem to be talking a little more, “Okay, just remember that I’m here for you if you need me...” He stands up, stretching and you smile as you look at him. He is one fine specimen. He notices you admiring his muscles, “You think these are impressive?” He chuckles, “You should’ve seen me before the serum.”

You laugh, a real genuine laugh, and for a few seconds, you forget about everything. Things were just so real and easy with Steve, “I would’ve loved to have met you back then you know.”

Steve scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re way out of my league right now never mind back then.”

“I’m serious,” you say as you follow him into the kitchen, “Steve, you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I would love you in every lifetime and every size or shape. Skinny, pre serum Steve would’ve been just as perfect. The serum changed the way you look but it never changed the way you act or the way you think. That’s all you and what do I always tell you?”

Steve smiles as he makes the coffee, “You love the way I think.” He looks up at you and you smile at him. Everything was always easy with Steve; it always had been, even on that very first day.

The rain poured down, splashing onto the sidewalk. You pulled your jacket tighter around you as you tried to back further into the wall. You’d been waiting outside a café for over thirty minutes waiting for your date to show up. So far, nothing. You’d text and left a voicemail asking if he was on his way but no answer. You huffed as you shook your head, “Bloody men.”

You go to turn and walk away, knowing that you’d been stood up and didn’t want to hang around for nothing, when you almost bump into something or rather someone, “Sorry, I was going to ask if you wanted my umbrella.” He asked with a smile, “But you started cursing out men and honestly, it’s a little intimidating.”

You looked up at him and smiled, well he wasn’t your soulmate but that was okay, you didn’t need colour to know that he was ridiculously good looking, “Sorry, I, uh, I got stood up so I’ve been standing in the rain for nearly forty minutes. I even went to the effort of putting on a whole new outfit and curling my hair!”

The man sighs, “I’m sorry to hear that, how about I buy you a cup of coffee?” He holds his hands up when you look at him concerned, “I just wanna be nice, that’s all. If you hate me, you never have to see me again.”

You find yourself laughing and shrugging, “Oh, what the hell- sure... I’m (y/n).”

“Steve, Steve Rogers.”

It hits you then. Of course, “You’re Captain America!”

Steve nods, “I hope that’s not an issue?”

You shake your head, “Not at all but... why does someone like you want to go on a date with someone like me? I mean you look like that and I look like...” you look down at your soaked outfit, “a drowned rat.”

His laugh is lovely, you realise as it comes booming out of him, “Someone like me? I look like this now but before the war, I was a scrawny five foot four kid with too many health issues to count and someone like you? You mean someone beautiful with a gorgeous smile?” He opens the café door, “Shall we?”

A cup of coffee with Captain America, you muse in your head as you sit at the table in the small café waiting for him to bring you back your drinks, your mom would have a field day with this one. You shrug your jacket off and hang it over the back of the chair, thankful that your jacket had kept the rain from soaking you straight to the bone.

Steve appeared a minute later, two coffees and two muffins, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted something to eat so I got us muffins.”

“Thanks,” you smile, happily taking a bite out of it. Steve sits down and you suddenly feel rather awkward as he smiles at you. You’re not soulmates. Your vision is still black and white so... what was the point?

Steve seems to read your mind, “We’re not soulmates... It’s okay.” You breathe a sigh of relief and Steve can see you visibly relax.

“Yours is still black and white?”

He shakes his head, taking a sip of the coffee, “No, I... I met my soulmate a long time ago.”

“Oh?” you pause and he can see your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“It was during the war we met,” he goes onto explain, “Things couldn’t really go anywhere since I woke up in the twenty first century... She died a couple of years ago.”

Well, shit. “Oh god, Steve, I’m so sorry. That’s... That’s horrible.”

Steve smiles, appreciating your genuine sympathy, “It’s okay,” he shrugs, “besides, I like to think I can make my own destiny; that there’s more than one person in the world that could be a match for me.”

A smile spreads onto your face. He was like a breath of fresh air, the way he spoke about things with such hope... it was inspiring. No wonder he was Captain America; everything America should have been, “I like the way your mind works.” And it’s true. You’d never met anyone who was so hopeful. Everyone you met followed the rules and stuck by them but Steve, despite his past and despite his definite trauma, he remained hopeful for a better future.

He asks about you and your situation, “Still black and white,” you tell him, “I have to send pictures of my outfits to my sister who met her soulmate years ago just to see if the colours go well together.” He laughs, “I’m in no rush to find my soulmate, if I ever find them. I don’t believe too much in it either.”

The pair of you look across the table at one another and smile and it’s an unspoken agreement of ‘are we going to do this?’. Steve takes a sip of coffee, hiding a bashful smile from behind the mug, “You know, I’m real glad your date stood you up.”

His kiss on your temple as he slides your mug of coffee over to you breaks you out of your trance, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m real glad my date stood me up,” you murmur with a smile.

A slow grin spreads on his face, “Yeah, me too...”

Once you’ve eaten breakfast, gotten dressed and ready for the day ahead, you text Nat and ask her if you can come over. She responds right away telling you to come by whenever. You get ready to leave and say bye to Steve, who’s using a laptop looking up something else that Sam told him about.

“I’ll be home soon,” you say, kissing his hair, “Text me if you’re wanting me to pick up anything while I’m out.”

“I love you,” Steve calls as you’re pulling on your sneakers.

A pang of guilt hits you and you take a deep breath, “I love you too, Steve.”

You leave.

The drive to Natasha’s apartment is a short one and it helps that you’re breaking most of the traffic laws to get there. You need to tell someone. Honestly, at this rate, you’ll be having stomach ulcers with the stress. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe this wasn’t such a big deal... Maybe you would tell Nat and she would roll her eyes and tell you that it would be fine, to tell Steve and don’t talk to Bucky again. You hoped that it could be that easy but really... would it be?

Natasha immediately knew something was wrong, “Have you slept?” She asked, noting the dark circles under your eyes and your stressed appearance.

“Couple of hours.”

“What’s going on?”

“Coffee and then we’ll talk.” Nat nods and goes to the kitchen so prepare the coffee. Her apartment is bare but stylish. It’s not very personable but she wasn’t very personable so it makes sense. Nat always told you that she was ready to up and leave if she needed to. You follow her into the kitchen to see her lifting down two blue mugs, “Actually, can I get that red mug that’s on the top shelf?”

Nat nods and reaches up. Then she realises what you just said, “No fucking way.” You sigh, sitting at the kitchen island as she stares at you, throwing question after question at you, “You can see colour? When? How? Who?!”

“Coffee first, please.”

Natasha Romanoff has never moved faster in her life as she makes that cup of coffee and has it sitting in front of you within thirty seconds. She demands to know everything, “When?!”

“Last night at Stark’s party.”

Natasha snaps her fingers, “I knew something wasn’t right! You left so early and didn’t even say goodbye, by the way. Tony said you had a migraine but I thought something was off.”

You nodded, “Yeah, the colour was overwhelming and it gave me a migraine. It’s still pretty overwhelming, to be honest.”

Natasha leaned forwards, elbows propped onto the kitchen counter, “Is it...”

You shake your head, looking at your hands, “No... It’s not Steve.”

She curses under her breath, “Damn... I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how difficult that is but... doesn’t mean everything’s doomed. Who is it?”

All of a sudden, you can’t say anything; all you can do is stare at the coffee. Natasha begins to list of names, “Stark? Thor? Galactica man? Fury? Parker-”

“Nat, he’s seventeen!”

She holds up her hands, “Wanda? Strange? Sam? Maria Hill? Oh my god, is it me?” You roll your eyes at her and then she says it, “Bucky?” Your bottom lip trembles and Natasha’s jaw drops, “Bucky?! Bucky Barnes?” A nod is all you can muster, “Holy shit! I knew the universe is fucked but I didn’t realise it’s this fucked!”

“You said it doesn’t mean everything’s doomed, tell me it’s not doomed, Nat.”

“What did Steve say?! Holy shit, I can’t believe that. No wonder you didn’t sleep.” She sees your eyes lower, “You have told him, haven’t you?”

“I tried,” you whisper, “I tried, Nat. I-I couldn’t.” She sighs heavily, “It’s bad, isn’t it? It’s real bad.”

She nods, “Yeah, it’s gonna be bad.” The two of you are silent as you sip at the coffee, trying to figure out what the next move is. It feels good to talk about it with someone; feels much better to share the load with someone who isn’t Bucky.

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say eventually, voice cracking with emotion, “I mean, how do you tell your boyfriend that his best friend is your soulmate?” Nat doesn’t have the answers and you know she doesn’t. She can’t tell you what to do. Bucky couldn’t tell you what to do either. You have to figure it out by yourself.

“Tell me everything.”

So you tell her everything. You tell her about seeing him, about going to get air, about Bucky finding you and having a secret conversation with him, about the migraine and about going home with Steve, “The worst part of it is... Bucky’s eyes were the first pair I saw in colour. How many times have I said to you even if Steve wasn’t my soulmate, how many times have I said I wanted his eyes to be the first ones I look into with colour vision? I feel like I’ve betrayed him.”

Nat’s hand reached out, clasping yours from across the table, “This isn’t your fault. I know that if you had your way, you would’ve seen colour with Steve from that very first glance. If not Steve, you would’ve picked me, obviously.” You laugh slightly, “Steve will understand that you didn’t want or mean for this to happen. His soulmate is someone else as well.”

“But his is dead. My soulmate is another Super Soldier who has a freaking metal arm and used to be an assassin!”

“Don’t knock assassins,” she scolds with a smile, “I’ve seen the way you and Steve are together and I know that you’re the real deal, soulmate or not. You know that too. Your talk with Bucky seems like you two are pretty okay with nothing happening between the pair of you and that’s a good first step.”

“What do I do?”

She squeezed your hand and gave you a small smile, “You know what to do.”

You let out a long breath and nodded slightly, “I have to tell Steve.”

Natasha smiled. She was one of your closest friends, she seemed to understand you pretty well. She understood your anguish and your pain and she would always listen to your problems. Steve was close with Nat for the exact same reasons. She helped and she listened. Natasha had welcomed you practically with open arms (except she hated hugs) when Steve introduced you to her. Straightaway she knew that you two were made for each other, even if the universe didn’t think it. She made a comment that stuck with you to this day, ‘You both make each other a better person. You share the load and take turns of carrying the burdens. It’s not common that happens.’

To distract you, she updated you on her and Bruce Banner saying that he’d finally asked her out and their date was tonight, “I’m sorry. I know the last thing you want to deal with is my relationship problems,” you apologised as she told you.

“Don’t be silly, I’d rather help you than worry about what I’m meant to say on this date! I’ve not been on a date in years!”

“You’ll be fine,” you laughed, draining the last of your coffee, “You know that the pair of you are soulmates just... no work talk.”

Natasha looked like a deer caught in the headlights, “No work talk? What am I meant to talk about?!”

“I don’t know... the weather?”

The redhead rolled her eyes, “I’m not taking advice from someone who’s dating their soulmate’s best friend.”

“Low blow,” you said laughing. She did always know how to lighten the mood, “You’ll be fine, Nat.” As if on cue, you get a text, “It’s Steve... asking when I’m coming home. Can’t put it off any longer.” Standing, Nat tells you that she’s proud of you.

“It won’t be easy but... it’s the right thing to do.”

In the car ride over, you had rehearsed what you’d say to Steve. You would tell him everything that happened, you’d tell him about Bucky, about the conversation you had with him, about the real reason why you had a migraine and you’d apologise for not telling him as soon as it happened. You were scared but fear isn’t a real excuse to not do the right thing. You hoped that he wouldn’t hate you. You hoped that he would forgive you for not saying something sooner.

As you open Steve’s apartment door, you hear laughter... You frown as you close the door behind you, “Steve?” You call out.

“(y/n), you’re home,” Steve replies, “We’re in here.”

“Who’s we?” You ask, kicking off your shoes and peering around the corner, “Oh.” You don’t look at the figure sitting next to Steve. You can’t. You’ll lose your composure and everything will be a mess again.

Steve grinned, “Bucky thought he’d stop by, isn’t that great?”

You force a smile, “Amazing! I’m going to go make myself some lunch.” Quickly, you rush into the kitchen, trying to slow your heartrate. What the fuck is he doing here?!

That’s when someone clear their throat from behind you, “I brought the coffee mugs we used back...” Bucky Barnes was the last person you wanted to see right now and now, here he was, standing in your kitchen trying to make conversation with you?! Universe, you and I need to have a good long chat.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is harsher than it should be but you’re annoyed. You’d agreed to only see each other when necessary not randomly! You thought that you’d be able to tell Steve yourself without unwelcome guests such as Bucky.

“Steve said you were out and I thought I’d be okay to see him for a few hours!” Bucky’s just as annoyed apparently not wanting to see you much more than you wanted to see him. He’s annoyed that you’re annoyed. You turn to him, glaring into those blue eyes, “Look, I know you hate me for fucking things up but... I needed to see you.”

“Why?!” You’re whisper shouting at each other and you were so glad that Steve didn’t have super hearing.

“Because I- I can’t stop thinking about you!” He hisses, arms flailing as his eyes bore into your soul, “I never slept because I couldn’t get you out of my head!”

You’re breathing hard as you look at him. He couldn’t sleep because he was too busy thinking of you? “You couldn’t sleep either?” Bucky cocks his head in confusion, “Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw were yours.” You explained and you give a bitter laugh, “Forgive me for being annoyed but I wanted the first colour I saw to be Steve’s eyes, not yours so yeah, I’m a little pissed.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Oh, I’m sorry, princess,” he scoffs, “If I had it my way, I wouldn’t have picked you to be my soulmate. Plenty more people better.” The comment stings. You don’t know Bucky at all, all you know is what Steve told you of him but so far, he had made a terrible impression. Though to be fair, you’d said similar things to him so... Immediately, he groans and realises how big of a dick he looks, “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just- It’s-”

“Complicated. I know... I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit of a bitch. I never thought that this would happen. I’m stressed and I feel like I’m going to get a stomach ulcer from the stress.”

Bucky nods, “I’m sorry too... I’m sorry for showing up here too. Steve said you’d be out but I was hoping to see you again. I couldn’t sleep last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I’d met you first.”

“Bucky...” Your voice is a warning. A warning to not break over that threshold because once you break it, there’s absolutely no fixing it. It’s a warning that nothing will happen between the two of you.

He realises and quickly straightens, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just... Just don’t go there,” you say with a nod as you turn around and open the fridge. You pull out some leftovers from your dinner the night before and go to the microwave to reheat it. The pair of you are quiet; the only noise to be heard is the hum of the microwave, “We should tell him,” you say eventually.

Bucky sighs. He too felt terrible for lying to Steve but he thought that hiding it was the easier thing to do, “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You nod as the microwave beeps, “We have to tell Steve.”

“Tell me what?” Steve asks, walking into the kitchen and placing some dirty dishes on the counter, “What’s going on? You okay?” Your eyes fleet between Steve who remains happy yet confused and Bucky who won’t stop staring at you with the deep stare.

Oh, fuck.

#one shot #life without colour #lwc #marvel #avengers #marvel one shot #avengers one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve/reader/bucky #series #marvel series #plus size series #reader insert

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putseraphinaonthaphone · 4 years ago

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Behave, Majesty

There was a reason he was assigned to be the head of your security. He was the fiercest warrior your father could find, which meant you- the heir to the throne and the most wanted marriage match between the three largest kingdoms of the land- would be safe against any reckless nobles who resorted to more desperate means to take your hand by force.

When you met he was still in his full armor, and he held his helmet impatiently in his hand, allowing you to see the mess of pale gold strands of his hair. You descended the stairs leading into the main audience room, the gossamer layers of both your cape and your dress- designed to highlight the generous curves of your body and show off your desirability to potential suitors- a soft rose that complimented the dusky shade of your skin, and made your dark areolas and nipples stand out. It was also thin enough that Bakugou could see the shadow of hair that covered your pussy. You weren't sure if he wanted to fuck you or kill you based on the way he was taking in your official royal attire.

You always felt ridiculous in these outfits, like a show pony, but somehow when it was his gaze taking you in like it was his right- you felt powerful. Desired.

Introductions were long and ornate and boring, and somehow you were relieved by your new head guard's rude interruption-

"Bakugou, your Majesty. Can we skip the formalities? I'm sure the heir to the throne has more interesting things to do." He almost sneered at you, as if he knew most of your life was preparing to be the trophy of the most politically beneficial suitor.

"Yes, I have an appointment with the master of the baths this afternoon in preparation for the suitor ball in a fortnight." You returned evenly, but your narrowed eyes and cuttingly dry tone just made your new guard grin with a sharp fierceness that made your stomach clench.

"I'll keep you safe while you're getting pretty Majesty."

Having Bakugou as a guard was.. interesting. He was always alert and prepared for all threats, and he saved you from many attempted kidnappings. Every time he put you to bed after an attempt he'd stay the night with you, sitting in a chair by the door while he sharpened his knives.

You loved these nights, because you never felt safer than when you called out to him in the low light of the room, only able to see him in his poet shirt because of the candle he used to see his blades and wetstone, and he grunted at you, "I'm here Majesty. I'm not leaving your side. Now go to sleep."

Having Bakugou as a guard meant getting lectured the first moment you're alone.

"My job, Majesty, is to keep you safe. That means you have to behave. You have to obey every order I give, when I give it, because your obedience can mean life or death in a moment of danger. Do you understand?" He was crass and abrasive around others, even your father the King, but when it was just the two of you he was focused and straightforward. Determined. A conquerer, if you'd ever seen one. Whatever he set his mind to he'd accomplish, you were sure. What would it be like to be the focus of such relentless intent?

"Focus, Majesty. I asked you a question." His words were sharp, making you guess he'd called out to you more than once when you were lost in thought. You blushed furiously but nodded, and if your voice shook at least only he was here to witness it.

"Y-yes, I need to behave for you and be obedient to ensure my safety." His eyes seemed darker for a moment, watching the way your tongue swiped over your bottom lip. With a sharp nod he ended the conversation, and retreated to be a protective shadow like he was assigned to be.

Having Bakugou as a guard means through all the would be suitors, the balls, the brunches, luncheons, court audiences, he was by your side. Rolling his eyes when you couldn't at the ridiculous promises suitors made you, and holding his hand while you lean on him to take your painfully ornate shoes off for just a moment before your next appointment.

Having Bakugou as a guard means seeing the way he slowly starts to show his respect for the work you do for those in your kingdom you claim your father's infrastructure has failed. He follows you day after day going around the kingdom's orphanages and poor houses, bringing your maids in waiting to carry more baskets of food and blankets and medical supplies. He helped carry the heaviest supplies, his red eyes following you as you sit and talk with the children while your aids distribute the food and blankets (because as much as you'd like to you're not allowed to actually do any of the cooking and preparations yourself as another ridiculous limit because of your royal blood.)

But then your father tells you he's found a suitor, that he's tired of your arguments for not marrying the decent, perfectly acceptable matches he's put forth, and that you're to be married within the year.

Having Bakugou as your guard as a betrothed royal is hell. He sneers more often than not when mentioning anything about "Prince Izuku, the Compassionate" your soon to be husband if your father has his way. And after meeting your betrothed you found he was a perfectly kind man, with an honest heart and a genuine desire to do what was best for his people.

But he didn't make snide jokes with you about the gilded trappings of the upper class that felt like a prison, he didn't sit with you to ward off nightmares of men coming to take you simply because of who you were born to, and he didn't make the vow to keep you safe- willing to lay down his life to make sure you kept your freedom.

Having Bakugou as a guard means finding the most inconspicuous time to have a moment alone to tell him-

"I don't want to marry Prince Izuku." Your handmaids were dismissed for the night, and you had claimed you were fearful of nightmares to get Bakugou to stay the night with you.

You were in your bed, the sheets long since turned into a tangled heap, and you leaned against the ornately carved wood of the bedframe's canopy as you made you declaration.

The nightgown you wore was, like most of your clothes, more gossamer threads than anything substantial. And in the candlelight of your royal bedchamber the champagne fabric made your skin shimmer like bronze. Bakugou's heart clenched at your words and he hoped so brightly for a moment it took a viscous amount of self control to wait, hear everything you had to say.

You stood and walked over to him, barefoot, a vision that was begging to be claimed.

The doors were locked, and no one but the man you wanted was able to see the way you knelt before him- a royal showing such an act of loyalty and submission was unheard of. But Bakugou could see that you were genuine in the way you bowed your head to him for a moment, and the longing in your gaze when you finally looked up at him.

"I want you. You swore to always keep me safe, do so by taking me for yourself. You'd protect me.. and you'd protect any heirs we may be blessed with.." You murmured your reasonings softly, your hands resting on his knees as you spoke. You saw the hardness between his strong thighs and you took a risk that had your face flushing red-

"I'd have to obey you, as my husband. But I always obey you don't I? Give me a command. Let me show you how well I can obey."

Bakugou cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb over your lips, bitten red with your worrying.

"Such sweet lips saying such tempting things. You'd give up the throne to two kingdoms to be tied to a simple knight?" His question was quiet, but the weight of it hung between you two heavily.

"I'd give up everything to be by your side for the rest of my days. I'm not afraid, I'm never afraid because.. I know you'll protect me. That's all I need." You'd thought this through. You were prepared to present your father with an alternative form of union between the two kingdoms, or runaway if need be. You also had a plan, one that was crazy, reckless, desperate. But if there was no other way to make sure you were his.. You too, could be relentless in pursuing what you wanted. Maybe your love for him gave you that drive.

"And you want to give me children?" The way his voice grew rough as he asked it let you know this question affected him just as much as it effected you. Your thighs clenched together, and that heat that always lingered in your belly in his presence seemed to be ignited by the thought of what he was going to say to your reply.

"I want to behave for you as any good royal should, and provide my husband with as many heirs as he desires." You met his eyes seriously, and you didn't when his hand lowered to wrap around your throat. You leaned into his grasp, breathing in sharply when his grip tightened briefly at your blatant trust and submission to him.

"Your father may not allow it." It was as if you scented blood in the water, if he was coming up with reasons you shouldn't it meant he was in favor of it. You would have him, because no one else could ever compare to the brightness of him that exploded in your life and didn't leave a single thing the same.

"If I'm already with child when we present our argument, he won't have a choice but to give you my hand in marriage." You blurted out, your one ace card. The way Bakugou's jaw clenched and his grip on your throat tightened enough that you got light headed made you squirm.

"Are you truly so desperate for me that you'd allow me to put my seed in your belly? Tonight?" All it took was a nod, and he was hauling you into his arms. Your legs went around his waist without hesitation, and he carried you back to your bed.

Stripping you of your close was easy, especially compared to your lover's brute strength- the gossamer silk fabric didn't stand a chance. You were bare before him in moments, and he shouldered his way in between your lush thighs to he could finally get his tongue in your pussy like he'd been dreaming of doing for months.

You were biting your lip and trying to hold in your moans, because you couldn't get caught. Not yet. Not until you were sure his seed had taken root in your womb.

"Not a sound, Majesty. We are not going to be interrupted until you are leaking my seed." The low, growled words made you whimper, and you pushed your hand against your mouth to try to obey him. Because you would always behave for him. Your Knight.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #happy birthday bakugou #i have a thing for knights #and royalty #tw: dubcon #tw: duboius consent #tw: dark content #tw: kink

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frogsandcookies · 4 years ago

Text

Cat Hoodies and Flirting

I bring you flirty Logan, flustered Patton, and dash of Patton angst. Accompanying this is a strange plot that takes a bunch of weird twists and platonic Prinxiety.

___

Set after Moving On Parts 1 & 2

___

After doing his normal morning routine which consisted of washing his face, combing his hair, and changing into a suitable outfit for the day, Logan walked out of his room and down the stairs to the unusually quiet kitchen where Patton was sitting slumped over a bowl of cereal.

"I see the gift I got you fits well." Logan commented as he walked into the room, noticing Patton was wearing the cat hoodie the logical side had gifted him several days earlier. The sight of the moral side in the hoodie made Logan feel strangely proud; the look of joy on Patton's face when he had first gotten it a prize worth slaying an army for.

Patton looked up from his cereal bowl where a bunch of cheerios sat soggy in the milk, untouched. He gave a small smile, replying with,"Yeah, it's very fluffy and soft on the inside. And of course, a cat hoodie."

"I'm glad you like it." Logan said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Patton hummed in response, turning back to his cheerios which he was pushing around with a spoon in a disinterested and distracted manner.

Logan frowned, noticing Patton's lack of energy and pep. The moral side would have normally made several puns at this point and have lectured Logan about staying up until unholy hours of the night/technically morning.

He decided that his work could wait and joined Patton at the table, the latter looking up from his cereal once again.

"Don't you have work to do?" Patton asked, trying to conceal his dejected attitude with a happy facade.

"Yes but it can wait. Patton, I notice your usually bright demeanor is more forced today, is something wrong?" Logan questioned, a concerned expression making its way onto his face.

Patton forced a smile onto his face and said,"No, everything's okay!"

Logan sighed and placed his hand on Patton's, a gesture that shocked the latter. "Patton, I might not be Deceit--er Janus but I can tell that you're lying. What's wrong?"

"I...I have romantic feelings for someone." Patton said, letting his fake smile drop as he revealed the cause for his miserable attitude.

Logan steeled, his heart aching for some reason but he kept a neutral face as he asked,"What's the matter with that?"

"I don't this person feels the same way." Patton said. Logan frowned. Anyone who didn't requite Patton's feeling was an idiot, he thought.

"I wouldn't say they're an idiot." Patton said, causing Logan to flush. "Did I say that aloud?" He asked. Patton nodded, looking a bit amused.

"I just mean, you're so amazing and thoughtful so I don't see why anyone wouldn't return your feelings." Logan elaborated, looking confused as Patton blushed.

"I'm glad you hold me in such high regards." Patton said, still flushed. Logan smiled. "Of course I do, despite our disagreements and differences, you are among my best acquaintances."

"We've known each other for decades Lo, I'd call us friends as this point." Patton said, smiling. Logan felt another wave of unexplainable sadness wash over him at the word 'friends' but kept smiling despite that.

"That makes us sound so old." Logan commented. Patton laughed, his cheery demeanor beginning to return. "Well Thomas is 28." He said.

Logan nodded, looking at Patton and their intertwined hands. He though about the strange ache that kept coming whenever Patton mentioned his crush. This wasn't the only time his heart ached like that but the common link seemed to be Patton. For some reason, whenever he and the moral side interacted, he felt unexplainably nervous, his face often burned at compliments, and further symptoms of an unknown disease showed.

Patton smiled and said,"Thanks for cheering me up, Lo."

Logan snapped out of his stupor and looked back at Patton, giving a small smile before saying,"It was my pleasure Patton. ...If you don't mind me asking, who is this person who has earned your affections?" Patton blushed once again and he said,"I'd rather not say the name but I'll describe him."

Logan nodded and Patton began talking once again. "Well he's handsome. I know that we all have the same face but all of us have different aspects that differentiate us and his just make butterflies form in my stomach."

"That's concerning, you shouldn't have insects forming in your stomach as a result of your infatuation." Logan said, frowning. "It's just a saying, it just means he causes me to be a bit nervous." Patton explained kindly.

"Ah. Well, what else do you like about him?" Logan asked, pushing down the sadness once again.

"Some people see him as cold but that's because they haven't gotten to know him. When you get to know him, you get to see how passionate he is and his caring side." Patton said, a lovesick smile gracing his lips.

"Are you talking about Virgil?" Logan asked, trying to connect the clues to a side. "What? No, he's my best friend. I don't feel anything other than platonic love for him." Patton said.

"Oh." Logan said. "What made you think I was talking about Virgil?" Patton asked.

"The description sounded a bit like him but since you have denied this then I am once again confused." Logan replied.

"Oh. Well, here's another clue of sorts. He's smart and most definitely the wisest side of Thomas." Patton said, a lovesick face once again worming its way onto the moral side's face as he thought about the side.

Logan frowned. "Deceit?" He questioned.

"No." Patton said, snapping out of his daydream at the question. "Roman? Emile? Remy?" Logan said.

"No, no, and no." Patton responded, a vaguely nervous expression making its way onto his face.

Logan was both relieved and more confused at this answer. "There's no one left, unless you're referring to someone from the Imagination though that is doubtful considering how Roman always makes sure to lock his door."

"There's one person left." Patton said softly, pulling his hand back. Logan thought for a moment before realization struck. He looked over to Patton a wide eyed expression and said,"Are you talking about me?"

Patton looked down and Logan took this as confirmation. "Why would you like me? I'm harsh and cold and emotionless and--"

Patton looked up with a serious expression. "You are not emotionless Logan. You have emotions and you don't have to hide them. Having feelings doesn't make you any less smart." He said.

"I...But why me?" Logan asked.

"I can't exactly control who I love, Lo." Patton said, looking almost embarrassed. Logan blushed a bit and said,"You love me?"

Patton flushed and said,"Uh--Yes?"

"Earlier you said I wouldn't requite your feelings, why would you assume that?" Logan asked, once again confused.

"I just--well it doesn't seem like you're interested?" Patton said, internally debating about whether to run away or keep talking with Logan.

"Oh. Well you would be wrong." Logan said. Patton looked at him with a surprised expression, his eyes fairly wide.

"Wait really?" Patton said.

Logan smiled and took Patton's hand, kissing it softly. Patton's face burned and he hid his face with his free hand. Logan smiled a bit wider and said,"Yes."

Patton blushed darker and Logan took the latter's face in his hand. "Don't hide your pretty face from me, Pat." Logan said.

"Since when were you so charming, Lo?" Patton said, his face a shade of bubblegum pink thanks to Logan's words.

"I can be romantic, I just choose not to be. But now, maybe I should do it a bit more because it seems that you are very easy to fluster." Logan quipped, winking.

"I am not that easy to fluster!" Patton said half heartedly, his complexion contradicting the statement.

"It's not a bad thing, in fact I find it quite adorable." Logan said, blushing a bit as well. "You're going to kill me. Logan, I'm going to die and when I do, you're going to kill my ghost." Patton said, smiling and blushing.

"Well then I'll just have to revive you. Will a kiss do?" Logan said. Patton sputtered for a moment before closing his mouth and nodding.

Logan laughed and pressed his lips against Patton's. They pulled away after a few seconds and Patton mumbled,"I'm going to die now. Tell my son I love him."

"Love you too dad." Virgil said, walking into the living room, Roman following behind him.

Both the moral and logic side shot up, the former asking,"How long were you watching us for?!"

"Long enough that we learned what a flirt Logan is and that you are the most blushy side in the Mindscape." Roman replied, smirking a bit.

"We also know that Logicality is now canon." Virgil added, a matching smirk adorning his face.

"Logicality?" Logan asked, him and Patton both looking equally confused.

"Logic and Morality. Logan and Patton." Virgil explained.

"Oh. OH." Patton said. "Is this one of those "ship" things you were telling me about?" Logan questioned.

"Mhm." Virgil replied, eating a couple chips.

"I told you I wasn't talking about a boat!" Patton said, smiling a bit. "Fair enough." Logan said, giving him a matching smile.

"Ew, go be romantic somewhere else. We're trying to eat." Roman said, his nose wrinkling.

"Pat and I were here first." Logan pointed out.

"Get a room." Virgil said.

"Fine. Patton, it seems we are in the presence of several heathens who don't have manners. Would you like to accompany me to my room? We could watch a movie." Logan said, turning to the shorter side.

"I would love too." Patton said, grinning. Logan smiled and said,"Perfect. Much like you."

Patton flushed again and all three of the other sides laughed. Logan offered his hand to Patton who took it and followed Logan.

"Congrats on getting together! And if you hurt dad, I will send Remus after you." Virgil said, the last part directed and Logan who nodded in understanding.

"I wouldn't dare." Logan said, giving Patton a loving look that caused the moral side to melt.

As they walked up the rest of the stairs, Virgil turned to Roman. "You owe me five bucks, I told you they'd get together by the end of the month."

"Fine though I don't see why you need the money." Roman said, fishing out his wallet from on of his pockets.

"It's more the satisfaction of winning." Virgil replied.

Roman rolled his eyes and handed Virgil a five dollar which the anxious side took and put in his hoodie pocket.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #mentioned janus and remus #logicality #ts logicality #patton angst #mutual pining #flirty logan #flustered patton #platonic prinxiety #tw minor food mention

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starksvixen · 4 years ago

Text

Best Shot - Part 3

Warnings: severe injury to reader, lots of angst, mentions of sexuality (no smut), swearing, violence

Word Count: 2456

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 (finale)

2 weeks. It had been 2 weeks since you had left Jay’s apartment and crashed at Connor’s. Things at the station hadn’t been the same with you and Jay at odds. You still kept things civil, but every time you both left from work, Halstead would give you a piece of his mind. Why you shouldn’t be staying with Connor. Why you should just come back home. He would almost have you convinced, but you knew him too well. Jay would always hold something back and you could tell. What you mistook as his arrogance against apologizing was him holding back from saying those three little words. Nevertheless, you still would part ways with him and spend most of your nights with Conner.

You rummaged through your small duffel bag you had packed from your and Jay’s apartment, trying to find anything that didn’t have bullet holes or were permanently stained. After these past weeks, you were left with only one outfit left.

“(Y/N), I know this is tough, but you gotta make a decision.” you hear Connor say as he leans against the doorway to the living room.

Looking over to him, you see one of his minimalistic mugs in hand, filled with a steaming liquid. In only sweatpants from your last...session, he looked like a perfectly handsome mess. Connor Rhodes was the perfect guy. Good job, smart, sarcastic, sweet, caring, unbelievably good looking. But deep down you knew he was too perfect. You wanted your fucked up boy from the army who would lay his life on the line for you in a heartbeat. The guy who made mistakes with you but would always return to make things right. You wanted Jay Halstead.

“Think you can spare some room for me here?” you ask with a half hearted smile.

“I always will. But both you and I know this won’t last because you took the easy way out. You’re always going to want-”

“Him...” you whisper as your hand graces over one of Jay’s shirts that had found its way into your bag.

Gently, you pick up the worn out garment and run your fingers along the collar. Even without pressing your face to it, you knew it would smell like him. Smell like home.

“Need a ride?” Connor asks softly.

Shaking your head, you quickly pack up and grab your keys. Before leaving Connor’s apartment, you turn to him with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, I know this probably didn’t turn out like you wanted it too.”

“No hard feelings, this was temporary. And it was lots of fun. But you both deserve to be happy.” he replies with a smile.

You smile too and nod before leaving and going to your car. After throwing your duffel in the back and yourself into the driver’s seat, you were on your way home.

Parking in the same spot as you always did, you turn and pull the keys from the ignition as your eyes scan over the building. The living room light was still on, a small flickering every now and then telling you that Jay was probably watching the Hawks game.

You step out with a deep breath, bag in hand, your exhale crystallizing into fog from Chicago’s chilly winter weather. Walking towards the door, you unlock it with the keys you have and walk in, dropping your duffel by the door.

“Will, I’m not in the mood.” you hear Jay say from your living room.

Softly walking in, you see the small collection of beers that hadn’t taken Jay’s edge off strewn around him. The dark circles you had seen develop over the past weeks looked so much darker now. Tears filled your eyes at the realization that he was right, you were letting your extra feelings get in the way of what matters. Your friendship.

“It’s not Will, Jay,” you say.

Jay quickly twists from his lounging position to see you. It’s like he couldn’t stand up fast enough as he rushes towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. Gently, you wrap your arms around him in a friendly way, holding him close to you.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” you hear him mumble.

“Enough of that, I’m home now.”

He pulls away just a touch, your faces proximity making your cheeks light up like red bulbs from Christmas lights. For a moment, you wish that he take that one step forwards. That his lips dance with yours when danger isn’t looming. But your wishes are futile as he takes more steps away from you.

“I’ll get you a beer,” he says as he backs away more, clearing up all the empty beer bottles before disappearing into the kitchen.

You only nod before plopping yourself on the end of the couch you claimed as yours. Soon enough, Jay returned with two beer bottles, sitting on his end of the couch while tossing a blanket over to you. You take both gratefully, sipping your beer while curling up into the soft material.

Two beers turned into twenty, giving both of you a slight buzz. The Hawks game had changed to Brooklyn Nine Nine. The space between you and Jay had shrunk as you cuddled together on the couch peacefully. Your tipsy laughter fills the apartment, contrasting the blue light from the TV with warmth.

Your soft whine when the show switches from the cop comedy to Seinfeld only makes Jay laugh more. You smack his chest playfully, quickly sitting up to meet his face.

“How dare you giggle at my misery. Halstead,”

“Oh whatever, stupid, it was cute and I’m allowed,” he replies with a smirk.

“Oh, so I’m stupid then cute?”

“Will you shut up so we can watch the show?”

“Make me.”

You will never regret saying those two words.

In a blur, Jay snatches your hips and pulls you onto his lap. The distance between you two closed as he leans up and captures your lips with his. Shocked, you gasp but quickly return the kiss, your hand working their way from his chest to his face.

His hands somehow find their way under your shirt, on your lower back, pulling you closer into his chest. Working your hands away from his head, you tug at the collar of his shirt from behind his neck.

Another blur and Jay is standing with you in his arms before disappearing into his room with you.

-~-

The bright light streaming in from Jay’s windows pierces your brain, making you groan slightly from the mild hangover you had...again.

But my were you glad you were.

As soon as you tried to slip out of bed to get some aspirin, two strong arms pulled you closer into a chest. Turning around, you see Jay half asleep with a goofy smile on his face. A sense of relief flooded over you, he remembered the night before. And he didn’t seem to regret it either.

“You gotta let me go, lover boy,” you mumble as you run a hand through his messy hair.

“Nooo,” he whines, puling you even tighter to him causing you to giggle.

“We are gonna be late and Voight will be pissed,”

“God, fine, but you owe me when we get home,”

He reluctantly releases you into the cold air of the apartment. With ease, you steal his shirt laid on the floor and slip it over your naked self. Looking behind you, you catch a glimpse of him getting out of bed. Memories of the night before flooded your mind, making you bite your lip and a blush to spread across your face.

“Can I help you?” he asks while slipping on a pair of sweatpants, a tired smirk on on his face.

“Hmm, maybe when we get home.” you say with a wink before walking out of the room.

-~-

A couple of months later and both of you still have a jump in your step walking into work. The squad originally thought it was because you had finally gone home to Jay. But when your giddiness hadn’t died down over the weeks, bets were quickly placed.

Sitting at your desk, you take a sip of coffee and begin to fill out paperwork on your laptop. From across the room, you could feel Halstead’s eyes on you. Subtly looking over at him, you see his eyes on the hickey forming on your neck just below your jaw. With a smirk, you tuck your hair out of the way, putting the bruise on full display. You watch as Jay’s bottom lip gets tucked beneath his teeth and you send a soft wink his way.

Just in time, you look away to see Voight rushing downstairs, armed in tactical gear.

“We’ve got a hostage situation at Bleeker Street Bank. All of Intelligence needs to be there, this seems to link back to our case against Diaz,” Voight quickly says to the squad.

Jumping out of your seat, you rush to the locker room and quickly suit up. Walking out with your gun case, you hear Voight assign you and Halstead on the opposing roof as snipers. With a nod, you both rush out to his beast of a truck.

The entire ride there, he kept a gentle hand on your thigh but you could tell he was on edge. You both hated when the other had to go into a highly dangerous situation, but it was part of your job. As he parks, you quickly lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face towards you. Gently, you lay a quick but deep kiss on his lips. Once he pulls away, his eyebrow shoots up and smirk appears on his face.

“What was that for?”

“To get you to calm down,”

You smirk and get out, grabbing your gun case from the back and making your way up to the roof of the opposing building. Once you’re stationed, you quickly set up the gun and aim the scope at the open window. You have a clear view of the hostages in the room but no sign of the offender.

“You got eyes on the offender?” you ask Jay, not moving from your spot.

No response.

“Jay?”

Suddenly, you feel a blade against your throat, making you tense up but your hands refuse to move from your gun.

“Come on, pretty girl. You and your friend are gonna pay for what you did to Diaz.”

Gripping tightly onto your gun, you snap your head back, hitting your captor in the crotch with your head. He stumbles back, but not without his blade cutting your neck a bit. Gritting your teeth through the pain, you use both hands to hit your offender in the face with your heavy rifle. Quickly, he flies to the ground, unconscious from the hit.

That’s when you hear the click of another gun, most likely aimed at you.

Slowly, you turn your head to see another guy with a gun in hand. This time, it wasn’t aimed at you. It was aimed towards Jay’s head as he held him a death grip.

“Let him go...” you growl.

“Nuh - uh, sweet heart. You and your friend are coming with us. Drop the rifle.”

Quickly, you let go, the clatter of the powerful gun making the man in front of you relax a bit.

“He had nothing to do with this,” you reply, raising one hand and slowly moving your other that was concealed from him towards your back where your pistol lay.

“He was an accomplice, got Quentin into the spot where you needed to shoot. So nah, he’s coming with us.”

Jay’s eyes widen at the sight of your hand gripping tightly onto your gun before you whip it out, aiming it at the additional captor. At the same time, the gruff looking man moves his aim away from Jay and towards you. Jay desperately tries to break the man’s hold on him before it’s too late.

“I said let him go!” you yell, your anger increasing at the situation.

“Move one more step and I’ll shoot!” he replies.

“Go ahead, because you can bet your ass I won’t miss!”

The tip of your gun is aimed directly at his head and you take a sharp inhale as your finger moves to the trigger.

“Drop him!” you yell again.

“Put the gun down!”

Exhale and shoot.

But more then one gun goes off at the same time. Adrenaline runs through your veins like a mustang as you watch the guy drop dead beside an unharmed Jay.

“Told you I don’t miss,” you say as you shakily lower your pistol. Wait, why were you shaking?

Looking down, you see blood pooling on the white shirt underneath your bullet proof vest. He’d gotten you right below the ribs, right where your body was exposed from the vest when you had your arms up.

“(Y/N)!” Jay yells as he rushes over to you.

Blood pours through the shirt as you drop your gun, applying pressure to the wound as the metallic liquid pours through your fingers like water. The amount of blood you were losing and how fast it was pouring out makes your legs weak. Too weak, as they collapse under you, your body hitting the gravel roof as everything blurs.

“This is Jay Halstead, officer down! We need paramedics on the roof of the north building immediately!”

“C’mon, baby, you can’t leave me now.” Jay’s voice echoes in your head.

His hands are over yours as he helps keep pressure on the wound. You simply smile through the pain, moving one bloodied hand from underneath his and laying it on top of the pile.

“I love you,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as your eyelids get too heavy to hold open.

- Jay’s POV -

“(Y/N)?” I ask shakily, tears flooding my eyes in a faster pace then before. When she doesn’t answer, it’s like a punch to the gut over and over.

“(Y/N), stay with me! Wake up, baby, please!”

I push harder on her wound as her body begins to go limp. Paramedics arrive, bracing her and carrying her into the ambulance as I follow close behind. Both of us ride in the back of the ambo as it races to Med. Paramedics work around me as I hold onto her hand with both of my mine, tears breaking up the blood stained on my face.

As they race her into the ED, I see Rhodes eyes widen at who his next trauma patient was before quickly getting to work. She disappears into the ED as Will races out and towards me. All I can seem to do is sit against the tail end of the ambo, staring off into space.

“Jay, man, what happened? Are you hurt?” Will asks.

“I never got to tell her I love her back.”

Tag List: (leave a comment to be added)

nocturnalherb16 weepingfestivalmentality ikleesfiction annaallicce panaitbeatrice shipshipshipau

#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #conner rhodes imagine #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago med #reader insert #(y/n)

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ditttiii · 5 years ago

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Mobius

They say some infinities are bigger than others’ and you can’t say that you fully understood what that meant—at least not until you fell in love with Kim Namjoon, the time-traveller and the man who lived in your house, decades before you.

◈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (A Time Travel AU // strangers to lovers AU)

◈ Genre: Romance, Angst with a happy ending, Smut, Fluff (PG-18) (slight hair pulling, if that’s a problem for you here’s a warning)

◈ Word Count: 9657 (of which 3k is smut so lol you’re welcome)

◈ Based on the prompt: In the middle of the night, you hear strange sounds. You go to investigate, only to find a man rummaging through your fridge. At the same time, you both say, "What are you doing in my house?" It turns out that the man lived in your house decades ago. But how did he get here? by @megahwn

◈ Event: Written for the “Prompt Twist” event hosted by @bangtanidx

“Because time is a drop in the ocean, and you cannot measure off one drop against another to see which one is bigger, which one is smaller.”

Mobius :: an infinite loop.

*clang*

Your brows furrow as you turn on your bedside lamp and you wince when the bright light assaults your vision. As your blurry eyes try to focus on your bedside alarm clock, you realise that it has been less than three hours since you went to bed.

'What the hell?!' Is the thought at the forefront of your mind as you groan and scoot off your bed. Your scowl only grows darker as your feet touch the cold floor of your apartment.

You had recently bought the property two months ago. You were a writer by profession, and while your books didn't top the bestsellers list, you earned enough to live comfortably. The added bonus of your job being your passion wasn't lost on you either.

As you walk across your room to your door, the noises only get louder. You think you had closed the windows before going to sleep so it shouldn't be the wind, but maybe the wind was strong, and the latch unlocked on its own?

When you had bought the land, it wasn't barren. The property you had bought also had a two-storey built house on it, one you had additionally paid for too. However, it's times like tonight that make you think, that perhaps, buying an old house, with creaky floorboards and loose windows wasn't the smartest decision.

Climbing down the stairs, you tighten your robe around your body to shield yourself from the cold that would settle every time the sun would set. Again, one of the perks of buying an old, abandoned house.

You follow the sounds to your kitchen, your feet padding across the living room. The sound of your footsteps drowned by the noises that were coming from the kitchen.

However, as you enter your kitchen, you freeze midstep. Your eyes widen, and you take a step back, as your eyes take in the scene.

There was a man, crouched over, rummaging through your fridge for lord knows what. A man who you had, from the looks of his back, never seen before in your life.

Your breathes quicken, and adrenaline flows through your veins as your fight or flight instinct kicks in.

You move soundlessly, tiptoeing to where there is a lamp kept on a small table. Your eyes stay locked onto the intruders hunched over figure as you pick it up, wrapping the wire around your arm, to make sure that it wouldn't make any noise as you move.

'To charge or to ask?' The thought runs through your head as your eyes stay trained on his figure. While you did want to protect yourself, you also didn't want to accidentally, fatally injure a hungry, homeless man. As your eyes roam over his old fashioned outfit, your belief only strengthens. Definitely homeless.

When you move to close the distance, the floor below your feet creeks and you curse. Hearing the sound of your curse, the intruders face snaps up, his figure spinning and turning to look at you.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, as your eyes lock with him, and at the same time, you both say, "What are you doing in my house?"

Your brows furrow and your eyes narrow, as you scoff out an, "Excuse me? The house you're in right now? Yeah, mine."

Taking a threatening step toward him, you raise your lamp and continue, "Now let me ask that again, Who are you and just what the fuck do you think you are doing in my house, hoarding my fridge?"

The man raises his brows incredulously as he points at himself and goes, "I don't know who you are, but this is my house." He then pauses as his eyes travel to where you are holding the lamp high above your head before he continues, "And I believe that lamp is loose, I'd suggest that you lower your hand before the bulb falls off and shatters on your head."

You blink taken aback before your eyes narrow further. You look up and flinch away from the lamp as you realise that the stranger wasn't lying.

"Who even—"

"Are you?" The unknown man finishes your thought, before looking at you with raised a brow.

Somehow, that makes you feel a little stupid and that, annoys you more.

'Fuck him and his holier-than-thou attitude.' Your mind supplies, miffed and maybe a little irrational, as you further narrow your eyes at him.

"Well genius, why don't you answer the question then?" You practically spit out, your words coming out more like a hiss at the end. You were at your wits end, and your patience was all but ready to snap.

The man looks at you, his jaw clenched and jutting out as he regards you. You unconsciously pull your robe tighter over your body, unsure and wary of his intent. His eyes sweep over you, then sweep over your kitchen, narrowed and contemplative?

"Excuse me?!"

"Shush, one second." He replies as he raises a finger at you as if to ask you to stay quiet?

'What the actual fuck?' Is the only thought that runs through your head as you stand there and wait for the man to finish musing over whatever it was that he was contemplating. There wasn't much else that you could do anyway. You take that time to observe him too and gulp when you see how low the neckline of his shirt is. The material thin and almost see-through hangs lose around his body, the cuffs draping low over his fingers.

You think if you hadn't met him in such unconventional circumstances, you'd have been interested in him.

"The bedroom is through the second door on the floor above this. Also, there is a crack that runs through the third tile on the left of the bathroom door."

Your gaze snaps back to him when you hear him say that and you gape.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out as you look at him with furrowed brows. He shouldn't—couldn't have known those finer details about the interior of your house.

"Wh-what?" Your voice comes out soft, unsure, as your head tilts in confusion. His dark, thin eyes track the movement, follow the way your hair come loose with the motion and slip past your shoulder.

"I have a theory behind why I am in your kitchen, but I don't think you'll believe me." He responds, his eyes never once straying from where they were fixed somewhere on your shoulder.

Your eyes furrow in confusion as your eyes track his line of sight, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you realise your robe had slipped off your shoulder, and the bare skin of your shoulder was in his plain sight. Quickly gliding a hand over your forearm, pretending like you were itching at a point on your shoulder, you slide your robe up.

The strangers' eyes snap away then, and he blushes?

His behaviour was confusing you more and more. First, he wasn't answering your questions then he was creepy staring at your bare shoulder, and it all that wasn't enough now, he was embarrassed.

'It's way too early for this.'

You clear your throat and wait for him to look at you before continuing, "Right, I might not believe you, but I'd like to hear your theory anyway, but," and here you hold your finger up before you continue, " I'd like to know your name first. Mine's Y/n, and I can't say it's exactly a pleasure to meet you."

At that, he cracks a smile before he puts his hand out and goes, "Hello, I'm Namjoon and uh, I am sorry about all this," Here he randomly waves his hand in the air as if to indicate the mess you two were in before he continues, "but let's talk? I'll try my best to explain."

You nod and shake his hand, a little wary before you gesture him to follow you and you both settle down on your living room couches. Him on the seat opposite yours, as you wait for him to continue.

Namjoon, as you now know, wrings his hands, chin again jutting out as he seems to be deep in his thoughts. You glance at the living room clock and wince when you see the time but don't say anything, for once not disturbing him and instead wait for him to gather his thoughts.

"Do you know who I am?"

Your brows furrow when you hear him say that and you give him a look as if to say what do you think?

He, however, doesn't take any offence to your snappy attitude, and continues, "I mean, have you ever heard my name before?"

At that, you furrow your brows and shrug. "I know a few Namjoons so, what?"

His eyes widen when he hears you say that and he huffs, "Right, My bad, what I meant was my full name is Kim Namjoon. Does that ring any bells?"

Your eyes widen when you hear him say his full name. 'Kim Namjoon', your lips form the words, but no sound comes out. The back of your neck breaks out in cold sweat when you finally put the name to his face. Back when you had been looking to buy the property, your agent had informed you of Namjoons status; missing, and the conspiracy around his disappearance, still no signs of where he was or how he went missing.

He looks at you, observes your reaction and nods as if you had just confirmed something. "That's what I thought. My name is Kim Namjoon, and I am or well," here he stops before he looks at the calendar that was on the table beside his couch and continues, "Was the owner of this house 40 years ago."

You blink before your mouth opens, but again no words come out, and you close your mouth again. Thinking back to a few minutes ago, it suddenly makes sense to you as to how Namjoon would know those details about the interior of your house.

'He lived here, or is it lives here?'

"Where were you all this time then?" You ask instead, you have too many questions and you don't know which one you should ask first so, you go with what comes to your mind first.

Namjoon glances at you surprised, maybe he had expected you to freak out, which would be the logical thing to do, but you are a fantasy author, and you remember what Kim Namjoon's profession was, you just hope your hunch is right and that he wasn't a ghost instead.

As you raise your brow, he snaps out of whatever stupor he was stuck in and continues, "I've been living here. Well or I was at least, I don't know how to explain it to you. I barely understand it on my own, but I have a guess." He fumbles as he explains and you just nod to indicate that you are listening, encouraging him to continue.

"So, if you don't know who I am or was, ugh—I don't know, this is so confusing. But, well, I am a scientist, a physicist if I have to be precise. I studied time, the concept of stars, galaxies, a mixture of quantum and astrophysics." Here his hands flap around in the air randomly, which you think is his way of trying to get his point across and so you just nod to show that you are following along.

He looks at you and nods before one of his hands' rakes through his hair, the strands long, and dark, move under the force, and you gulp as your mouth suddenly goes dry. Now that you are no longer in mortal danger, your brain was finally picking up on how good looking the stranger or not such a stranger, was. His hands big, his fingers thin, long and ridiculously hot.

You snap your gaze away from him and blush as you realise just where your train of thoughts was going and internally admonish yourself for letting your libido get the best of you.

'Focus Y/N, have some shame, will you?' You think to yourself before you let out a quiet huff and straighten up, snapping your gaze back to Namjoon as you hear him continue.

"I don't fully understand how this happened either, but I had been working on a time machine." Here his eyes tentatively find yours probably expecting to see a look of disbelief or annoyance, however, you keep your face straight and expressions neutral, just nodding along as a gesture to continue.

'So your hunch was right.'

"It was a prototype, and I didn't think it would work, I mean time travel wasn't exactly a possible belief amongst the scientist community back then, probably still isn't, is it?" He asks you and looks at you with his brows raised and you fumble. You don't know if it is or isn't, but you hadn't heard about anyone inventing any time machine, so you just shake your head and hope you are right.

He nods along as if you had confirmed something again and you internally wonder why he would hold your opinion and answers so high. You barely know him, he hardly knows you too, what reasons did he have for trusting you? You could be lying, but then again what would you get from lying, it's not like you were intruding in his space.

'Or were you?' Your brain supplies and you run a hand through your hair, raking your fingers across your scalp as you groan out loud, the confusion and insaneness of the situation enough to make you feel like you were going to go crazy.

Namjoon surprised, swivels his gaze to you and frowns before he asks, concerned, "Hey, Are you okay? Do you need me to get you a glass of water? I know this is a lot to take in I can wait."

You are a little taken aback by how genuine his concern is, as you look up at him, you see his eyes on you. Squinted and full of worry, for you— a virtual stranger.

Seeing him genuinely concerned for your well being you feel a little bad about your earlier actions, and in response, you just give a small smile which you think comes out more as a grimace instead, but thankfully he doesn't comment on it.

Shaking your head with a soft, "I am fine." You urge him to continue, taking in a deep breath and settling yourself more comfortably on the couch; you have a feeling it's going to be a long night.

It has been a month since Namjoon had somehow managed to time-travel, to your time, a month since you two had started sharing the same roof over your heads.

You also were right back then because it was a long night.

Namjoon had apparently been testing the prototype of the time machine he was working on, the prototype still in its early stages wasn't fully developed, and Namjoon himself was still figuring things out with where he wanted to take that model.

On his part, it was just a side project, his little brain baby that he worked on in his spare time—something he had high hopes for but because of society and the opinions of his colleagues had been pushed back, and turned into a secret project. Not many believed that something like 'Time travel,' was possible and so they would ridicule Namjoon for his belief, mock him—call him crazy and delusional.

Your heart hurts when you think about that night now, because while you hadn't been close to Namjoon then, you are now.

In the time that you have known him, Namjoon has proven himself to be the kindest, most considerate and sweet man ever. His affection wasn't loud, and he didn't speak about how much he cared for you. Instead, his kindness and care shine through with his actions, the little things he does throughout the day that sometimes you miss at that moment, but later realise and appreciate when you think back.

His care comes through when he leaves behind a cup of coffee, made just the way you like it, every single morning on a tray outside your bedroom door with a glass of water. Or in the way, his soft voice whispers about constellations or other galaxies and paints another world as he sits on the floor beside your bed and helps you fall asleep, his hand running through the strands of your hair, just like your mother did when you were a child.

Those miscellaneous little acts of his were what kept pushing you to fall for him. You try to hold yourself back, try not to them affect you—but you know it's all in vain.

Your heart physically aches—clenches in on itself, when he looks at you with glittering eyes, orbs full of excitement and a sense of pride in his own self, when he makes a breakthrough with his repair of the prototype.

You want to be happy; you want to feel happy for him, but at the same time, you can't help but hope that his repairs don't go well, that instead, they take time. The time that you can then use to get to know him better because, good lord, do you want to know him better.

You know it's selfish to want that, he doesn't belong in the present time. Because while the land you both lived on might be same, nothing else was—not the time, not the people, nothing.

Remembering that little tiny detail, however, is hard, so so hard because you want him to be, you want him to belong to your world, to your time—to you.

Never before have you met a man who makes your heart race as Namjoon does. He makes you feel loved, cherished, happy and you selfishly want more of it, more of this happiness, more of him.

"Y/N have you seen the number four screwdriver?" You hear Namjoon yell out from your basement, his voice bellowing through the house to where you are sitting in the living room.

"Did you try the kitchen drawer?" You shout back, the back and forth of your dialogue from halfway across the house now a daily occurrence.

It's quiet for a moment, and then you hear steps padding across your creaky basement stairs, and then Namjoon is in the living room doorway, a full closelipped smile on display, passing you by on his way to the kitchen.

Your eyes follow his tall figure as he walks to the kitchen and you wince when you hear a crash, before a "Sorry about that," reaches you, and you just huff in exasperated fondness.

In the last month, you have come to realise that while Namjoon is a brilliant scientist, he is also an incredibly clumsy person, with him breaking things left and right. Just within this week, he has already shattered two of your coffee cups and a vase your mom had given you for your last birthday.

I've got to say, not too sad about the vase.

Your gaze snaps up when you hear him coming back to the living room, and you smile softly as his eyes lock with yours for a moment before he proceeds to go down the stairs to the basement.

It has been three months since you first moved in; two months since Namjoon came into your life. There wasn't much time between these two incidences, which was why you hadn't been able to fix your house and change the interior before he time travelled. And while you have slowly been making progress room after room with Namjoons help, that wasn't the case a month ago.

The basement, aka Namjoons lab, virtually abandoned for close to four decades was dusty and home to all sorts of insects and rodents; but still the same as he had left it. It was probably because of this reason that Namjoon hadn't initially noticed that his prototype had worked and that he had actually managed to time travel to the future.

The changes that you had made after moving in during the initial two months were minor enough that when Namjoon made his way to your kitchen that night a month ago, they went unnoticed by him; the dim lighting and lateness of the hour only helping to hide the changes more.

Since then you have slowly been working on repairing your home, fixing the roofs and the leaks, changing the creaky floorboards. It was a tough task, and some days you wonder if buying the land was more trouble than it was worth, but then you think of Namjoon and realise you would never have met him, if not for the house and then suddenly your fondness for the land grows.

The creaky floorboards, the chittering of mice running around in your basement, the musky smell of old wood, it all feel warm, almost cosy to you. Maybe it's just your lonely soul cherishing the company of Namjoons’ presence, but you don't dwell on the reasons, knowing full well that—that particular train of thoughts would result in you falling in love, and love wasn't ever kind to you.

Sighing you crane your neck, and let it fall onto the back of your couch, as your thoughts go to places you wish they wouldn't go.

As the clanks of Namjoon fixing up his lab, ring in the back you close your eyes and take a deep breath in, savour the moment—his presence, while you still can.

You hear Namjoons feet pad into the kitchen while you are cooking dinner, and you twist to shoot him a smile before you turn back to continue chopping the vegetables. You would ask him for help, but another thing besides elementary hand-eye coordination, that Namjoon wasn't good at was cooking.

While your new home is a little rough around the edges, it still doesn't deserve to be burned down into hot embers.

"Should I go ahead and set the plates out?" Namjoon asks from where he is leaning on the counter beside you, his eyes following the motion of your hands as you deftly chop the vegetables.

You hum and nod, a soft "Sure, Thank you," Slipping past your lips as you look back down to your chopping board to avoid looking at him for too long.

He is wearing a black muscle shirt, his muscular, coiled arms on display, with hints of his build chest and abbs showing through as the material hugs his body.

You turn your head and allow your hair to fall around your face, curtaining your blushing cheeks and wandering eyes, and take a moment to collect yourself.

It's a little ridiculous how much he affects you, how much his deep, smooth voice feels like molten gold to your ears, his smile and the crinkle around his eyes the brightest parts of your day.

You don't want to like him; if it was, something that was in your control you would prefer to hate him instead.

But the simple fact is that it wasn't—isn't in your control, not when he smiles only for his perfect dimples to pop out, not when he sits for hours beside you as you cry and stress over a chapter or lack of inspiration. Not when he then proceeds to tell you that you can do it because you are Y/N and amazing and he has complete faith in you.

Kim Namjoon is everything you have ever wanted in a man, kind, smart, hard-working, intelligent. It's like, instead of flesh and bones, he is moulded from stardust and magic, too perfect, too good to be true.

Your breath hitches and your heart skips a beat when you feel him lean closer to you, his front softly grazing against your back, as his long, tan arm stretches over your shoulder to the cupboard above and you grip the knife in your hands tighter, your body feeling light just by his mere proximity.

You breathe in to calm down, and it only makes things worse, because with every breath it's like you are breathing him in. The scent of his cologne spicy like cinnamon or spearmint, with an underlying tone of his own fragrance, something so primally Namjoon, that just the tiniest waft of it makes you feel faint.

When he finds whatever it was that he had been looking for, he pauses, inches a little closer to you, his entire front now pressed softly against your back. As he brings his hand back to himself, it grazes against your wrist then glides over your hand, lingers a little on your elbow, before it moves back to its owner.

His touch leaves fire behind in its wake, goosebumps rising over every inch of your skin and you bite your lower lip to stop any unwanted sounds from tumbling out.

It's when he is finally setting down the utensils that you allow yourself to breathe in fully, your chest aching and tight due to lack of oxygen, as you try to get your racing heart under control.

His voice rings across the kitchen as you hear him call you, to join him, and your reply comes in the form of a high pitched, "Yeah!"

Scrunching your nose at the glaringly obvious pitch change, you hope that he doesn't pick up on it. You aren't sure how much of this back and forth teasing you can take before you finally snap, but you have a feeling that the threshold isn't too far off.

You set the bowl of popcorn down on the centre table before you move to sit, your legs curling under you, as you throw a blanket over them to block the chilly night air. The open window allows in the cool breeze from outside, the subtle fragrance of wet mud and roses from your garden wafting in the living room along with it.

"Which movie?" Asks Namjoon as he takes the seat beside you, the cushion dipping under his weight as he slides himself under your shared blanket.

You bend to pick the bowl of popcorn before you hold it over the shared blanket and shrug, replying, "Surprise me."

You allow your eyes stray over to Namjoon. While he is busy picking a movie; you watch the way his brows furrow, that familiar jutted chin making an appearance as he concentrates on the task, his long post-shower hair falling in front of his eyes as messy, wet strands.

Your gaze snaps up to his eyes when you hear him snort, "Talk about ironic, Have you seen this movie before?" He asks with a tilt of his head towards the T.V, and you see the movie title, 'I'll Never Forget You,' a film by Roy Baker and you shake your head, the movie too classic for your usual taste.

Ever since you and Namjoon have started the tradition of watching a movie every night before bed, your repertoire of classic films has expanded, with him introducing you to many of his favourites, while you show him yours.

It's sweet, domestic, almost couply, and your heart tightens a little in your chest every time you realise that while the intimacy might seem real, it isn't the truth.

The inevitability of Namjoon going back to his time isn't lost on you either.

The movie starts, and you recline back onto your couch, the shared bowl of popcorn between you and Namjoon slowly growing lighter as the film progresses. Your fingers bump into each other; some accidentally, and some intentionally. The slide of your nails softly moving against his long, thin fingers, holding more of your attention than the movie.

Your fingers tangle as you both dig for the last few popcorns and you pretend it's not deliberate, but you can't deny that your heart races with the simple action.

The plot progresses, and your hands grow sweaty, your unease increasing as you realise just why Namjoon had called the movie ironic.

The plot revolves around a scientist, who goes back in time and takes the place of one of his ancestors. Fated to marry a woman called Kate, he slowly gets to know her, only to be more interested in her sister Helen. As he stumbles throughout the movie, making mistakes and saying things he shouldn't, dropping his knowledge of the future, Helen falls more and more in love with him.

You shift, uncomfortable and watch as he finally admits to Helen that he is from the future and shows her his basement laboratory, the similarity of the plot while not exact was still quite noticeable.

The end though is what leaves you frozen, your limbs feeling cold and unmoving, as your eyes take in the scene where the man goes back to his time and realises that when he left the past timeline, Helen's grief and sorrow, ate her inside until it finally became too much and took her life.

As the end credits roll, you stay frozen, your spine ramrod straight and your eyes unfocused and blurry, filled with tears that drip down to your cheeks.

You feel as Namjoon shifts to get up, but pauses when he sees you crying. You think you hear him call out your name, but your ears are ringing, and your head is buzzing, filled with far too many troubling thoughts.

Is that going to be me? Will my grief and sorrow cripple me too? You dread just the thought of him going back, how will you ever survive the reality?

Your body shudders, as a loud sob escapes you and you finally break down. Tears drip out of your eyes, leaving wet trails against the soft skin of your cheeks. You taste their saltiness on your lips, feel as your lungs burn due to lack of oxygen as shudder after shudder rack your body.

You hear Namjoon move, as he shifts closer to you and starts running his hands over your forearms, pulling you closer to him and you bury your face in the crook of his neck and let the tears wet his skin.

When another shudder racks your body, you try to take a breath in, your lungs clenching in on themselves, but you regret it instantly.

With every single broken inhale, you breathe more of Namjoon, his cologne, his very own essence, the scent a mixture of the wild and old books.

It's confusing and insane—and so painfully Namjoon. The duality of it much like its owner in the way that Namjoon would be the quietest, most focused person ever when he is working on something, but would turn goofy and clumsy the next second, would make you laugh so hard that your cheeks would hurt and you'd be left gasping for breath.

His presence is like a shot of heroin to your bloodstream, and you are afraid you might be addicted, maybe you are addicted. You must be because the thought of him not being there under the same roof, the same timeline kills you, makes you feel like clawing your heart out and throwing it away, so it would just finally stop hurting.

"Y/N, hey shush, it's a movie, it's okay, you are fine, shush, come here," Namjoon says and pulls you closer, and you suddenly want to scream, pull your hair out, throw a tantrum because doesn't he understand? Doesn't he get that it wasn't just a movie? That someday the scientist would be him and the heartbroken woman in love, you?

He runs his hand over your back, caresses your skin through the layer of your shirt, and you want to push him away, pull him closer. You want him to go away, want him to stay. You want to hold him close, keep him in your arms, house him in your heart so that you never lose him.

You bite your lip as a shudder racks through your body again, and sob out, "Why would you show m-me th-that?" Your words come out broken and in pieces at the end, and you bury your face deeper into his neck. Maybe if you push hard enough, you can push yourself inside him, and then you two can stay together forever.

You feel him tighten his arms around you as he brings you closer, his face coming to rest on the crown of your head, his chin rubbing small, slow circles on the top.

"I am sorry," He says, his voice is smooth—deep, and you feel as the words come rumbling out of his chest, feel the vibrations against your skin, and you clench your eyes closed, more tears slipping out.

"Hey shush, Y/N please don't cry, I am so sorry, I shouldn't have put it on, that was stupid of me, I—" Here he pauses, takes a breath in and you feel his chest moving against yours before he continues, "I should have known better."

You hear his apology, but it does nothing to soothe the burn in your chest because it's not like he has done anything to hurt you, all he did was show you a movie. It's your sentimental, stupid, lovesick heart that decided to take it personally.

"Can you look at me?" You hear him whisper close to your ear, and you tremble, your fingers gripping his shirt around his waist as you nod, the motion making your hair run against his chin and you feel as he shifts, drops a kiss on the crown of your head, his hands moving to rub over your arms.

He cradles your face softly, and his fingers softly caress your cheeks, wipe the tears away, before they make soft circles over your cheekbones. You melt at his touch, of course you do, because no matter what happens, regardless of how much you end up getting hurt at the end, the simple fact is that at this moment? Nestled between the strong, warm arms of the man that you are in love with, you'd choose the pain, the grief, the inevitable agony because at least you have him now. And maybe you are a little selfish—a little stupid, but you still don't want to push him away, not when you can have him now.

Eventually, your breaths start coming out a little clearer, your sobs no longer sending shudders down your spine, and you lay there drained. Tucked under Namjoons chin as he rocks you side to side in slow, gentle motions.

You smile against his neck because it reminds you so much of how your mom would calm you down when you were a child, and your heart squeezes a little in your chest at the realisation.

"Could you get me some water?" You mumble into the crook of Namjoons’ neck. Your words come out soft, and a little muffled but thankfully he understands them and moves to shift away from you, and you let him, moving back and bowing your head, as you wipe away the tear tracks and block your running nose.

'Great look Y/N. Real nice.'

Looking at your reflection in the glass of the centre-table, you wince when you see puffy, bloodshot eyes staring back at you.

The sound of a glass falling into the sink snaps you out of your thoughts, and you snort, Namjoon's clumsiness more endearing than anything else at this point.

"Joon, you good?"

"Yeah! uh, I'll be out in a minute, just stay there will you?"

"Will do!" And with that, you relax back into the cushion. The two of you had gotten the routine down pretty quick, while you were all for supporting each other, you had realised that your presence around him only increased his clumsiness further for some reason, which would then result into more broken dishes. And so, for the sake of both your crockery bill and Namjoons pride, you stay put.

As you shift to lay more comfortably on the couch, your eyes stray to your garden outside, being a writer wasn't exactly an office job. Most of your time was spent at home, usually in your balcony as you'd groan and painstakingly figure out plot details. So, you had grown your garden with a lot of care, much like anything else in your life. You took your time with it, cared and nurtured for the seeds until they finally bloomed to be the beautiful flowers that they were today.

You like taking your time with things, whether it's writing a book or forming friendships or even falling in love. You are patient, and you believe in taking the time to get to know other people, but with Namjoon, you are afraid instead of being too quick, you might be too late.

As you hear his feet pad across the house, towards you, your resolve strengthens.

The idea is crazy, sudden, not thought through at all, but you also know that if you give yourself any more time to think, you will cop-out. So, with your heart in your throat, you spin around and blurt, "I think I am in love with you, please don't go."

Looking back perhaps blurting out your undying love without any context whatsoever wasn't the smartest decision on your part.

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth as your eyes take in another broken glass and spilt water.

You force your eyes to not stray—to not travel up to the man who is standing in the middle of all the wreckage, surrounded by broken glass and spilt water. You don't know what the expression on his face is, what the thoughts whirring inside his head are, but at the moment you aren't sure if you want to know them either.

The sound of breaking glass had served as a wake up a call to you, whatever insane bravado that had led you to decide that confessing your feelings would be a good idea, sapping away with the loud sound and bringing you back to your senses.

Your fists clench when you hear Namjoon shift as he takes a step forward, in response you take two back.

"H-hey careful! There's glass all over the floor. You'll hurt yourself!" You squeak out, but Namjoon doesn't stop nor does he reply.

His feet pad closer to you, and the sound rings in the quiet of the room almost ominously.

You trip over your own feet in your haste to get off the couch and move away, nearly face-planting against the floor, but save yourself at the last second. When you push your head up, raking a hand through your hair and pushing the strands back, you realise that Namjoon is right there—in front of you.

"What did you just say?" He almost whispers, his voice coming out quiet and raspy—but to you? It feels loud, the whisper no different than if he had shouted it from the top of his lungs because you hear him loud and clear.

You just avert your gaze away and let the silence stretch on, did he not hear you? Why'd he shatter the glass then? And why doesn't he use a hearing aid if he's so selectively deaf?

"Y/N, look at me."

You don't, and instead, keep your gaze away as you move to side-step him, but before you can push past, his hands are down on your shoulders pushing you back into the wall.

You gasp, the breath knocking out of you when you feel your back hit the wall, the feel of his hands following close after, as one snakes around your waist while the other curves around your head, your hair bunching under his grip.

"Say it again." His voice, breathy and raspy breaks the stillness of the air around you, and you gulp as your gaze locks with his, the look in his eyes wild, almost feral.

His eyes are blown out and dark with lust, his lips parted as small puffs of his breath fall onto your lips, and you try your best not to shiver, try your best not to give away just how much he affects you.

When you still refuse to answer, his grip over your hair tightens, your head tilting back under the force, as his face inches closer.

Your eyes against your will fall to his lips—pink and full, and you unconsciously lick your own, wetting them as your teeth bury themselves into the soft flesh. His eyes follow the motion, and you think he groans a little deep in his chest, but when your eyes snap back up to his, they are looking into yours.

"Y/N, I am going to kiss you, push me away if you don't want me to," He whispers, as his hold over your hair grows softer, his other hand sliding up the side of your body, as both his hands tangle in the silky strands of your hair.

He inches closer as he closes the distance between the two of you, but despite his warning, you don't do anything and instead stay put, waiting, aching for him.

When his lips finally touch yours, you feel your hands rise without your accord as they slide over his torso. You feel the dips and curves of his chest muscles, sense his heart thudding under your touch, the warmth of his body heat curling around your skin, enveloping you and you push yourself closer, tangling your hands around the nape of his neck.

His lips are soft under yours, the touch slow, warm and sensual. He doesn't rush you and instead takes his time as his hands run over your back, caress the skin under before they pull you closer to him.

You're close, hairsbreadth close and there is no space between the two of you, your lips locked—your bodies touching each other, as your breaths mingle.

His lips leave yours, and you let out a soft huff as you twist to have them back on your own, but he pushes your head to the side, revealing the soft, smooth skin of your neck.

He exhales, warm breath hitting your skin, and you almost mewl out loud, goosebumps rising over the sensitive skin of your nape in response. He chuckles when you try to push your shoulder up before one of his hand shifts to hold your jaw softly, but with enough force to prevent you from moving.

The feel of his plush, plump lips on your neck leaves tingles running down your spine, and you can not help but shudder when those same lips part and close around your skin, sucking the flesh in. The moist, warm cavern of his mouth over your slightly cooler skin has you moaning out loud as your hands curl around his waist in pleasure.

His lips run over the skin of your neck—caressing, kissing and sucking the soft skin until it's left red and covered in a thin layer of his saliva. The much cooler air of the room hits your skin, and you tilt your head back; hit the wall behind softly as he kisses his way down your neck, to your chest.

His tongue leaves a wet, trail in its wake, and his nose dips under the depression of your collar bone before he breathes the faint smell of you in. His lips leave a soft peck there as he nuzzles the underside of your chin softly before your head is being pulled straight, your eyes meeting his dark, chocolate brown ones.

Now that you are closer and can look clearly, you realise there are flecks of hazel at the outer edges, the hazel and brown all swirling together to form a warm pool of tender, shimmering orbs.

This time you decide to take the lead, taking his hand in yours, you pull him to your room, him following behind as your fingers intertwine and the soft sound of his feet padding behind you rings in the quiet of the room.

As you slam the door to your room shut, you feel as Namjoons' hands again fall to your body, disentangling his fingers from yours, he glides them from your wrist to your elbows, forearms, then shoulders—your shirt bunching under his ministrations.

The feel of his touch is like a flame over your skin even through the layers of clothes, and you just tilt your head back, letting it fall on his shoulder, as you let him do what he pleases. His hands softly stroke over your waist, the motion slow and deliberate, but still over your tee and you arch, pushing your back into him as you try to feel more of his touch, more of him.

Namjoon takes the hint, drops a kiss onto your shoulder before his hands are under your knees and you are in his arms, bridal style, being carried over to your bed.

The mattress dips under your combined weight as Namjoon lays you down before he leans forward and kisses you. This time you meet him halfway, pushing and straining to take the lead as your tongue swipes across his lower lip asking for entrance, one he instantly grants. Tugging his hair strands softly, you hear him let out a groan from somewhere deep in his chest, before you are pulling him closer, your hands getting lost between the soft, long strands of his hair.

Your tongue glides over his, tangles and twists around as it pushes to lead. Strings of your shared saliva hang between the two of you when you lean back to rest and catch your breath, and you chuckle when you realise just how badly you had been holding yourself back for a while.

While you are catching your breath, Namjoon is busy getting rid of his clothes. Your hands itch to run over his chiselled chest, but you hold yourself back and appreciate the view for a second. In the dim light of the room, you look at Namjoons body and your breath hitches, as the realisation of just how fine he is, hits you all over again.

Long legs, thin waist, that rise to make way for wide shoulders and pectoral muscles to absolutely die for, not a single imperfection marred his smooth, tanned skin.

Every inch of him from his toes to the tip of his hair strands was perfect— or maybe you are just in love. Whatever the reason, you don't stop yourself, unabashedly raking an appreciative gaze over his body and let out a soft groan when he pulls his tee off of him, the action simple but incredibly hot to you in the moment.

‘‘Like what you see babygirl?” Namjoon smirks, now only in his boxers, as he gets down on his knees and leans over to unbutton your jeans, the button coming undone with a pop before he pushes the flap open and drops a kiss on the exposed skin of your navel.

You just humm, too wired with Namjoon so close to where you want, need him to be. Your exhales come out broken and your chest feels tight with anticipation.

You don't think anyone has ever made you feel this way before, you have barely even started, but for some reason, you can feel your wetness dripping out of you as the heat in your belly grows stronger.

A surprised squeak pushes out of you, and you arch off the bed, closing your legs when you realise Namjoon had pulled your panties along with your jeans and now you were naked, bare with nothing to hide just how aroused you were.

When your strayed eyes return back to Namjoons you find him standing there looking at you, you feel as his gaze rakes over you, slides over your skin like water and you blush, curl into yourself, a little self-conscious.

“You're the single most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Namjoon speaks, his voice soft and breathy, as his eyes find yours in the dim light, soft, glittering and brimming with affection. Looking into his eyes you feel reassured, confident in your own skin as you see how much you affect him and you push yourself up, sliding across the bed only stopping once you are at the edge.

With your hands on Namjoons waist, you push him back a few steps, getting down on your knees on the floor, you push your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and lookup. His gaze that was till now filled with nothing but affection and soft love for you was now once again growing dark, his chin jutting out, as his long, dark strands fell in front of his eyes, making him look like a dark, sinful dream.

One of his hands comes to your chin before it caresses the skin there and moves to the nape of your neck, sliding across your skin until it finally rests at the crown of your head—his touch leaving fire behind in its wake.

Still, with your eyes trained on his, you push the waistband down, the last piece of clothing on him, falling away under your hands with it.

His hand on your head tangles with your hair as he runs it through your strands, wrapping the ends around his hand like a yarn ball, and tugs.

Your neck arches from where it was inching closer to him before he tugs again, and you push yourself off of your knees and on your feet, as the tug becomes slightly painful. What you hadn’t accounted for before was how much you’d like that pain, the sting doing nothing more but arousing you further.

You try to take your tee off, but he tugs your hair again, and you let the ends drop, your eyes coming and finding him instead.

Your heart thuds and you wonder if he can hear it too. Your pulse racing, as your breaths come out more as soft pants than complete breaths. The foreplay, the tease, the promise of his touch has you feeling unbearably hot, and you feel as your wetness drips out of you and runs down your thigh.

“The shirt stays until I say otherwise.” Namjoon whispers before his lips are on you again. His hands sliding under your knees, as your legs go around his waist.

Picking you up, he lays you back on the bed before his lips leave yours and find purchase in the crook of your neck. His pillowy soft lips skim over your neck, leaving you breathless and you moan as they move down to your shoulder, his hands on your breasts kneading and squeezing the flesh.

When his lips finally fall to your breasts, you let out a broken moan, his mouth hot, wet and painfully good even through the thin layer of your tee. You internally thank your lucky stars that you had decided to forego your bra that day.

With only a thin, now wet piece of clothing between your sensitive bud and Namjoons mouth, the pleasure you feel makes your toes curl.

Your hands tangle in his strands, and his mouth moves over your shirt—biting, pulling and licking at the skin under.

Broken gasps and moans pour out of your mouth like a mantra, the feel of his other hand running down your side and stopping at your inner thigh, making you mewl as you ache for his touch.

Namjoon, however, has the patience of a saint, as even though you can feel how hard he is against your thigh, he doesn’t rush. Instead, taking his time as his lips rove over your breasts, kissing and sucking your skin under the tee raw.

You groan out in relief when his hands finally pull the ends of your tee over your head, and your skin feels the cool air of the room hit it, your nipples growing hard under the temperature shift.

When his lips finally do fall to your bare skin, it feels like heaven, your body so sensitive that, a simple tug on his side has you crashing into an orgasm—your back arching off the bed as a loud moan rips out of your body, waves of pleasure rushing through your bloodstream.

You hear Namjoon release your nipple with a 'pop' before he moves to slide further down your body, but you stop him.

Hands wrapped around his forearms, his muscles coiled and tight under your touch, you rasp out, “I want you, now.”

Your chest is still heaving from your last orgasm when you feel Namjoon position himself at your entrance, you moan when he bumps into you before he is sliding in and the moan turns into a loud groan.

Your legs cross behind his back as he drives into you and your walls clench, fluttering and squeezing him as your lips part, sighs and soft moans slipping out.

“Joon, oh god!"

You find his eyes in the dim-lit room, and you bring him closer, the hands on the nape of his neck pulling him to you, as you reach out to kiss him. The rush of affection and love that flows through your veins for the man above you almost makes you cry, the feel of his solid, warm body anchoring you to the reality of the moment. All your life all you had wanted was to be the one, someones forever after, you wanted the kind of love you dreamed of as a child, wrote about as an adult, and with Namjoon—with him? You think you might finally have found it.

His mouth is insistent on yours, parting your lips and dwelling in, licking and stroking every inch, sending wild tremors along your nerves as he becomes the only solid thing. Everything else around you falling apart, fading away until all you can feel is him.

Pulling back on a particularly deep thrust, Namjoon groans as your walls clench around him, pulling him in, every time he pulls back. You feel wet, warm and deliciously full as he thrusts in deep and hits your sweet spot, making your toes curl.

Moans and cries of his name fall off your lips like a prayer as he rocks into you and you feel the heat in your abdomen simmer, as an orgasm starts to build. Your hands grasp Namjoons back, and your nails scrape against the skin, making him growl out loud.

“Come for me baby, I’ve got you,” Namjoon whispers over your skin, his lips fluttering and forming the words over the juncture of your collarbone, leaving you with shivers running down your spine.

With a few more thrusts to your sweet spot, you are sent craning into your orgasm, your back arching as a scream rips out of you, and the world spins, as pure unadulterated euphoria flows through your veins.

Not too behind, Namjoon quickly follows with a loud groan, your name slipping past his lips, in a deep, guttural voice.

Your walls grip him tight, and you pull him closer into you as he comes, filling you up from inside, and you are left feeling full—sated.

As his orgasm rushes through him, the fall from the peak sending him reeling, he falls onto your chest, his face between your breasts and you run your hands through his hair, savour the moment, the feel of him still inside you, as close to you as anyone could ever physically be.

After a few seconds of catching his breath, he leans back a little to look at you, and you tilt your head up to meet him.

With only a few inches of space between the two of you, you take your time and look at each other, relish the closeness, let the reality set in. The silence stretches on, but it isn’t uncomfortable, if anything it’s nicer, like a warm hug, a space in time when you don’t need words because the touch of the other person is enough, more than enough.

“I love you.” You finally break the silence, your voice coming out low and a little hoarse, as your eyes gaze into his warm, chocolate brown ones. The very same eyes that you had looked into not too long ago and thought belonged to a stranger.

Now, you look into them and they look like coming home, the tiny little flecks of hazel at the edges which might go unseen by others, now so familiar to you .

That familiar close eyed smile of his that he has on now, as he hears you say that, the happy stretch of his full lips when he smiles, all of it fills you with so much love for him.

“I love you too.” Namjoon says, his deep, breathy voice forming the words that you had been longing to hear for some time now.

His eyes turn into two crescent moons when he sees you grin and a laugh spills out of him at seeing you get so happy after hearing his admission.

As you lay there, curled under him, you think you’ve finally got all that you had hoped for as a child, your own little perfect fairy tale. A house tucked away from the world, a garden full of roses, a job that you are passionate about, but most importantly, a man that you love—your own prince charming.

At that moment you feel like the two of you are infinite, the threads of your feelings for each other woven with your love—love that is far stronger than anything that time could wear and tear.

Cocooned under Namjoons warmth, with his arm wrapped tight against your waist, and your legs tangled with his, you think you finally understand why they say some infinities are bigger than other infinities.

Because even if you were galaxies apart, your soul would still always call out for Namjoon—would find him and then would tether itself to his forever, timelines and distances be damned.

Love ya, Thanks for reading!

—ditttiii ♡

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vanillann · 5 years ago

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flashback (spencer reid x f.reader)

based on season 9 ep 12, I might make a few different parts to this please let me know what you all think.

warning: swearing

flashback masterlist

2004

“I hate handcuffs.”

Penelope sat beside me, her black fingers tapping on the table. I played with the end of my large sweater, the ends frayed from the long-term nervous habit.

“I can’t believe I got us caught,” I watched as the light above shone down on my hand cuffs.

“It wasn’t you, I shouldn't have gone on the server until you got done asking questions.”

Penelope looked over at me quickly, her pissed face morphing into a gentle smile.

Suddenly the door behind us opened, a tall dark hair man walking the room. He wore a suit and a stern face.

I pulled off the frayed ends of my sweater more, the thought of going to jail was killing me.

“We’ve got you Ms. Garcia, Ms. (L/N).”

“That’s what you think, Mr. Suit.”

I rolled my eyes, this wasn’t the time to be witty.

“We’ve found multiple of your illegal servers and Ms. (L/N) coercing many of your victims,” he looked over at me, I felt myself pull back into my chair more.

“Sorry?”

Garcia chuckled slightly, looking down at me in my seat.

“This isn’t a sorry moment, both of you could be going to jail.”

I felt my eyes fill with tears, the idea of orange jumpsuits and a cell was the last thing my parents expected of me.

“Well shouldn’t the cosmetic company go down with us.”

Penelope spoke with confidence, something I wish I had right now.

“Unfortunately what they were doing wasn’t illegal.”

Penelope only pulled at the cuffs slightly before looking back up at the man.

“Okay Mr. Suit-”

“It’s Agent Hotchner and I’m here to offer you both a job for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Huh?”

The man shoved his hands in both his pockets, looking over both of us. Suddenly the handcuffs around my wrist weren’t the biggest concern.

“Ms. Garcia, you are the fastest and most efficient hacker we have ever seen, you could run circles around our last tech analysis,” Penelope only shrugged and looked up at him with a smirk.

“-and you Ms. (L/N) have impressive interrogation skills with degrees in Psychology, Sociology, and Criminal Justice.”

I felt a blush cross my cheeks, knowing taking those classes on the side paid off in some way.

“I don't think my friend and I want to teach you how to do your own job.”

I wanted to scream, I loved my best friend more than anything but she was throwing away a ‘get out of jail free” card, one we really needed right now.

“You would help us hunt psychopaths.”

Penelope looked over at me, the smirk still across her face and she looked back at Mr. Hotchner.

“We are psychopaths.”

“Excuse me?”

Penelope deadpanned me, while the agent in front of us spoke.

“You aren’t, in the hacker community you are known as “The Black Queen” and “The Pure Empress”. Both of you are known for talking down cruel organizations.”

Penelope and I both just looked at each other. The contrast between my tan sweater and her black corset would make anyone but us laugh.

“All I need is a resume for Human Resources, or I’ll hand you the jumpsuits.”

“Pen, I love you but I don’t like jumpsuits,” I whisper to her, knowing the man could still hear me but didn’t care one bit.

“Well we don't normally bring our resume to things like this, but hand us our bags and we will write down a few things we know.”

I jumped in joy within my seat, the idea of a new job that wasn’t illegal made me so excited.

Suddenly the door opened, a taller darker male walked in with a taller skinny man beside him. They walked in with our bags in their hands, serious face on.

The first man had on a light suit and his head shined slightly under the light while the second man held my bag and had his hair slicked back.

The one man placed my bag in front of me, my hands going straight to the latch on the side where I kept my notepad.

“We went though and took all their tech gear.”

I scribbled down my degrees on the paper, not knowing what else to do.

“Do you have the key?”

The man standing beside him pulled out two, looking between the two of us.

Mr. Hotchner left the room, both the men walking over to un-cuff us.

“You are very lucky,” the man unlocking Garcia spoke.

“You look like the lucky one, Mr. Calvin Klein.”

I slapped the side of her shoulder, her name quickly fell from my lips with a stern tone.

“I got us out of jail.”

She pointed a perfectly painted finger at her, the smirk took over the whole face now.

“I better be the happiest person in the world in 10 years or I’m blaming you.”

2014

Everyone sat around the woman as she talked, the words sexual harassment made me giggle, knowing where this was going.

Spencer looked down at me from where he sat on my desk, the confused little look he gets evidence on his face.

“Phrases like baby girl aren’t appropriate in the workplace.”

I covered my mouth as I looked over at my friend, her face dropping quickly.

The woman then continued with the slideshow, my finger pointed at Pen the entire time.

Spencer hit the side of my combat boot, the wicked smile on his face as he pointed to the slideshow.

The screen now read “Appropriate Work Attire”, the sight of nice suits flashed across the screen.

“Combat boots and band tee shirts are not appropriate for the workplace.”

I looked down at the Led Zeppelin shirt that I wore with a basic black blazer over it.

Suddenly Penelope whipped around in her chair, looking at me with her tongue out.

The sound of Penelope text went off, her face dropped while she waved her hand over at me. I looked up at Spencer, him already watching me with a smile. He quickly shook his head and looked up at Garcia.

I stood up and walked over to her, the woman looked at both of us telling us to sit down.

“I’m so sorry,” Garcia repeated.

“I’m not,” I smiled as Garcia pulled me over to the elevator.

Hotch stood with his stern face, holding his phone in his hand, this wasn’t a good sign.

“I can’t believe they called my band shirts out!”

Spencer laughed as he grabbed my bag from over my shoulder and handed in to the co-pilot.

“I mean we do work for the FBI, they probably expect a lot more appropriate outfits.”

“They shouldn’t have high expectations for me. I’m the same girl that tricked the whole 5th floor by putting whoopee cushions in their chairs,” Spencer only shook his hand as he hit his shoulder with mine.

Pen coughed from the steps of the jet, a wicked smile on her face.

Spencer ran his hand down the back of his neck while he rushed past Garcia. I went to follow him but Pen stuck her arm out.

“When are you going to tell him about the mega crush you have?”

I looked up at her, the bright pink lipstick was in a huge smile. I played with the end of my blazer, looking down at my shoes.

“I’m not telling him Pen, it’s not worth losing him.”

She only turned around and pulled me deeper into the plane.

The team sat around in their normal spots, the couch free for Pen and I both. We quickly took a seat and pulled out the tablet and hard copy, Spencer always made me carry one around.

I read through the file, my memory never forgot this case. Suddenly Hotch came on, already talking about the case.

“Well it seems Star Chambers really like secretive,” Pen nodded her head, the plane laughing from the ground.

Spence came back from the coffee machine, a tea in one hand and a coffee in the other. He handed me the tea, reading the hard copy from over my shoulder.

“It sounds like Sam Russell fit the profile perfectly.”

JJ words broke me from the small daze I fell into.

Morgan looked over at me and nodded.

“This is the case that got you caught, right?”

I looked over at Penelope, her little small smile made me look back over at the rest of the team.

“Yeah I got all three of us caught, but I didn’t know he was a killer at the time.”

Spencer just simply placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me.

“It’s all in the past, don’t make yourself have flashbacks.”

part ii

flashback tag list:

@snitchthewitch @summer-writes @mortallythoughtfulgurl

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #bau #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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closer-stars · 4 years ago

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Gut Feeling (8)

Member: San Genre: Fluff, Feel good stuff Word Count: 10k (I’m SO SORRY) Content: food. Reunion. Tying loose strings. #Maturity. I think I provided enough hints as to where this is going Note: FINALLY FINISHED PART 8. there’s only two parts left. :D This went through a lot of stuff because of writer’s block and a thing called a short attention span. I’ve proofread this a number of times but I’ll continue to do so, especially once i update this with links in 24 hours. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @yeotlny @seoultraveller @shinyddeonghwa @frankenstein852 @miniyeo @hwaberrykiwi @jeongyunhoed

Part 7

San’s gaze stays glued to you, unwavering, as he takes in your visage. Your new hairstyle accentuates your cheekbones, you look healthier, happier even. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were doing better without him.

“Hello!! Surprised to see me, Manager Bae?” You ask in a playful tone. Your attention shifts to the eight boys who look at you with slack jaws and wide eyes. “Surprise?” You say softly, a bit of embarrassment rushing to your cheeks. Guilt washes over you when you remember you never said your goodbyes.

A few moments of heavy silence sinks in on everyone and it was Yunho and Wooyoung who break the silence, tackling you into a hug. “We miss you so much!” You weren’t sure who exclaims it, you just knew the hug and the shrill pitch shocks you. This breaks the rest of the boys from their daze and they start to whine at you for leaving them with no warning, some asking you how you’ve been.

Maybe things haven’t changed.

You laugh, hands reaching to pat their heads, just like how they liked it when you worked with them. “Guys, we can catch up during your down time. Right now I need to introduce you to the director then bring you to your dressing rooms.” Your eyes skirt over to San, giving him a double take.

He’s changed, matured, and he looks a lot like a man now. He always looked like a man but there was something about him now that had your gaze lingering at him for a moment. You snap yourself out of it and bring them to the director. After the formalities and quick rundown of the process, you bring them to their dressing rooms. San is the last one to enter as he lingers around you for a moment.

You’re at work, you remind yourself. “Yes? Is there something I can help you with?” You ask, and you kind of hate yourself for your voice changing in pitch, your default customer service voice as you’d like to call it.

It’s how even your work voice makes the corner of his lip twitch in amusement. He looks at you properly for a moment and his lips break into his bright grin. “I’m alright, thank you.”

You hate yourself for your heart fluttering at his smile but you thank yourself for keeping your composure. At his words, you nod and let him enter the dressing room. You stay with them in the dressing room, because you know the boys well enough to know that when they have questions, they’re persistent.

Hongjoong was the first one to speak up. “You never told us you did production too!” He could’ve asked for your help in his music if he knew earlier. You never really mentioned your experience in production, all you did tell them was that you’ve been in this field long enough to know a little bit of everything.

You watch his make up artist work on his eyes for some time, then shift your attention to the rest of the boys. Seonghwa asks you about how the production work will be while adjusting his clothes for the first set. Black really did suit him. You look at your clipboard, flipping through the papers for his script and art direction. You decided to give everyone a rundown of the general gist of this shoot. You were sure they already knew of the story line, shit, you can actually pinpoint which parts of the story line were your suggestions during the meetings back when you worked with them.

It’s going to be a whole day shoot for the first day while the second day focuses on all the night shoots, all of which were going to be long days. Quite frankly, you feel a little bad that they’re filming at the wee hours of the day or end when the sun’s about to rise. It’s all part of the job, you get the good and you get the bad. It’s just a matter of how much you love what you’re doing or how much food you can put on the table.

One by one, you bring the members to their set, letting them discuss the scenes to be shot with the director while taking a few runs until both are satisfied with the final output. It takes several tries until both sides are satisfied with how the rolls come out. In between the planned shots were impromptu acting and dancing from the members, you wonder if this was San’s doing thanks to Answer.

Speaking of, San was the last to leave the dressing room, the other members were already retouching their hair and makeup for the next shoot. On the way to the director, he asks how you’ve been.

“Well, I’m doing better now.” You start. “We can catch up after the shoot, if you want.” You advise as the two of you get closer to the director.

“Same number?” He asks, his heart slightly racing. He wants to reason that it’s because it’s a new production house and nerves.

“Yep.” You affirm casually. “Let’s get to work first?” You gesture, switching to formal speech as you approach the director first. You introduce him to the director, letting them do a quick runthrough of what the director wants from San for this scene.

Once all of that is done, he’s about to step onto the set before he looks back at you. “Are you going to watch me?”

It takes a moment for you to reply but you don’t hesitate this time. “Just like old times, Sannie.”

Something about that makes him flash a bright smile, a complete contrast to his darker, mature look. He stays where the director tells him to first. Once he gets the cue, he starts to move, getting into character a lot quicker than you thought before the staff could even use the slate.

Heeseok, the director, notes that you’re lingering around to watch San do his thing. “You can stay, you know.” He muses. His words make you look at him in surprise. You haven’t been with this production house as long as most of them have so you’ve kept to yourself for the most part. “I’m serious. You’ve worked with these boys before us right? At least, let yourself loosen up around them. It’s been awhile after all.”

You wonder how lucky you were when it came to finding a work environment as understanding as this. At his words, you take up the offer and step a little closer, watching San with and without the help of the monitor.

He’s improved greatly. He clearly has the experience to back up his professionalism. A gaze sharper than a dagger, colder than ice was given to the camera. You can’t help but have your breath taken away by how intense it looked. The shock wears off when you see how mischievous Wooyoung becomes next to you as he tries to make San break out of his character.

Things haven’t changed.

You watch Wooyoung pull the weirdest antics that would’ve made San probably want to punch the other. “You really think the boys would break after all these years?” You ask him, incredulous. The male looks at you, grinning ear to ear.

“Of course! It’s fun pulling all sorts of tricks to see which one makes them break. The last time was Yunho when I started dancing to one of our earlier covers while I was wearing a multicolored outfit.” He explains. You have a rough estimate of when that would be. Even if you left your job to be their manager and their publicity team, you still watched them from a distance. You still buy their albums too.

You shake your head, still entertained by his antics, before shifting your gaze back to San. He approaches the two of you and you figured that he was going to review how his performance looked on screen while the stylists retouch his makeup and dab his sweat away. “How did I do?” San asks the two of you as he takes a sip of water.

“As expected, you did great.” You return without missing a beat. Wooyoung agrees too but in his typical fashion of a praise mixed with sarcasm.

San catches onto Wooyoung’s antics and scoffs, unfazed by the other’s jokes. The two of them monitor his performance closely. Already, San takes note of which ones he needs to fix in the next shot. Now that they were busy, you thought it would be a good chance to slip off and check on the other members.

When San straightens up after watching his performance closely, he spots you about to leave. “Are you leaving me with Wooyoung?” He asks as if miffed by the fact he would be left alone with his own member.

You look over your shoulder, surprised at how bad he wants to have you watch him. “I want to check on the others, to see if they need anything..” You explain, unsure of what to make of this situation.

He has to admit you have a point but he wanted you to watch him still. Despite that, he let you do your work; you aren’t their manager anymore.

--------

The music video shoot goes on for the entire day, and will continue to do so in the next few days. You assume that the earliest you’ll finish is in three days, this being based on how the boys have been working earnestly. But like any other shoot, no matter how hard you work or how smart you work, delays still happen. The three days eventually turned into six days due to unforeseen delays along with everyone needing rest. Thankfully for both sides, the work didn’t seem to feel like too much of a burden.

In between the shoots, the photographer managed to take a few shots for the album’s photobook. A lot of b-rolls but that was fine, the more the better especially with how lore heavy this comeback seemed to be.

By the last group shot, the director finally yells cut. “Cut! Good job everyone! We’re finally finished.” Heeseok bellows out much to the relief of everyone on set. In response, the boys return the same phrase, bowing to everyone in respect and gratitude. Everyone slowly starts packing up, those who have been on their feet for hours on end find somewhere to sit to rest their weary bodies; you included. You find a corner to drop yourself onto, your hands gently massaging the knots on your legs.

You look at the time. You won’t be able to get home until sunset you assume, as you find yourself feeling guilty to even consider heading home now while everyone else is helping each other pack up the equipment. Once feeling returns to your legs, you pull yourself up to help out in packing away the equipment.

You were already done with half of the stands when your higher ops realize you were still on set, cleaning up. “What are you still doing here?” Hwayoung asks you, eyes wide with an array of emotions behind them.

The surprise and concern makes you feel a little anxious, wondering if you did something wrong. “I wanted to help pack up…” You return softly, rubbing the back of your neck after keeping the last light stand away.

“You should be home by now!” She chides. “You’ve been on set the entire time, leaving late and arriving on the dot. You need to get some rest!” She continues, patting you on the back.

“But, what about you guys..?” You ask as you look around. The bigger set pieces were going to be dealt with in the following days as it’ll still be used for the jacket photos if you remember right.

“Leave it to us. We’ll be alright, go home and get some rest. You’ll be needed back on set after tomorrow.” She reassures you. You look at your co-worker who agrees with her, echoing her sentiments about how you’ve been on set day in and day out. You really couldn’t fight them regarding their points. Somewhere along the way, you went from wearing jeans to joggers for the ease of moving around. With that, you nod at their argument.

“I’ll get going now. Please take care too!” You say, bidding them goodbye before heading to where your belongings were.

On your way out of the staff’s room, you figure you should bid goodbye to the boys. It only seemed proper after your surprise departure from the company. You knock thrice on their door, peeking in carefully. Thankfully they were already dressed in their regular clothes. “Hey, just wanted to drop by and say that I’m heading out.” You state as soon as the boys catch sight of you.

“Do you want to eat with us?” Hongjoong asks. It takes all of San’s control to not trip over his own bag at Hongjoong’s offer. Not only do old habits die hard, so do old feelings.

At his invitation, you raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you guys tired after the continuous shoots?”

“Well, we are but..” Wooyoung trails off, taking the chance to stretch. “... food after a long day always tastes great.” He had a point there.

It takes a while for you to decide, it has been way too long and you’re sure the boys have a lot to talk about with you. That also depends on how awake you could be in the midst of everything. “Are you guys free tonight?” You ask. You know yourself better by now: eating while sleep deprived isn’t a good idea and the way home can be an issue.

“Yeah, their entire schedule for the next few weeks is just centered around the upcoming album.” Manager Bae returns as he hoists his bag up over his shoulder.

“If you guys have the energy later tonight, we can eat dinner together. I don’t think I can last long enough to eat with you guys for lunch then head home.”

“Then it’s settled, we can meet later tonight for a meal.” Hongjoong returns, clearly excited to be able to bond with you and the rest of the members. Just like old times (sort of).

-------

The ride back to their place was bustling with energy. The members were exhausted yes, but the fact they got to work with you again overrode the need for rest.

“Hyung! Why didn’t you tell us that they’d be there too?!” Mingi whines. He was one of the few who took your departure a little harder, if not just as hard as San.

Manager Bae flashes an apologetic smile, though it can’t be seen by them, they hear it in his voice. “Sorry guys, they told me to keep it a secret.” He explains how you were the recipient of the PR team’s email along with how you did everything you can to make sure this deal pulls through. You even contacted the managers (as friends) to make sure that they told the members nothing about you yet.

You were also aware of how they took your departure. Though this part wasn’t from the managers, rather from Seonghwa.

“If we can’t have dinner with them, can we at least have a meal with them one of these days?” Wooyoung pipes up. The eldest members knew that one way or another, you’d make sure to have a meal with them. You confessed how much you missed them in the months following your leave. They understood why you had to leave too. They can’t hold it against you.

“It’ll happen. They have a soft spot for you guys.” Manager Bae returns with a chuckle. The nine of them arrive outside their apartment and decide to catch up on sleep before grabbing something for dinner tonight.

--------

[ You to Hongjoong ] Are you guys still up for dinner? It’s on me.

Hongjoong looks out of his room and the boys were already getting ready to eat out. “Boys, dinner with them tonight, yes or no?”

[ Seonghwa to You ] Everyone’s ready already. Where to?

You send them the address, along with the menu. As you wait for their thoughts, you walk around the area.

[ Hongjoong to You ] See you in that restaurant! The boys are excited LOL

Somehow you can picture just how excited they were, and how chaotic the apartment was since the invite.

[ You to Hongjoong ] hehe, see you in a few then.

--------

You wait outside the restaurant, occasionally looking up from your phone to look for them. They never really said what time they’d arrive. A part of you wonders if they moved elsewhere now, it would make sense if they did, especially with how big they are now. You’re stuck in your thoughts again, staring into space despite looking as if you were looking at your phone. You hear a familiar voice call out to you and that snaps you out of your thoughts.

You look up from your phone, blinking a few times to regain your surroundings. You’re greeted by a Mingi that’s already speeding towards you. Fortunately, you were quick enough to catch him in your arms this time. “Oof--! Hey there Mingi.” You greet carefully, patting his back lightly.

Despite him being the more laid back member, he was more vocal with his emotions. You were glad to see him looking better than before. “We missed you!” He exclaims, pouting slightly at you.

An apologetic smile graces your features at his actions. It sometimes slips your mind that they were still kids when you met them. At least in your eyes they were, even with the close proximity in age. “Let’s continue the talk inside? You guys are probably hungry.” You raise, as you let them enter the premises first.

“They didn’t even eat prior to this.” Hongjoong quips with a snort. You look at them then at him in mild concern.

“Did you eat though?”

“He didn’t.” Seonghwa cuts the conversation as he drifts inside, walking past a dumbfounded Hongjoong. “It’s okay, I forgot to eat too.”

“That makes all of us then.”

--------

The dinner goes without a hitch. For the most part it was you and Seonghwa who were cooking the meat over the grills.

There were times where when you put the cooked pieces of meat on their plates, some of the pieces you cooked would appear on your plate. “Huh?” you mumble, when you catch the culprit’s hand under your line of sight. You’re able to catch the direction of where the hand retreats. It’s San. You look at him while keeping track of the sizzling meat over the grill. “Did you at least eat?”

“Yeah but you haven’t.” He shoots back, gesturing to the cooked meat on your plate.

“Let me cook this time.” Yunho offers, he doesn’t take no for an answer as he takes the tongs from your hands. Now that you were empty handed, you could finally sit and get some food into your system.

San says something that you don’t catch so you turn to San’s direction, only to be greeted by a small ssam in front of you. You stare at him for a moment, opening your hand for it but he pulls back at such action. This puts a confused frown on your face which doesn’t faze him. “I said, ‘say ah’.” He even goes the extra mile by opening his mouth for you to mimic.

Stubborn boy.

You roll your eyes but appease his wish to have him feed you. As expected, the food in this restaurant doesn’t disappoint. The other members glance at San, somehow amused at how he acts despite the time apart. None of them were caught by you, too busy eating your share after a long day.

The rest of the night goes like that, just eating and drinking (non-alcohol because of their schedule) with the boys as they tell you stories of what you’ve missed.

“Seonghwa doing rock climbing? Again?” You repeat, incredulous and rather concerned for his safety. You stare at the male at the other side of the table who looks at you as if he heard nothing. Of course he looks unfazed, the other members were praising him for having gotten through it despite his phobia. He says nothing to your question, instead taking his sweet time eating his sherbet. At his lack of a reply, you just snort at him and continue to eat your ice cream.

It’s hard to deny that he didn’t have feelings anymore. Not when he looked at you with warmth as you recount what has happened since you left. Yunho and Seonghwa could clearly see how he felt about you but say nothing except to snap a few shots to tease him with later. Maybe this explains his lack of interest in dating.

You did your best to tell them your experiences and how things have been after everything. The few months of just you being on your own, doing side jobs to keep supporting yourself as you did some reflecting. The succeeding months of landing the job you have now. “I feel happier here.” You admit, while managing them was a lovely job in itself, the fact you get to help create visual ideas into reality is something you can’t replace. “Despite all that, I still bought your albums.” You add, showing them a photo of their albums still on display at your place.

“Oh you moved?” Wooyoung notes.

Sharp boy, you thought. “Yeah, I moved elsewhere for my job, easier to get there too.” You confess. San leans a little closer looking at your photo to see how Wooyoung noticed such a detail. Though it’s not much, he could definitely tell you had plans of staying in that apartment for a longer time. The walls were decorated, their albums were on shelves, proudly displayed their achievements, even some of your jackets were resting over your chair too. It just looked so you.

Hongjoong looks at the time, “Guys, it’s getting late..” He hated having to cut the fun especially with a dear friend. The two of you catch the dejected looks on their faces. Looks like it’s up to you to save the situation.

“We’re still seeing each other for your album jacket shoot.” This slightly lifts their spirits but it’s still not the same as being able to hang out with them as friends. “We can have another dinner after the shoot. Celebratory dinner for finishing something big, y’know?” You admit.

“Is the dinner on you?” Yeosang cheekily asks.

“What are you talking about? I already paid for this dinner.” You return with a snicker. As proof, you raise the receipt up to their eyes, of course, you cover the price from them otherwise they’d pester you to no end.

“What?! How did you--” San asks, clearly not remembering you leave the table to pay for the meal.

You don’t reply to his confusion, opting to just shoot him a wink at your stealth. He shouldn’t have felt his heart skip at that but he did. Now that all of that is out of the way, you, Hongjoong and Seonghwa stand up, getting ready to leave, much to the dismay of everyone else.

San takes his time to stand up, shrugging on his blazer after he stretches. “Looks like you ate well.” Your comment catches him off guard, doing nothing but confuse him. With how lost he looks, you take a piece of tissue and wipe his cheek. Just like old times. “You had a bit of sauce that somehow landed there.” He wishes he could walk you home like old times.

Now that all of you were outside, goodbyes and hugs were exchanged with you. The amount of times you had to reassure them that you haven’t changed your numbers was insane that the two eldest members had to show proof to back you up. “Gah! You guys need sleep more than I do! I’ll see you boys in a few days' time.”

They wait with you until you manage to hail a taxi before they make their own way back. While everyone was recounting the stories you told them and the stories they failed to share, San was in his own thoughts.

[ San to You ] Thanks for today. Everyone misses you.

[ You to San ] I missed you guys too, really. Get some sleep okay? You guys deserve it.

[ San to You ] Got it! Sleep well too ^^

His last message makes you smile at your phone, even at his mature age, his eye smile never seems to change. He hasn’t lost his optimism either it seems. You let yourself absorb the good energy from tonight for a few moments before keeping your phone away, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding this entire time.

Maybe hanging out with them outside work wasn’t such a bad idea.

---------

The past few hours leading up to the shoot had the boys teasing San. “Guys, come on. I don’t have feelings for them anymore.” He shoots back, half heartedly. He still does.

“San, my guy, you had honey dripping from your eyes during dinner with them.” Yunho points out before sipping his coffee.

“I didn’t!”

Seonghwa just brings out his phone to show the photo he and Yunho took that night. It was obvious and there’s no denying from San about it. At the sight of the photo, he shuts up and eats his meal. Hongjoong watches his members act like young kids again but he holds no tension in his body this time. They’ve hit the point in their careers that any romantic relationship they have won’t heavily affect them. “San, just give it a shot this time.” He suggests carefully. This causes the former to look at him with wide eyes. The look prompts the older to explain himself. “San, you still have feelings for them. You know why they turned you down back then. Now that the two of you are in your respective fields-- and have grown, why not give it a shot? If they still say no then,” he shrugs. “Let them go. If they say yes this time, at least you gave it a shot right?”

San’s ears are burning at this point. He wanted to ask you out, properly this time. He didn’t want to regret expressing his feelings but he didn’t want to be selfish about it either. Was Seonghwa right all this time?

“For everyone’s sake, San just ask them out after the shoot. I don’t think I can handle you whining about them any more.” Wooyoung snips. His words though sounding rather sharp, held no malice in them. They genuinely just want him to be happy beyond their passion to be on stage and perform.

“Fine, fine but if it doesn’t work out?”

“Hongjoong hyung and I will take ten shots of soju.”

“I didn’t agree to that!”

--------

The boys enter the venue, now brightly lit as compared to their music video shoot. Their creative team always pulls through with these ideas and seeing your production house make them into reality is mind blowing.

On one side of the building is lit up with various plant life and neon lights, very reminiscent of their older eras. A few meters away was another one, just as well lit though a little muted compared to the other. To the boys, they knew what this set was a reminder of, it would only mean that it would take a few hints before the fans understood what part of their concept this would be. The last one seems to be unfinished, the backdrop still rolled up with the spotlights still switched off.

“Crap, how many versions are we selling this time?” Yeosang asks, dumbfounded by the amount of set designs in front of them.

“Four versions this time.” The answer shocks all of them, surprised to see you behind them. “Did you guys get some good sleep?” You ask as you try to hide the snicker from their fright. Once they get over the initial fright, you gesture for them to follow you to the dressing rooms. There you’ll give them a rundown for today’s agenda. “If you noticed, the third set isn’t done yet. It’s easy to assemble but we wanted to know your opinions on it. The last one is ideally a free-for-all type of thing. Considering that this album’s going to be released near your fanbase’s anniversary, this is more visually very relaxed, just have fun. This version of the album also will carry the heaviest lore so…” You shrug. Their marketing team really knows how to rake in the cash. “We can have the set be up for today or we can save it for once all of you are done with the first two sets.”

The members look at each other, merely communicating their opinions with raised brows, shoulders and the like. “Can we save it for after the first two sets?” Hongjoong asks. Their politeness never really went away even despite being seniors in this industry.

With that said, you nod. “Consider it done. Now get changed. The clothes in the back are labelled depending on which set they’re for.” You gesture to the back. “The photographers have the mood boards with them for visual aid for you. I’ll wait for you guys outside the dressing room.” With that, you bid them goodbye for now before leaving the room to talk to the teams for the agenda.

Now that the boys were left to their own devices with their stylists, they looked through the clothes. They decided to just split into two teams, just to make it easier for everyone. It seems that even their stylists weren’t surprised with their decisions as they immediately got to work.

---------

One by one, the members trickle out of the room, leading them to their designated sets as they get to know the photographers. Some members were already restless inside the dressing room when they visited the others who were having their photos taken.

There was music playing overhead to fill in the silence along with making sure to keep the productivity going for everyone. As Seonghwa has his photos taken in the muted set, San and Yunho are by the side, singing and dancing goofily, just to see how strong his control is. If that doesn’t work, they would look at how his photos come out, even helping out the photographer by giving advice to Seonghwa. As expected of the member, the photos come out well, even the candid ones, much to the pleasant surprise of the photographer.

On the other set is Mingi. He somehow still manages to pull off the look while being with various plant life and neon lights. Hongjoong monitors his photos while Jongho is off to the side, taking photos of them as well. From time to time, Mingi would ask the photographer how the photos were coming and how he should position himself. While the photographer has no complaints, Hongjoong asks if he can try to suggest something. The former allows it so Hongjoong asks Mingi if he can try opening himself, instead of curling in this time. The members know the overall plot of their concept but Hongjoong knows it the best without spoiling anything to the fans.

“What do you think so far?” Yeosang asks you as he’s the last to leave the room. You look over at him and you can easily tell that he had just woken up from a quick nap.

“Good sleep?” you return lightly. “So far so good: Yunho and San joking around, Jongho taking photos, Hongjoong monitoring closely… hey where’s Wooyoung?” You ask once you realize the missing member (and noise).

“Still in the dressing room, he wanted to grab a few more minutes of sleep.” Yeosang says. It’s only then that you realize how deep his sleep was from his tone.

“Looking forward to really push the doberman agenda huh?” You muse, once you take note of what he’s wearing.

He looks down at what he’s wearing then flashes a proud grin. “Of course, even until now the fans consider me a maltese.”

You walk with him to his designated set, keeping away from the camera their manager holds to grab some footage for their youtube. “Do you guys still bark for the fans?”

“Only Yunho and San do.”

That honestly doesn’t surprise you. “Anyways, I’ll leave you guys to it. Manager Bae seems to be recording for your youtube channel.” You say, patting his back, as you catch Yunho and Seonghwa talking about their album. You wanted to stay out of view, even though you knew they’d blur your face it’s for your comfort too.

“Oh yeah,” he starts. “San’s looking at us.” You shoot Yeosang a look to which he shrugs. “Best to talk to him before he starts bouncing around.”

At his suggestion, you steal a glance at the male who’s now pestering the two boys talking to the camera. Seeing that he wasn’t doing what Yeosang had just said, you return your eyes to the male, confused. He returns your look with his usual mischief. Goddammit.

Whatever, you tell yourself as you make your way to the photographer, checking in on the material he has and if he needs a break. As he shows you the photos, both of you are pleased with how they all come out. He even shows a photo of Seonghwa that he caught shocked by the propped figure behind him. “Yunho’s next but I can wait.” He tells you, stretching his sore shoulders and arms.

“You’re doing great. Hopefully we can finish the shoot in two days.” The two of you wait for Yunho to finish his thing with the members before calling him over for his shoot. Once you do, you linger around to make sure he and the photographer are on the same page. Just as you were about to head towards Wooyoung, you’re greeted by someone’s figure just behind you. “Holy sh--” you nearly shout, stopping yourself with a heavy sigh of relief.

“Whoa, it’s just me.” He returns, taking a few steps back to give you space. Once you regain your composure, he flashes a bashful smile at how you shoot him a deadpan look.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You mumble.

San looks at you with a confused light in his eyes. “What?”

You shake your head, changing the topic. “I’m going to check if Wooyoung’s awake. He’s probably right after Yeosang.” With that, you walk past him, gentling hitting his arm with your clipboard in retaliation.

He yelps at the sudden impact-- though it didn’t hurt. “What was that for?!” His tone tinted with faux insult by your actions as he follows you towards their dressing room.

“For surprising the living daylights out of me.” It gets tricky to keep yourself from smiling once you notice him catch up to you.

“I didn’t mean toooo.” He whines, stopping by the door as you peek inside the room.

There you see Wooyoung getting his makeup done. “Sorry!” He apologizes earnestly. You shake your head, not minding his apology. You can only imagine how packed their schedules are now as the preparations for the new music is looming around the corner now.

“All good, just had to check on you. Just come to the set once you’re ready okay?” You remind him. As he’s unable to move his face, he flashes a thumbs up. He catches San peeking over your shoulder, he says nothing to this but the look in his eyes results in San making a face at him. Now that’s out of the way, you turn your attention to San now. “So how have things been huh?”

“Been alright, felt weird that you left.” He admits. He just doesn’t beat around the bush anymore.

You look at the set for a moment, lively boys and music playing overhead. They won’t hear the two of you. “I’m sorry about that… leaving with no word from me.” Your voice is a little softer this time. He doesn’t mind your apology. You had your reasons after all.

“It’s okay, hey I get why you had to do what you did.” San quickly returns.

“Please know that I didn’t leave because of you.” You add before he could possibly start jumping the gun.

He stops there, surprised by what you had just said. Before he could even ask you to explain, Hongjoong calls him over to ask for his opinion on something.

“We can talk later.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments, heading over to the rest of the staff to check on what they need to attend to in the next few days. He watches your hesitant visage shifts into something more confident. Crazy how things change.

He watches you attend to your work before he heads back on set. Time to get back to work.

---------

“Thank you for your hard work!” The voices of the eight members echo through the venue. Their voices were returned with applause and cheering from the staff. You check on the photographers immediately after the words of praises have been exchanged. The photos have been backed up on the computers and hard drives. From there, you tell them that they can leave now, to leave the pack up to the rest of the staff.

With that, you keep the memory cards and cameras in a safe place, before stepping out of the office to help with packing up. By now, it’s probably night time. Truthfully, you didn’t keep track of the time, it only makes you more exhausted if you did. You pick up the tables first with your co-staff, carrying up somewhere out of the way but still easy to put back in pace for day 2 of the shoots.

The backdrops have been rolled up as well, all the heavy lifting were being dealt with by the other staff. You notice the lack of eight loud voices and check on the dressing room if they had to rush to another schedule.

You peek in and they’re still there, just now in casual clothes. “Sorry, had to check if this room was clear already or not. No rush!” You explain as you leave the room quickly, a little embarrassed. You get back to work, unclipping the gel sheets from the spotlights. At least you don’t burn your hands this time as you put them on the table next to you.

You finish folding or rolling the gel sheets into the containers. One on your hands, the other pushed forward by your feet. While you were strong enough to carry heavy duty gear, your hands can only carry so much. Additionally, you didn’t want to do repeated trips back and forth, spare mercy to your sore legs and back.

A man comes to your assistance and for a moment you thought it was one of your co-workers. “Ah thank y-- San?!” You look at the male in surprise, you thought they would’ve left by now.

“We figured you guys might want some help.” San explains as he hoists the second container in his arms. We? You look around and you see members helping carrying gears into the storage rooms or offices.

“You guys didn’t have to…” You mumble, one part touched and one part concern. They’ve worked so hard yet they’re here willingly helping out.

“We wanted to. You guys work hard too. that it would be good if you guys get some rest too.”

You had a feeling that he wanted to talk about something also, based on how careful his words were. This time, you don’t close yourself to what his thoughts are. Once you lead him to the storage room for the lights, you put the container on top of other crates. You made a mental note to make an updated inventory list with how many empty crates this room had. Once your arms are free, you take the container from San, propping it on the table. All that’s left to get were the lights.

Once his hands were free, he hid his hands in his hoodie’s pockets. “I, uh, was wondering, if you wanted to go out soon? Of course, when you’re free also..” San asks, hesitance slowing his words down. You have a feeling this outing has some sort of weight behind it but you don’t say anything for now.

“It’s just the two of us?” As if it was no big deal.

“I mean, if you want it to be with the members, it’s fine too.” San doubles back on his words, feeling embarrassed for feeling like the same kid a few years back.

You shake your head at the second offer. Maybe giving him a chance this time wouldn’t be so scary. “Sounds like a plan. You still have my kakao don’t you?” You ask, taking the container from his hands.

It was a good thing you took the container from him as he freezes up in surprise at your willingness. “Uh-” he clears his throat to regain his composure. “Yeah, I do! When do you want to hang out?”

“Next week? How does that sound?” He genuinely hopes he isn’t dreaming from this point on. “

“Sounds good.” He’ll clear out the day just for this.

You flash a smile at him as you let him leave the room first. “Awesome, let’s finish up cleaning so we can get some rest?”

When the two of you return, your higher op tells you to leave the stands where they are. For easier assembly for the next shoot.

“Next shoot?” You get a little nervous, unaware of this schedule. Did you forget about this?

“Relax. It’s an outdoor shoot for an advertisement. It’s just easier for everyone if it’s already out and ready to go.” Probably not one of your assigned projects then. With that, everyone bids each other farewell. The boys splitting from you and Hwayoung to head to their apartment.

Now that everyone else is out of earshot, Jongho breaks the silence. “I think Hyung asked them out.” The spaced out smile on San’s face is a giveaway to how the conversation goes. Yet, knowing the members, they wanted to make sure.

“What did they say?” Wooyoung prods.

“We’re meeting next week.” San simply states, and immediately Wooyoung jumps and shakes his friend gleefully. It’s thanks to Seonghwa that the dazed boy doesn’t fall over from Wooyoung’s antics.

--------

On the days leading to your meet up, the two of you agreed to meet somewhere away from the crowds. Now that today’s the day, you stroll around the area waiting for him. You weren’t sure if you’re expecting him to ditch due to schedules or hoping for him to come. This area feels new to you, one part of your mind stays aware of where you’re going and where you are while the other shuts off as you stroll and look through the shops that line your sight.

[ San to You ] Be there in five minutes!

You look at the message then at the time. Not a big deal, you supposed.

[ You to San ] Don’t rush. Just as long you arrive safely.

[ San to You ] You’re there already?

It looks like it’ll be a lengthy text conversation so you step away from the foot traffic, on the fence of either exploring some more or heading to the meeting spot.

[ You to San ] Yeah, I got curious so I explored for a bit.

Three minutes. You decide to walk back to the meeting spot.

[ San to You ] I’ll show you this new food place I found when I was with Wooyoung and Seonghwa.

You could actually picture how excited he was and you had to bite your lip from smiling like a fool at your phone.

Someone taps your shoulder and for a split second you think it could be a lost foreigner. When you turn on your heels, it’s San. This time he’s in loose clothes, an oversized white shirt tucked into dark blue slacks like bottoms. For once he isn’t in black.

“This is the first time I’m not seeing you in black, I think?” you comment, giving him a thorough look. Well save for his bag, he wasn’t in anything in black.

He flashes a pose at your words. “I wanted to change it up for once, does it suit me well?” He asks, spreading his arms to let you look at him properly.

There’s something about his outfit that makes you smile. “Yeah, I like it.” You shouldn’t have the urge to squeeze his cheeks upon seeing his dimples but here you are. Now that the greetings were out of the way, he holds on to your shoulders, gently steering you at the direction of this restaurant he mentioned in your text. “So what’s up with this restaurant that you like so much?”

Once the two of you are walking, he pulls his hands away from you. “Well, for starters, their stews are great. All of their ingredients are fresh.” He goes on about this restaurant that he’s been so in love with lately. A small part of you wonders if this is one of those restaurants he visited for his individual content. You guess you’ll find out eventually. With that, you let San talk excitedly about food, how he’s finally able to get away from the boys even for a few hours. He’s not one to talk a lot but when he does, he talks. With that said, you don’t mind listening to him, you spend too much time having to talk to others (for a living) that listening for a change isn’t so bad. Besides, you know for sure you’ll have to do your share of talking once you arrive at this restaurant.

He spots the restaurant a few meters ahead of you and he starts to bounce a little on his feet. “Do you see the restaurant with the red lettering with a crab?” He asks. There’s something in his tone that makes you walk a little faster, just for his sake.

“We’re going there?” You ask in return. He takes a few steps forward, already slightly ahead of you. You can tell he already wants to run towards the franchise, and you can already imagine just how good the food could be to elicit such a reaction from him. From there, you decide to just follow him to the restaurant, amused by his excitement for food.

The restaurant looked homey; wooden chairs and tables, with dividers per table for privacy, with some songs playing overhead. Some tables were occupied with what seems to be families and friends, tables covered with various stews and seafood that come in various vivid colors and flavors. It makes sense why San would love this place.

The two of you get settled down on a table a little further away from any eyes. You weren’t entirely sure of what to order either that you let San introduce you to the meals available instead. This of course, makes him beam even brighter. “Anything I should be wary of?” You admit to being wary of certain things; it’s not that you’re allergic but because you rarely have them. That alone gets his head working and already he knows what to order to share with you and for your solo meals.

As the two of you wait for your meals, your eyes wander around the place--, partly out of curiosity and partly because well… you’re a little shy of the mere fact it’s just you and him. The male across you lets you take in the interiors of the place for a few moments before speaking up. “So, how have things been?” It was a genuine question, one filled with wonder if life has been better for you.

This is probably your cue to fill him in on as much as you can without anyone overhearing the two of you. You fill him in on the months you were jobless, not because you couldn’t find a job but because you just needed to rest badly. You stayed on your own still but you were able to meet your friends in those few months, recharging and taking care of your health after who knows how long. You’re into new hobbies as well, making bracelets or keychains, which fortunately also gives you a bit of extra cash. At the mention of the crafts you’ve been making, you show the simple beads that wove around your wrist, along with the purple and green woven keychain that’s attached to your phone case.

“You learned all of that.. Over the months of no work?” San asks. Truth be told, when he’s on hiatus, he either just plays games, work out, or sleep. He learns things too for the sake of becoming a better performer but crafts never crossed his mind. “And yet, you know how to deal with production work?”

“I did tell you I knew a thing or two when it comes to the industry. My tolerance to things is just something I need to work on.” You admit as you keep your phone away. One by one the food arrives. It’s only when you’re greeted by the stew that you realize how hungry you are. “Fill me in on your life too.” You quickly add before the two of you get side tracked by the various dishes that slowly fill up your table.

As he hands you your utensils, he starts to tell you stories of their recent milestones and albums. The way he finds himself improving as a person and as an artist. He admits to some dips in self-confidence though not as bad as they used to be. After all, at the end of the day, he’s still a regular human with their ups and downs. He tells you as well of the acting gigs he’s been doing, even did a few radio shows on his own. In typical fashion, he even exposes some of his members, what they’ve been doing, what they’re planning, and the like. Were you surprised though? Not quite, in fact you can see a bit of Jongho’s influence in his mannerisms of exposing members. Those two were doing amazing in the drama scene after all.

“Oh yeah! Speaking of dramas, I heard from a little birdy that you were interested in taking up a horror thriller drama role?” You say before taking a small mouthful of noodles. This question flusters him slightly but he flashes a smile so bright, his dimples make an appearance.

“Yeah,” he starts as he looks for the crab meat in his meal. “If the director thinks I’m perfect for the role then why not right?” He lets himself eat for a few moments before continuing to speak. “Though, if Seonghwa-hyung gets the role instead of me that would be funny.”

“He still can’t handle horror?”

“Him and Mingi.”

That’s how the rest of the meal goes. The two of you sharing stories and jokes from the years you’ve been out of touch with each other. It’s a feat that San still plushies on his bed, some of which he had given away, some still with him after all these years. He’s just as amazed as you are for you.

It takes an hour or two before the food is finished. You’ve kept note of this place in your phone, wanting to come back here on your own in the near future. “Speaking of, did you feature this place in your individual content?”

“I have! It’s just going through post processing with the staff so expect it soon.” He chirps, beaming at how you remembered his individual content.

After he pays for the meal (which you will pay back through desert), the two of you walk around the area. He shows you where he gets his clothes, stuff Mingi has showed him as well. In some shops, he proceeds to complain about how some of his members have taste that’s too expensive for him. In response to that, you stare at his bag. You may not be as well off as he is, but you can tell a luxury brand when you see one-- his bag being one of them.

“This was a gift from Yunho!!” He tries to defend himself, which was pretty useless knowing how he had set himself up for that. Besides that, the exploring was fun. The two of you inevitably bought a few things. It was a little funny though, to see a foreigner try to flirt with San and seeing San try to shake them off by pretending to not speak any English. Once you two leave the shop, he immediately asks if the two of you could head somewhere for dessert.

“Even until now, huh?” You tease him.

“Sh..”

You don’t need to see him to see his red ears. You know him well enough for that.

Now you’re here in a bingsu cafe, sharing a strawberry and mango bingsu with him as rivers of people pass by beneath you. It’s a lot calmer now, the jitters of meeting up with an old friend having faded now. Your chats have mellowed down as well. Some topics seem to fit a night of drinking soju in the comfort of one’s home until the sun rises up. There were things that he needed your thoughts about certain things in his line of work. Not that he doesn’t get them with his own members but the unbiased approach you have also helps him in more ways than he can imagine. There are also things that the two of you needed to discuss, things that neither of you should be running away from.

“What you said in the set..” He trails off. You look up from your meal at his words, waiting for him to expound. “You didn’t leave because of what happened between us?” He asks, his eyes stay glued to the half eaten bingsu. There’s doubt in his mind that he’d be able to face how you look with this topic.

You do owe him an explanation. You set down your utensils first before speaking up. “San, I left the company cause I couldn’t keep up with the deliverables… it took a toll on my health.” It was an explanation that San kind of didn’t expect. While you didn’t delve into all the details, you gave him enough for him to understand the gravity. It only takes his expression for you to connect the dots. “You thought you were a reason for my departure?” San couldn’t really say much, only eating his share in guilty silence. “San, you weren’t a reason for that. Sure it was stressful but I can take on workmates having a crush on me as compared to deliverables that needed to be sent out at crazy times.” He still feels a little burdened, but you can’t really do much for that. It’ll take a while before the guilt really washes away, he carried this belief for so long, unlearning that would take a while. “You’re not a burden, I promise you that. Never were, never will be.” Truth be told, any shortcomings he’s had have been forgiven and forgotten. You truly believe he’s grown since you last heard from him.

He flashes a small smile, and you know it’s taking a lot of his strength to not cry. San catches the look of mild alarm in your face and beats you to it. “I’m not going to cry here, I promise.” As he says this, he proceeds to blink profusely to keep the tears at bay. You slipping a piece of tissue towards him catches his eye and he laughs lightly at the thoughtful deed. “Thank you.” He holds onto it to reassure you and to make sure he doesn’t cry in public. He’ll save the tears when he’s in the privacy of his own room. “Now, help me create a cave with this bingsu.” The man across you states, picking up his spoon again. You look at the half eaten bingsu and he’s right, for some reason he started at the edge then started digging downwards.

“San, this cave is going to fall.” You state, a little fearful of a possible mess that could happen if you indulge in his wish.

“Do you not have faith in me?” He asks, visibly hurt by your alarm now. Your gaze carries disbelief and you decide to indulge but on one condition.

“If this falls, you’re buying my coffee on the way home.”

“Call.”

--------

“Do you wanna do this again? Some other time?” San asks. It’s a little frustrating that the two of you don’t live under the same roof (technically) anymore but it does make the time spent a little more precious.

Your eyes widen at his invitation but soften up once it registers in your head. “Yeah, I’d like that. Message me?” You ask, raising your phone up. The train’s arriving soon and that means a surge of people. You take a quick sip of your nth cup of coffee for the day before you brace yourself for rush hour. You did reassure San that your coffee tasted sweeter because it was his money.

“Of course. Send me a message when you get home okay?”

The two of you quickly give the other a hug, just in time for the train to arrive. San stays near the wall, away from the incoming foot traffic from both ends of the station. He watches you enter the train, staying near the window so that you could still clearly see each other. Even at a distance, San pulls a few faces at you to which you try to stifle the laughter that wants to spill from your lips. The doors close and you wave goodbye to him. He does the same, his thumb and pinky outstretched as if to say to expect a message or a call from him soon. The last thing he sees before the train whirrs away is a thumbs up and your smile.

He lets the rush hour crowd dissipate first before making his way to his own train ride home. Somewhere along the way, he receives a message.

[ You to San ] I got home!

[ You to San ] proof.jpg

It was a photo of the clothes the two of you bought along with the coffee he bought for you, spread across the table in your place. A small air of laughter slips out of him at how you arranged the photo in your typical manner after a long day.

[ San to You ] clapping_ryan.emoji

[ San to You ] thumbs_up_apeach.emoji

It’s hard to shake the feeling that the members would annoy him about today.

--------

The door beeps a melody at his return, and already he’s greeted by some of the members playing video games in the living room. It looks like Mingi somehow managed to doze off on the massage chair despite the chaos in front of him. Yeosang who was just an audience to the entire thing notices his return and beckons him over to sit with them to watch. It was a tight match between Wooyoung and Yunho from the looks of the score.

“How was the date?” Yeosang asks before offering a piece of chicken to the now seated member. “It wasn’t a date.” San states, he wonders how many times he had to get this through their heads. Regardless, he takes the offered chicken pop. “Not the usual salt and pepper today?” He asks, a little surprised with the change of flavor. The other shrugs nonchalantly at the change. “Promo plus GC. You know I had to do it.” He looks at San with a raised eyebrow. “It looks like a date though.”

Somehow, San didn’t want Yeosang to expound on what that meant. It’s good to keep your hopes up but this is different.

“Are you going to see them again?” Yeosang asks, the two of them suddenly jumping when Wooyoung manages to score another point against Yunho. The entire room erupts into cheers. They peer over at Mingi and he’s still deep in slumber on the massage chair.

Now that they’ve mellowed down and Yunho has called for a round 2, San returns to their topic. “If we have time then yeah.”

-------

It wasn’t a matter of if the two of you have time. It was a matter of how the two of you will meet. By some strange feats of stubbornness and quick thinking, the two of you somehow manage to meet with each other still after schedules. Of course, depending on how tired the other is, it was usually just San decompressing at your apartment.

The two of you have grown closer than before. Not a day passes without either of you sending each other messages at the start or end of one’s day. Today, San asked if he can stay for the night after a CF shoot. Even though you’ve said before that you don’t mind him coming over just as long as he gives you a heads up, he still asks.

Now, he’s spread eagle across the floor, relishing on the cool feeling of your flooring after such a long day. “San, I’m pretty sure your massage chair might be more comfortable than my floor.” You say, as you set down some snacks on the table.

“We may have a massage chair in the dorm but we don’t have a Lily.” He states. Lily’s your pet ragdoll that’s been with you now for half a year. The little one was also resting on San’s abdomen. The image in front of you makes you laugh.

“I guess so, but will Lily really help with your muscle knots?”

“Her purring can.”

You roll your eyes at how weak he gets for cats. “Go get washed up. Your spare clothes are in my room. I promise, her purring will feel much better when you get out of your work clothes.” Before he says anything to stay put, you already got Lily’s favorite toy ringing clear in the room. The dainty bell already catches the feline’s attention and she hops off of him before he can say anything.

“Fine, fine.” His voice is tinged with an exhausted whine but you’re right; loungewear after a long day does feel nice. With that, he pushes himself off the floor and makes his way to your bathroom.

Now that he’s gone, you tire out your little zooming companion for some time, playing catch with her as she bounces around the room, catching her favorite ball over and over. In the course of throwing the ball repeatedly and tiring out your favorite girl, thoughts run in your mind. You’ve talked about this with Jiwoo recently but you never got to talk about this with Seonghwa or Hongjoong. With Lily still whacking at the small ball around, chasing it around the room, you decide to send Seonghwa a message.

[ You to Seonghwa ] Hey remember that question you asked me when you and Hongjoong visited me?

[ Seonghwa to You ] Yeah, what’s up?

The bathroom door unlocks and it’s sudden enough for you to jump out of your seat. You couldn’t think of a reply to make yourself look busy when San comes back after a shower and in a fresh set of clothes. Adrenaline runs hot in your body now.

“San, I have a question..” Your voice is careful and it already puts San on edge, wondering what could be in your head to suddenly sound so hesitant. Just earlier, you were teasing him and playing around with Lily. He worries what could’ve happened in his absence.

“Yeah?” San returns, repositioning himself to listen closely to whatever’s bothering you. He sits across you, tearing open a bag of snacks.

“You still have feelings don’t you?”

“What if I do?”

This time there’s nothing that twists in you.

Part 9

#my writings #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #ateez san #san fanfiction #san fluff #im just saying but if some stuff here come true i'll deactivate /jk 1/2

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imladris-soldier · 4 years ago

Text

Burn Him Out

DISCLAIMER!!!!!: This piece is 100% just me trying to deal with issues I still have regarding R*an and everything he did. I’m only sharing it here in case it might help anyone else. Please do not take it too seriously. I just thought that writing something out would help me.

The Vagabond betrayed the team. He has to pay.

“He betrayed us.”

The declaration was definitive, though one would be lying if they said they couldn't see the weary grief in Geoff's eyes from behind his desk. The rest of the crew were scattered around his penthouse office in various states of discomfort.

You were leaned up against the wall to Geoff's right with your arms crossed tightly over your chest and your eyes on the floor. It had come first as a shock, and then as a gut wrenching blow when the news about The Vagabond was revealed. Jeremy had been the one to text you. Perhaps they'd known he would be the best choice – or perhaps none of the others were brave enough to do it. You'd gone off grid for days and done a few things you weren't proud of, almost going so far as to revert back to the person you were before the Fake AH Crew had found you and adopted you into their ranks.

Something had convinced you to turn your phone back on, and you'd been greeted by a call from Jack, begging you to come back to the pent house. Her voice was rough as though she'd been crying. That had been enough to bring you back to them – to stand in this room with them and decide what was going to be done about the man who had destroyed your unit. Your family.

“He has to pay,” Lindsay finally said, her voice sharp and brittle. “We can't let this go.”

“We won't,” Geoff assured her. “That's why I wanted you all here. To talk about our options.”

“Let's just snipe him and be done with it,” Trevor suggested from where he sat in a cushy white chair with his elbows on his knees.

“That's an idea. But I figured you lot would want something bigger.”

“He knows what he did,” Jeremy cut in. “He won't show his face long enough for that to work. He knows we'll be coming for him eventually.”

Matt asked, “Then how do we know he's even still in Los Santos?”

“I've kept my ear to the ground,” Geoff answered. “The Vagabond has been seen. Fleetingly, but he's here.”

“Fucking fool,” you muttered under your breath. He should have left and kept his mouth shut – disappeared off the face of the god damn Earth, but no. He was too proud; too convinced of his invulnerability. On one hand, perhaps you could understand why. Even after this, there would still be crews willing to work with him or take him in. Despicable. He'd do the same things all over again if given the chance. He had to go.

“Anyone in particular want the honors?”

The room was quiet. Despite everything, he'd been a friend. Everyone there had cared about him, laughed with him, run jobs with him at their back. The crew was harsh when it had to be, but this even they balked at.

Fiona quietly spoke up. “Well, we have to draw him out first, right? How do we do that?”

Geoff nodded. “I have contacts all throughout this city. We could set up a fake job. Get word out that they're looking to hire him specifically? Could work. We have to be careful though. Can't have any of us connected to it, whispers or otherwise. He'll know it's a trap.”

“It should be secluded,” Trevor added. “Whatever it is. He's done enough harm. We don't need collateral damage.”

Slowly, an idea began to form in your head. “Would a few dead cops bother you, Treh?”

He thought on that for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah. Just no civilians, alright?”

“What are you thinking, Y/N?” Jack asked.

Your eyes scanned the room, meeting the gaze of most of your crew in the process. “You know that out of use gondola station up on Chilead? We lure him up there, and set the cops on him. Get him caught. Then we sabotage the cop cars. Options there, obviously, but I personally wouldn't mind sticky bombs.” You paused, your voice hovering over the thought that had come to you. “I wouldn't mind pushing the button.”

The silence that greeted you was humming with a little bit of surprise, but it soon dissipated as the plan was considered.

“Seems a little flashy,” Alfredo replied. “Why not just gang up on him at the gondola station?”

You shrugged. “We could do that too. But it needs to send a message. Don't fuck with us. Don't fuck with the people we protect. We take care of our own, and nothing gets in our way. Not cops, not sick, traitorous bastards like The Vagabond. Nothing.”

Geoff nodded thoughtfully, then asked, “Anyone got any better ideas?” No one spoke up, so he nodded again. “Fine. We'll do it your way, Y/N. You'll need someone with you to help you plant the bombs without being seen. Who do you want?”

Your eyes passed between each of your friends, considering the pros and cons of each. In truth, you would have preferred Jeremy at your side, but getting him out of his Rimmy Tim outfit for work was nigh impossible, and bright orange was the last thing you needed to pull this off. Matt was quiet enough, but too easily fumbled things – not a good quality when dealing with bombs. Jack would have worked if she wasn't so clearly emotionally affected by everything that had happened.

You sighed, massaging your temples. Fiona and Alfredo were too loud. Gavin goofed too easily and might just as soon attach a bomb to his own foot before the car. Lindsay may have been a good choice as she seemed to share your rage, but she was showing it too much. Given how much of a wild card she could be, you weren't sure she wouldn't run off to beat the Vagabond to death herself and get arrested in the process. Trevor maybe, but he looked so tired already. He was angry, but beat down.

At long last, your eyes landed on Michael. He stared back in stony silence – a resolve and quiet that you needed. “Michael comes with me.”

Geoff looked over to the younger man who nodded shortly. “Fine. Get the supplies you need. I'll start setting it up.”

With that, the crew broke ranks and spread throughout the apartment to brood and stew on it all. You touched bases with Michael briefly, giving him a list of things to acquire while you looked over the map and decided on where to place the two of you for the job.

As you stared down at the paper, Jeremy joined you. He stood there silently for a time, watching you work, then finally murmured, “You sure about this?”

“Yeah. Easy enough. I've run car bombing jobs dozens of times.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You sighed, feeling your shoulders sink some. “You mean am I sure I want to press the button.” He nodded. “I want him gone, Jeremy. From Los Santos. From this planet. But mostly from here.” You pointed to your head. “I want to forget I ever knew his name, ever saw his face, ever heard his laugh. I don't want to spend another god damn second of my life thinking about Ryan fucking Haywood. I don't want him to have this shadow over me anymore. So yeah. I'm ok with writing him out of this story. Burning him out. Fuck him for what he did. He hurt so many people. Including me.”

Jeremy nodded. “I know.” He put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “Get it done. I'll be here when you're finished.”

He left you alone. An angry tear slipped down your nose onto the map beneath you.

It took a few weeks for Geoff to get the fake job planted, but soon his informants were letting him know that the Vagabond had taken the bait. The job would be run, just as planned, and you and Michael would be waiting.

The two of you staked out the gondola station hours before the job was supposed to take place, keeping to your hiding places in case the Vagabond had done the same. You were quiet for a long time, but eventually you looked over to your companion and told him, “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Sure,” he replied. “It needs to be done.”

You nodded. “Still. Thanks.”

Something about him softened. “I know this isn't easy for you. It's not easy for me either. But it's the right thing to do. I got your back, Y/N.”

With that, a peace settled over you, and you were content to wait out the rest of the afternoon in silence.

As the sun dipped low, you began to strategically place your items to make for quick work. Once that was done, you texted Jack to call the police. It would take them a bit to get mobilized and up the mountain, but just a hint of the Vagabond would send them running.

As expected, in the hazy purple of twilight, you heard a motorcycle heading up the road. You and Michael looked at one another before you peaked out over the large boulder you'd set up behind. It was him, alright. The blue and black of his jacket struck a nostalgic chord inside you, causing your insides to clench in pain. Fuck.

As soon as he disappeared into the building to begin collecting the “loot” (it was really just several boxes of rocks that Matt and Alfredo had put together), Michael slipped out into the darkness to drag his knife through the tires of the motorcycle the Vagabond had arrived on to keep him from escaping on it, then hid himself on the other side of the road, just as the sounds of cars reached you.

The police didn't have their lights or sirens on – some actual wisdom on their part for once. Not until they had blocked the whole road with their vehicles and surrounded the building did they make their presence known.

“Vagabond! We know you're in there. Come out with your hands up!”

He was outnumbered, but of course that didn't keep him from trying to shoot his way out. In the chaos, you and Michael weaved between the police cars, sticking the explosives to the bottoms. You met at the back of the line, then ran off the road once more into the brush and trees.

A few cops went down in the fray, but they were soon leading the Vagabond out in handcuffs. They'd ripped his mask off, smearing his makeup and leaving his dark hair in a frizzy mess. You stared at him as they took him to one of the cars. For so long he had made you feel safe and happy, despite his darker turns. You'd never thought him capable of such a betrayal – of something so fucking heinous. Looking at him now made you feel sick and sad and broken. You missed the man you thought he was. Fuck, you missed that man.

But this one. He wasn't that man. The mask was off at last. Not so infallible after all.

The cars started down the mountain in single file, due to the narrow road, and the one they had placed their prisoner in went last. You waited until they were about 50 yards away before stepping out of your hiding spot into the middle of the road.

“What are you doing?” Michael hissed.

You ignored him and waited for what you were hoping to see. The rear car slowed as the cop driving it saw you, and then you saw him look. The Vagabond turned his head to look out the rear windshield at what the cop had seen. And he saw you – standing there with the detonator in hand. You met his blue eyes and held it up between you.

“Go directly the fuck to hell, Ryan,” you said as you pressed the button.

The cars lit up like a botched 4th of July celebration, sending careening, burning metal flying across the mountainside. The entire parade of them burst into flames and crashed into one another, shrieking and rumbling.

You stood there, staring at the carnage and listening to the screams. The last car in the line was just a pile of shredded car parts, but in the flames you could see the black and blue jacket, burning, and you let that image flood through your veins and into the folds of your brain. Burn him out. Forget.

Michael met you in the road, nodding some in approval. “Nicely done,” he told you. “Let's get back before more cops show up.”

You nodded too and threw the detonator into the fire. “Let's go home.”

The penthouse was quiet when the pair of you arrived back, but everyone slowly filtered into the living room to be briefed. You opened your mouth a few times, but found that nothing would come out. Instead, you turned on the TV and navigated to the news station which was reporting the explosion on the side of Mount Chilead.

The group watched it in silence for a while, then Geoff said, “Well done.”

After that, people began to trickle back to their rooms. Michael pat you on the back and followed Lindsay out. Gavin came and gave you a somewhat awkward hug before he left. In the end, only you and Jeremy remained in the room, staring at the TV emptily.

He came and stood next to you, taking your hand into his own. “Did it help?” he asked gently.

You nodded.

“Good.”

#fake AH crew #my writing #ryan haywood

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thenextchapter22 · 4 years ago

Text

Little Angel in the Devildom

Description: A spell to make her look younger changes her to the mental age of a toddler. The demon brothers and the undatables all try to make her life as happy as possible while trying to find a cure on the side.

Warnings: De-aging mentally, Age Play, Adorableness, WIP

Pairing(s): NONE! Unless you count non-romanticly...

Word Count: 5,414

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes: So this is going to be written in she/her pronouns and has an unnamed female main character. Fluffy goodness abound! :3 This is also an ongoing work I will randomly update. Please Enjoy~

_+_

Bedtime (Lucifer)

“Let’s brush your teeth now, my dear.”

She groaned while Lucifer just chuckled. “Come now, it’s the same as each night. Why is tonight so upsetting to you?”

The pair headed up the steps to the bedrooms in the House of Lamentation, Lucifer helping her with a hand on her lower back as they climbed. They had finished dinner a few hours ago and has some leisure time but now it was bedtime (for her).

She sighed loudly, shoulders slumping. “I’m not tired. Brushing my teeth means bed. Can’t I stay up and watch TV? Or-or, um, Levi and me can play some games!” She grinned at him, hoping to charm him into what she wanted.

He hushed her softly, her smile changing into a pout. This made him look on at her fondly while she sort of half-stomped into the bedroom. He had such a soft spot for her, it was ridiculous. She made his demonic heart just a little bit as it was in the Celestial Realm, when he was looking after his younger brothers. Caring. Loving.

“We’re inside so please lower your voice. And no, you cannot watch TV or play games tonight. It’s far too late for that.”

“Aw! No fair.” Why did Luci have to be such a dad all the time, it was no fun at all for her.

He waited while she brushed her teeth and changed into her PJ’s in the bathroom. When she re-entered he was switching the tiny nightlight on the wall on. It was a crescent moon, comforting to her because it illuminated the dark room. She loved the moon.

“All right, bed for the little humans,” he said, reaching for her to lay her down in bed under her covers. Despite her still being a regular sized human woman, she still was mentally the age of a human toddler so he tried his best to treat her like he would a child in any way possible.

It was an almost nightly routine for him to do this. If not Mammon (he helped her sleep with cuddles when she had bad days or just wanted company at night) or Satan (who read to her at night before bed most times) usually it was Lucifer that tucked her in and made her feel safe before she went to sleep. Beel sometimes woke her up when he was getting snacks and they shared, but that was their secret.

She yawned as she sank into bed. It was warm and cozy and snuggled in with a happy shake of her body.

He smiled. “Ah, so you are tired.”

She stuck out her tongue, blew a raspberry at him. “No way.”

He gave her a stern look. “If it were not so late, I’d have you in the corner for that.”

She froze. “Sorry…”

He hummed and sat beside her. “Did you have a good day?” he asked softer, gently brushing hair from her cheeks.

“Yeah.” She thought some more on the day, and wondered about something that had been bothering her. She had to be brave to ask it, though. “Luci?”

“Yes?” He replied, tucking the blankets around her frame.

“Why am I here?”

He stopped his motions. Lucifer sat back and looked at her. His dark features always seemed like they should frighten her, but they made her feel better. Somehow, she trusted him not to do her harm despite how scary he could be to others (like how mean he was to Mammon).

“I don’t ‘member lots of stuff but I had a dream where I was someplace else… they sky was blue and I was in a different house but none of you were there. It was sad.”

Lucifer knew this day was coming. One couldn’t be a human, be told they were in fact human, and not wonder about being surrounded by demons and angels. Plus, they still did not know what exactly she remembered after the accident and they also did not want to scare a child with the information of actually being an adult. Yes, she looked like an adult, but there weren’t any children in the Devildom so it wasn’t like she didn’t know the difference. It might hurt her more mentally and Lucifer couldn’t stand to see her hurt in anyway. As the humans said, better safe than sorry.

“That’s a hard thing to answer.” He paused. “I’ll tell you some other day.” Hopefully that would satisfy her for now.

She frowned. “Is it… is it bad?”

“No, it’s not.” He smiled, and, after finishing gathering the blankets around her tight enough to feel warm but not constricted, he leaned down inches from her face. He kissed her forehead, and whispered, “Sweet dreams.”

When he left, the room was bright from the crescent moon plugged into the wall. But she could feel Lucifer’s own presence, not a light, but a dark warmth, surrounding her as she fell asleep. She never wanted to leave home.

__++__

Prince (Diavolo)

The House of Lamentation family was gathered in the common room waiting for a special guest. An actual Prince was coming to visit. Lucifer called him ‘Lord’ but that was the same as Prince honestly.

She could not wait to meet an actual real-life Prince, just like the ones in the story books that Satan read to her at night. She jumped around for joy, screaming giddily, “I can’t wait to meet the Prince!”

Lucifer hushed her and told her to calm down. “Inside voices, please.”

Asmo was pouting, and he asked her, “We’re Princes of the Devildom, darling, so why are you so excited?”

She shook her head frantically, the ribbon curls that Asmo put in her hair smacking her in the face. But nothing deterred her. “No, ‘s not the same!”

“And why not?”

She twirled the dress, a pink and fluffy one with white stockings and white heels with bows on her feet, the perfect outfit to meet a Prince because she looked just like a Princess. She pretended to think on his question, then smiled and said, “Cause I said so!”

Asmo whined. “So mean…”

Satan laughed, crossing his legs on the sofa. “You heard her.”

Huffing, Asmo crossed his arms. “I wonder if she was like this before she came here.”

She did not know what that meant. As far as she knew, she was always in Devildom. But, she had no time to think on it because, again, a literal Prince was coming!

She was spinning in circles, passing the time, waiting impatiently for the Prince to come by. Twirling until she got dizzy, balancing with her arms and giggling when she got a head rush.

Lucifer sighed for the millionth time from where he sat on the armchair. “Please, be careful.”

Resisting the urge to stick out her tongue was hard, but she did because he would be mean and not let her meet the Prince and that would be awful.

A door opened and closed. She stood still, stomach clenched tightly. She was so nervous. Did she look pretty enough for him, a Prince?

But it wasn’t a Prince that entered the room first, and she only knew that when he, a demon with short hair dyed at the ends, pretty with bat-like horns on his head and bright eyes, said, “Presenting Lord Diavolo,” while gesturing to his left where the doorway was.

“You don’t have to do that here, Barbatos.”

“Yes, my lord. I find it fun, however.”

A deep guttural laugh that made her toes tingle, and then he entered and he was… incredible. Dressed in a red suit and bright gold eyes, soft looking red hair, and so big and tall. He could lift her up and take her all over! Piggy back rides for the rest of her life sounded so great.

“I’m sure you do,” the Prince said in response to Barbatos. Then he smiled wider, and held open his arms in greeting. “Hello everyone. How is—gah!”

She jumped into his arms (they opened for her, right?). Distantly she heard the brothers collectively groan, coo, and gasp. But she did not care. The Prince was here and he was so warm and smelled so nice, and he caught her quick and perfectly held her. Was this love?

He chuckled, a deep sound reverberating the room and in her chest. His arms encircled you, warm and incredible. He smelled almost like Lucifer but a different darker type of smell. She snuggled into his chest. “Hello. Do you know who I am?”

“Prince. ‘m a Princess.”

He laughed again. “I see that. What a beautiful one you are, too.” He pet her hair down, and she blushed, mumbling in embarrassment.

“My Lord, I am so sorry, she forgets—”

“Lucifer, it’s completely fine. Actually, it’s quite endearing.”

She glanced over at the green haired demon to see his eyes squinted at her, and he wore a smile. She then looked up at Dia—Divol—Dola…. This was hard for her.

“Di-Di!”

The room was silent.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer asked in shock.

“DI-DI?! HAHA!” Satan laughed.

Diavolo just laughed again. Then, he lifted her up by her waist, and spun. She clung to him and giggled. She was lightheaded as both stopped spinning, and he set her down, hands on her arms to steady. He grinned. “You are so precious. I almost wish we could keep you this way, but alas we cannot.”

Everyone kept saying that and she hated it. She just ignored it again, too happy because her Prince was telling her how precious and cute she was. All the work Asmo did was working, she was gonna get married!

He led her to the couch, and she was sat down. He then knelt, making the others gasp again. He took her hand, and smiled. “My Princess, I must take my leave to speak with the others, but we will see each other soon.” He kissed her knuckles, and she blushed brightly.

“O-okay, y-yes! Please, I wanna see you too,” she said, kicking her feet against the couch.

He nodded firmly and stood up. Glancing down at her with a bright smile, he said, “We will, I promise.”

She watched him leave, and Asmo came to sit by her. “Well? What did you think of the ‘Prince’?” he asked, adjusting the curls in her hair as he did.

She sniffled. “He was so pretty.”

“Prettier than me?”

She looked at Asmo, saw his broken expression. Then she climbed onto him and hugged him, smashing his face between her hands. “No one is prettier than you, Asmo.”

He grinned. “Of course not.” Then, a wicked look flashed over his eyes, and he was tickling her. “You never should have doubted my beauty! Now you will pay, little princess!”

She laughed and cried with happiness. It couldn’t have been a better day.

__++__

School (Mammon)

Mammon walked up the steps to RAD. He was late, as most mornings, but he had no clue he was being followed.

She was close behind him the entire time he walked to school. She was lucky he didn’t fly like he sometimes did when he was late but he must not have felt like it. She giggled when he almost caught her but she hid behind a bush and waited until she heard the doors shut to follow.

The only reason she was sneaking to school was because she was lonely. She hated how often she was left alone at the House of Lamentation. Well, she wasn’t totally alone, Belphie and Levi were usually there to watch her, Levi had online classes and Belphie only sometimes went to school and still got great grades. And Lucifer was usually home doing paperwork if he wasn’t out at Diavolo’s castle.

Lucifer would be so mad at her. He told her forever ago “Do not speak or even glance at any other demons aside from me, my brothers, and Lord Diavolo or Barbatos, do you understand?”

“I do,” she whispered to herself. She would be very careful.

When she opened the doors, Mammon was not there. Instead, two large scary demon boys stood in the way. Both super tall, dark black eyes, with toothy grins as soon as they saw her. Spikey horns and identical facial features, brothers it looked like. The only different was one had purple horns and the other red.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she realized this was a bad, very bad idea.

The red horn demon stalked towards her, backing her into the nearest wall. “Look what we found.”

“A good breakfast, we found, didn’t we?” said the other with purple horns.

Tears started running down her cheeks, and her hands were shaking. She held them in front of her and begged, “Please…”

There wasn’t anyone around, all the doors she saw were closed and farther down the hallway. She was doomed.

“Please? Get a load of this, it can beg. Should we make it beg for its life?”

Body shaking, she pressed back as far as she could, arms and legs adjacent to the wall. Nails scratched the chipping paint. There was a lump stuck in her throat and it burned. Fear, this was pure fear. Had she ever been so afraid before? She always had the protection of the house, and the brothers, and now she had made the mistake of leaving and screwing it all up.

“Mammy,” she mumbled. She kept her eyes facing straight, looking right at the chests of the two demons closing in. She couldn’t look at their eyes, they were like looking into the blackness of space and that was terrifying.

“What was that?”

One hot hand touched her shoulder, making her jump and causing them to laugh loudly. Fingers tugged her hair. They were playing with her. Playing with their food.

“Mammy.” She spoke more clearly, but still somewhat mumbled to them.

They laughed at her again. “Is she calling for her mommy? Ha! How pathetic the human race is. She knows she’s going to die, right?”

Her face was hot with tears, and she felt something tugging at the core of her stomach. Death. It was close. They were going to kill her. Eat her alive.

She shut her eyes tight, wishing for anything to come to mind to save her. “Mammy, please…”

The hand on her shoulder was big and heavy and heated, and it gripped her face tightly. That was all it took because then, with a burst of strange power in her voice, she screamed with clarity, “Mammon!”

A sound, crackling like a fire, and a feeling of warm energy in her body, and she heard him. Her savior.

“What is going on here?!”

The hand on her was gone. She felt the air come back to her, cleaner than before. Her eyes shot open, bleary and focusing. She was going to be okay now that Mammon was here.

“Move aside. NOW.”

The two demons stepped aside, stiff and robotic as they did, and she knew somehow they were now afraid. Because Mammon was powerful. Lucifer had told her so, that was why he was her main protector.

Mammon was in front of her, and he crushed her to his chest. She clung back just as desperately to him. A few more tears fell in elation. “You’re okay?! Please tell me you didn’t get hurt, because if you did I will kill—I-I mean…” He pushed back, holding her face in his hands. His eyes frantic as they looked her up and down, pushing her hair back gently, checking every inch of her for harm. He sighed in relief when done. “You’re not hurt?”

She sniffed, fingers tight in his uniform shirt. “No. Was scared though. How-how did you know?”

He raised a brow. “To come here and save you? I am the Great Mammon, you know.” He grinned that sideways grin that usually made her laugh. But right then, she just blinked, not convinced. He shook his head and his smile was gone, in place a tense serious expression. “I’ll explain later. For now, I want you to go over there and face away, and cover your ears. Can you do that?” he asked gently.

It was easy enough to do. But, “You won’t leave?”

He smiled. “I promise I never will. Just one minute, okay? Then we’ll go back home.”

He led her between the two demons, who seemed to be stuck where they were from fear and dread until she was at the opposite end of the hall, which was still empty.

“Close your eyes and don’t look no matter what. Cover your ears, too. Good.” He pat her head, and she blushed. He moved away, his presence she could feel gone but not too far.

It was only seconds, and she heard a dim shout. She flinched in reflex. Her mind could not comprehend what was happening and she knew it wasn’t good. But she also knew Mammon was doing what he had to do.

A light tap on her shoulder and she turned around. Mammon was there. He everything she could have wanted in a hero. She didn’t know what happened, but she knew he was right there, and he would be there to keep her safe always.

He held out his hand and she took it. “Let’s go home.”

Mammon carried her on his back, speed walking as fast as he could to make her giggle at the feeling of the wind passing by the both of them. When she got home he took her to wash her face and change into house clothes, which consisted of leggings and a big warm sweater. He said he was staying home with her to keep her out of trouble.

She covered her mouth with her hand, laughing. “Mammy, you are trouble.”

He sputtered. “Hey! I wasn’t the one that snuck out to follow me to school, was I? Lucifer is going to be so pis—mad! He’s going to be mad at you and me.”

She shrugged. “I’ll just get time out.”

He sighed, glancing up at the ceiling. “And I’ll just get strung up, no biggie.”

The day went by, the both of them hanging out. Later, both had ramen for lunch, his super spicy and hers mild, and both watched some movies on TV. Belphie joined in, too, eventually, cuddled on her other side. She felt so happy to have them with her. This was exactly what she needed and wanted.

Belphie yawned. “Why are you home, Mammon? Failed some quiz or something?”

Mammon sputtered. “NO! She followed me to school, activated our pact when some demons attacked her.”

Belphie was shocked, so shocked he stopped mid yawn to glance between her and Mammon. “Wait, she activated the pact?”

“Yeah, it was strong, too.”

“She’s pure trouble,” Belphie sighed.

“Yup.”

“Did you take care of it?” he asked in a darker tone.

Mammon grinned. “Yeah, it’s all taken care of…”

And when Lucifer was told of what happened, Mammon got hung up in the entry hall, while she got time out for one hour and had to write on a chalkboard 50 lines “I will not sneak out”.

She knew it was a lie each time she wrote it. Because, as two of the brother’s said, she was trouble.

__++__

Tea Party (Barbatos)

The rounded table was set with a pretty white lace table cloth, and a tower of treats sat in the center. Tea was steaming hot and cups were set around each plate. The guests consisted of 2 living and breathing occupants, and 4 stuffed creatures dressed to the nines.

“Yay! Tea party!” She was so excited, she loved tea time with Barb. He made yummy treats and always made her laugh with his funny stories about everyone.

Barbatos sat beside her after pouring tea into each cup. “I’m excited as well. I always enjoy our tea time.”

She smiled at him and his heart melted. He truly did enjoy this time they spent together. Always he was with Lord Diavolo, or other demons and her, but never just the two of them outside of this special time. He was glad his master let him have this little bit of time with her. Sometimes others joined them but mostly it was just the two of them and that’s how they liked it.

“All right, little miss, today we have apple and cheddar scones, strawberry meringue roses, chai tea sandwich cookies, and, your favorite, mini chocolate cupcakes. The tea is chamomile with honey for your sweet tooth.”

She gasped as she looked at all the treats. “It’s so pretty! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She was clapping and shaking in her seat and reached over to half hug him. “You’re the best,” she sighed.

He pat her back, inhaling her sweet scent. “It’s my pleasure, little miss.”

She giggled. “Okay, big mister.”

He playfully pinched her and she pouted at him. “Try the tea. If it’s not to your liking, I have others as well.”

She took a sip of her tea and sighed. “So good!” she whispered in excitement. She turned to the bear at her left, and asked, “What do you think, Teddy?” She pretended to listen, and nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.”

He held back a laugh, which was quite difficult for him. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”

This was something small he could do to make her smile. In her current state of mind, he would make sure she was taken care of, and if it was something as simple as a weekly tea time then he would make sure to prepare her favorites and keep that adorable grin where it should be.

__++__

Storms (Beel & Belphie)

Storms in the Devildom were scary. She did not like them. The skies were dark already and now it was like there was no light at all, and the rain was almost as loud as the thunder. There was no lightning to go with it, just continuous rumbling clouds.

She wanted to sleep but it was too hard. So she snuck out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen, hoping that something warm in her tummy would make her feel better.

But it was worse and louder somehow, and she found herself shaking under the table, cold and scared and just wanting it to stop.

“Hmm? What are you doing under there?”

She gasped when she was grabbed by her arm and pulled out, sliding along the flooring. She looked up and saw Beel with an arm full of food. She must not have heard him over the rumbling thunder.

He frowned at her, and helped her stand up. “You’re crying.”

She nodded, and jumped when a loud boom hit. She was in his arms in seconds flat, sobbing. “S-s-sc-cary! Loud!”

He hoisted her up in his arms. He didn’t like seeing her so scared, so he decided he would keep an eye on her. She should not be alone. “Yeah, the storms are loud. I’ve got snacks in my room so let’s go there.”

She just let him take her, feeling safer and warmer in his embrace. His big hands held her, and she shoved her face into his chest to try and block out the noise.

“Beel, you’re back already?” Belphie’s sleepy voice called. “Oh, you brought company.”

“She’s scared of the storm.”

She was put on Beel’s bed but she clung to his shirt tightly that he had to sit down first with her being held on his lap. A loud bang came, and she cried out, pushing her body close to Beel’s. “Make it stop.” She was begging, sobbing.

Belphie sat up from his bed and blinked to get sleep out of his eyes. He found his way to Beel’s bed and pet her hair back, shushing her softly. “You want to sleep, little one?” he cooed. He felt terrible seeing her so frightened, he would do what he could to make her feel better again.

She nodded against Beel. “Please…”

“Okay, keep your eyes shut. Get comfy, there you go. Now think happy thoughts for me.”

With Beel was her pillow, and Belphie was caressing her hair and cheeks, she slowly stopped hearing the booming thunder and loud rain hitting the house. She heard laughter instead, and when she opened her eyes she was in a field of daisies and had all her friends with her.

__++__

Pranks (Simeon)

Mammon started it all. First it was a tiny prank to Lucifer, and she couldn’t stop giggling when she saw his bright pink hair. He fixed it easily, but poor Mammon was strung up for days. She asked him for prank ideas.

“Mammy, can you tell me some pranks?”

He grinned and ruffled her hair. “Oh yeah! I’ve got tons. Some are too hardcore for you, but I have a few good ideas… Who do you wana prank?”

She thought for a second, who would be the one least likely to get mad at her. She did not want to end up like Mammon. Oh! “Simy!”

He burst out laughing. “This is gonna be good! Simeon’s a great choice, babe. Let’s get to ready to prank an angel!” He tugged her away, the both of them laughing down the halls.

Simeon loved her. She was adorable and cute, and they walked through the gardens together and picked flowers. They even made flower crowns before, Asmo got a kick out of that.

But he had no idea what was coming to him.

It was easy, all she had to do was set a bucket on top of the doorway and wait after they invited him over to play. It was filled with colored paint, she had picked blue to match Simeon’s eyes, and super heavy so Mammon helped her set up the bucket.

“Next time, we’ll do a prank you can actually pull, yeah?”

She nodded eagerly. “Please!”

He sighed, clapping his hands. “Well, I’ve got to head out to a gig. But tell me how it goes! And remember, do not tell Lucifer I gave you this idea or helped you. Swear?” The both of them pinky swore, and Mammon was off.

She waited and waited. It was awful, Simy took forever. Until there came the sound of footsteps, then Simeon’s voice. “Are you in there, little angel?”

It was a nickname he had for her almost instantly after she was mentally de-aged. She loved being called all sorts of nicknames, but this one was a favorite because he was so pretty and kind to her and gentle when he spoke. So she knew he wouldn’t get mad. She felt a little bad, but she really wanted to pull a prank and he was perfect.

“Oh, there you—”

The door opened fully, and the bucket dropped onto the Angel’s head. He stood there, bright blue paint running down his body, bucket on his head, paint all over the floors. He took it off after a second, and she squealed in laughter. His hair was coated in thick blue paint, the only part of him not covered was some of his legs, and his whole face was, too, she could barely see it. His shoes were totally covered, too, in a puddle of thick paint.

Her chest hurt with how much she was laughing, she could barely talk. “B-b-bluuee f-fa-ace, ha ha ha!”

“Oh my.”

He looked at her, and disappointment ran across his face. He swiped his hands over his eyes and cheeks, and then sighed, smiling softly at her. “Well, I suppose a small prank isn’t that terrible. You really are not so innocent, little angel. Perhaps I should call you little devil.”

She stopped laughing hysterically, breathing heavy, and pouted when he pat her head. “S-sorry. It was supposed to be funny. Was it?” She hoped he wasn’t mad. She never saw him mad before.

He chuckled. “For you, I guess it was funny. For me, I think it’s just a mess,” he said, lifting his arms, dripping wet blue paint.

She blushed. “I’ll clean up, I swear!”

He nodded, and paint dribbled down. “Good girl. Let’s get to cleaning, then.”

After he wiped his face clear, the room was cleaned, and Simeon had changed clothes (still the same, somehow, probably more magic), they settled down and ate some cookies left in the cabinets. She was tired from laughing so hard and Simeon felt a more relaxed evening would be best.

“Simy?” she asked, cuddled close to him.

He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, my dear?”

She looked up at him, blushing. “You looked pretty with blue hair.” She grinned.

She got a pinch to her cheek, and laughed when he pulled her onto his lap to tickle her until she took back her words. Maybe next time her prank would be something less messy.

__++__

Sick (Satan)

Her head, throat, and tummy ached. She was sick. And no one would leave her alone to sleep. Her room held 4 of the 7 demon brothers, Lucifer, Mammon, Asmo, and Satan, but he wasn’t there just then.

“Lucy, ‘m tired. Sleep?”

He shook his head. His elegant fingers brushed delicately across her cheeks where she lay in bed, feeling the heat from a fever on his fingertips. “Not yet, sweetheart. We’re waiting for Satan to bring back medicine for you. Stay awake a little longer.”

She sniffled. “Sweepy,” she whispered.

He made a sympathetic sound. “Poor darling. Soon, I promise.”

“Hey, when’s he comin’ back? My human shouldn’t be feelin’ like this for so long!”

“She looks so terrible. The poor dear.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She just wanted to sleep. Her head hurt. She loved them so much but they kept talking and it was too loud, but she was too sick to say anything and Lucifer said she had to wait for medicine before she could sleep anyways. She hated medicine, and again, she just wanted to sleep. Her eyes were drooping and in sleep she couldn’t hurt as bad, right?

The door opened. “Satan, finally. Bring it here.” Lucifer ordered.

A rustle of a plastic bag, and then a bottle cap opening was what she heard. “Why is the entire house in here? She need rest, not a party.”

“He’s correct. All of you, leave now.”

Whining from the two others, and then the door shut and it wasn’t as loud. She opened her eyes to see Satan and Lucifer there, the oldest holding a plastic weird spoon in his hand with purple liquid, the other frowning at her directly behind.

Lucifer pushed the spoon to her face. “You need to take this.”

She turned her head. “No way, nuh-uh!”

He sighed. “If you want to feel better, open your mouth and drink this. Please.”

She started to cry. “Hate it. No.”

Satan sighed, “Let me try.”

“Good luck.” Lucifer handed it to him, and took a step back for Satan to take his spot.

“If you drink this nasty stuff now, you’ll feel well much sooner. The chances of you taking it again aren’t as high. So either take a few spoonful’s of this now, or more later on. What do you prefer, kitten?”

She reluctantly opened her mouth because more medicine sounded terrible. He poured it inside, and she coughed at the yucky taste. He helped her drink some water, and then she settled back, happy to finally be able to sleep.

Lucifer looked on and smiled. It was sweet that Satan cared for her like this, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let them be for a while. “I’ll leave you alone to rest. Satan, make sure she’s looked after.”

“I will.” Once Lucifer left, Satan sat beside her and asked, “Were my brothers troubling you, kitten?”

The medicine was kicking in quick because she was even more tired, and speaking was hard. “Loud,” she said, with a pained expression.

He tutted. “They worry in their own way, I suppose. But you need to rest. Close your eyes and I’ll read to you. Cinderella, or perhaps Sleeping Beauty?”

She mumbled, “S’eeping ‘eauty.”

“Excellent choice.” He settled down beside her, and pulled the book out. One hand held it open with the ease of reading for centuries, while his other pet her head, soothing with his caring hand, coaxing her into slumber as he read about Sleeping Beauty. She fell asleep, a nasty taste in her mouth, but a lovely voice in her ear.

#obey me fanfic #obey me #shall we date obey me #shall we date obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #fanfiction #my fics #obey me fanfiction #swd om #shall we date

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abarbaricyalp · 4 years ago

Note

prompt idea for sam/steve/bucky

sharing clothes :)

All Caps, my love (this was so fun to work on because it really highlighted how differently I write them when Steve is involved)

Set in the same universe as You Don't Have to Read My Mind (to know what I have in mind) which means Nico and Hattie make a return and silver fox Commander Rogers is around

Read on AO3!

The Other Be Other

It was Nico who noticed it first, so he didn’t say jack to anyone. Well, not right away. It took him three days to break and scoot his desk chair into Hattie’s cubicle. “Hey, did you see Barnes the other day?” he asked.

Hattie’s eyelids actually fluttered. “Fuck, he looked so good,” she said. “And smelt good too.”

Nico scrunched up his nose. “He smelled like fried fish. Anyway, did you see that shirt he was wearing?”

He let Hattie think. Let her mentally redress him. “It was that blue fishing shirt, wasn’t it? Over a white t-shit. He had it open.”

“Yeah. It was a blue shirt with darker blue sharks on it,” Nico said.

“You pay a lot of attention to him. Hey, if you’re into Barnes, I’m not backing down. You’ll have to fight me for him,” she teased.

Nico blushed furiously and then willed it away because he didn’t want to explain why he was blushing or let Hattie think he was blushing because he had a crush on Barnes. “No, that’s not what I meant. Wilson was wearing the same shirt two weeks ago when he came in to file the newest report on Walker.”

Now Hattie scrunched up her nose. “Fuck that guy,” she said and Nico almost laughed.

“I would’ve thought he was your type.”

“As if,” she said. “So what? Barnes and Wilson have the same shirt.” Nico cut her an unimpressed look. “You think Barnes and Wilson are wearing the same shirt,” she clarified.

“Listen, everyone already knows Barnes wears Wilson’s Air Force hoodie,” Nico said.

“Someone said it was the new Falcon’s.”

“It’s not Joaquin’s,” Nico said quickly. Too quickly. Horrifyingly quickly.

“Oh my God, do you like the new Falcon?” Hattie asked.

“We’re not talking about the new Falcon,” Nico said. “We’re talking about Wilson and Barnes.”

“Barnes and Wilson,” Hattie corrected.

“Wilson is Captain America. He comes first.”

“You think so?” she asked with a wicked grin.

Nico blushed so hard he thought he might actually spring a fever.

* * *

“Why are you wearing that, Barnes?” Sam asked from the driver’s side of the car.

“What, you don’t like it?” Bucky asked, tossing his duffel bag into the backseat and climbing into the passenger side. “You left it in the dryer. It was the first thing I grabbed.”

“Grab your own clothes,” Sam said.

“Damn, you’re about to have Steve go down on you, can you lighten up?” Bucky snorted. “You’re high strung.” He leaned over to kiss Sam sweetly and then tried not to laugh when Sam turned it all sorts of filthy. “Save it for Steve, tiger,” he teased. “He whined all night last night about missing you and you not bein’ around to get on the phone with him.”

“He’s been up there for a week,” Sam said as he rolled his eyes. Sam had also kind of been kicking himself for managing to miss the call last night, though. It was probably why he was so grouchy this morning. “Four more hours,” he added.

“I have to swing by HQ and drop off our reports for this mission,” Bucky reminded him.

“Right, you have to do that. I’ll drop your ass off and go get my man.”

“Hey, he was mine first,” Bucky said.

“So I’ve got time to make up for.”

Bucky shoved Sam’s shoulder and got a reaming about car safety even though they were barely on the road yet.

* * *

It happened again a week later. Wilson and Barnes had been in and out of the office, always so, so, so loud. There was always an argument to be had, always a fight to pick with Fury, always something embarrassing to say about Commander Rogers. Nico couldn’t figure out why they spent so much time around the office. Rogers worked in a whole different building and Fury wanted nothing to do with either of them, as far as he could tell.

But there they were at 11 AM, complaining that it wasn’t lunch yet. At 3 in the afternoon, tempting people to leave early. At 9, right after official-opening, with coffee for everyone but Fury, who wasn’t around to see their joke anyway.

There was Sam at two in the afternoon, wearing a leather jacket that was so out of place in the middle of DC in the dead of summer in the heat of the afternoon. Nico could sweat just looking out the window. But, Sam looked really, really good in the jacket, so Nico couldn’t fault him for suffering through the heat to wear it.

Damn, maybe it was a Falcon thing with him.

And maybe Nico did watch Sam a little closely. Maybe he kept his eyes on Sam’s back while he leaned on a cubicle wall that was not strong enough to support him and all that muscle. Maybe he stared at his smooth skin and the way the jacket pulled over his shoulders and--

There was stitching around the arm of the jacket. Nico blinked a few times to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light, but there was definitely blue thread holding the arm of the jacket to the rest of it.

And actually now that he was looking at the jacket and not Sam Wilson, he recognized the pattern on it, the weird ribbing down the sides, the golden buckles on the back to adjust the waist. He’d seen that jacket before. On the news. Several months ago, he’d had to pour over news footage of a Serpent Society...attack? fight? because Barnes had been part of it and his dumb report had said, I know there’s video footage of this. That’s my statement. So Nico had needed to put together a fucking highlights reel of Barnes’ action to file the report.

He’d gotten in trouble for it too.

He pulled the file up on his computer and watched the footage for a second to make sure it was the same jacket. And it was, except Barnes had ripped the sleeve off of his to show his metal arm. The left arm. The arm resewn onto this jacket.

The video suddenly cut into sound, making Nico jump. Sam Wilson looked over at him, at the footage on the computer and Barnes flipping over cars to avoid gunfire in that jacket. He reached over to shut the player off on Nico’s computer. “You work too hard, kid,” he said. “Barnes is never gonna give you a day off if you don’t take it.”

“Ha, how’d you know he’s always stuck...I mean, assigned Sergeant Barnes’ reports?” Hattie asked.

Sam shot Nico a knowing look and Nico panicked, thinking Sam knew that Nico knew about more than the $100 on his desk and a missing file. But that was impossible. It was just because of the note and bribery.

Bribery from Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Jesus, what was his life?

* * *

“This was a eight hundred dollar jacket,” Steve scolded. The irritation on his face, coupled with his silver hair and those damn broad shoulders, was doing all sorts of things to Sam that Sam didn’t want to analyze too deeply. He mostly wanted to sit back and snicker at Bucky getting in trouble.

“I’m just gonna rip that arm off again,” Bucky said boredly, one leg tucked under him on the couch where he was lounging, the other thrown over Steve’s back. “Why blue thread?” he asked eventually.

“To shame you into not doing this shit again,” Sam said.

“Color theory,” Steve answered.

“There’s no color theory to using royal blue thread in a black jacket. It’s not even navy,” Bucky said.

“You wanna do it?” Steve asked.

“Obviously not. Can name a lot of other things I do want to do though.”

Steve threw the jacket at Bucky’s face instead of answering. Sam jumped up to snag it before Bucky could toss it across the room.

“What’re you doin’?” Bucky lilted up at him, turning bright blue eyes towards him from the arm of the couch. Sam reached out to stroke his thumb over Bucky’s jaw and then down his arched neck.

“Gonna wear it ‘til it stops smelling like the two of you,” he said. And then gasped and dropped the jacket as Steve was suddenly right on top of him, pressing him to the wall and kissing down his neck.

“Damn, I’ve gotta tear more shit up more often if this is what it gets me,” Bucky hummed and did something with a zipper and his metal hand that Sam could guess at but did not want to tear his eyes away from Steve to confirm.

* * *

“Holy shit,” Hattie breathed, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.

To read the reports from the heroes was one thing. Nico had read about so many bones sticking through skin that the image had started to lose its gruesomeness. He’d never been in a firefight and he’d only been a baby during the Battle of New York and during the Triskelion event in DC a few years after. Sure, he’d been around for the Blip, had struggled through five years without half the population, and then struggled through the next years after everyone reappeared, but that wasn’t the same kind of trauma as this. And he’d still only been a kid. He didn’t know what was going on then.

Now, watching from every screen in the room and occasionally out the window, he knew he was watching something terrible. He didn’t personally know any of the heroes, but it felt like watching friends being beaten and knocked down.

“Was that Hawkeye?” someone asked.

“No, that was a girl.”

“Who’s wearing Captain Marvel’s star?”

“Oh God, Spiderman just fell.”

“Wait, the new Falcon caught him.”

“Is the Hulk still fighting that thing in the ground?”

“Yeah, Thor’s still knocked out too.”

“Where’s Captain America?”

Nico pinched his arm until Hattie reached for his hand to stop him. Suddenly, a flash of red, white, and blue crashed onto a roof, drawing the attention of whatever mystic hell demon was leading the fire and brimstone charge on downtown DC.

“Oh, shit, hell yeah, Sam Wilson!” someone cheered and then everyone groaned when some lizard-like-thing knocked Sam flying with a spiked tail to the midsection.

“Wait,” Hattie said, mostly to Nico. “That’s not Sam.”

And, yeah, that was an understatement. It wasn’t his outfit and even the cowl couldn’t hide that it was a white guy under all those stars and stripes.

“Fuck, is Walker really gonna try it?” Hattie asked.

“It’s not Walker,” Nico said. “Walker doesn’t have access to the Falcon wings. Or the original Cap suit.”

Not-Wilson, Not-Walker, Not-Captain-America struggled to his feet, holding his arm around his ribs, to face the demon thing. A news drone flew closer so the coverage could pick up on the creature rasping and snarling out words.

“Captain America, you’re the one we’re looking for,” it growled.

“Yeah,” Not-Cap said, nodding his head tiredly. “That’s what I heard.”

“Oh my God,” Hattie breathed again.

“It’s Barnes,” Nico confirmed. Wearing a sleeve and glove, clean shaven, in the red, white, and blue. In the wings.

“Is he...is he acting like...bait or something? If that thing wants Cap…”

Nico shook his head. “No, not bait. He’s a red herring. He’s distracting it for Sam.”

“We want a pure soul. A fine example to be made.” The creature’s voice suddenly changed, along with its face, talons growing from its hands, a tail curling against the roof they were on. “The righteous ones make the best sounds when we flay them.”

Barnes grimaced. “You’re gonna be really disappointed in the sounds mine makes then,” he said. In a blink, he had a gun drawn from an invisible holster and shot the creature. It howled and writhed and smoke rose from boiling lesions on its body. Something splashed back on the drone and almost immediately, the drone went out of service.

On another screen, another news source, another camera, the lizard that had attacked Barnes earlier scrambled across the roof towards him again and Bucky went flying back, literally. The wings lifted him into the air, but not quickly enough. The lizard leapt up too, caught claws in Bucky’s leg and scored gashes down his thigh and calf as it fell away and then tried to climb back up. Bucky shot at it with the same gun he’d shot the demon with but it had less effect. He kicked at the lizard’s head with his good leg and urged the wings to take him higher. Again, the lizard scored down his leg and Bucky was obviously in pain as he tried to kick it free again. Eventually he must have hit a soft spot and the thing fell off, taking chunks of uniform and God knows what else with it.

This camera was too far away to pick up any words, but Nico saw Bucky’s hand go to his ear, to a comm. Then he was flying back down to the same roof. Another drone swooped in and everyone moved to the screen broadcasting that channel.

“Humans are messy creatures,” Barnes said to the struggling figure on the roof. It shifted again, acid and fluids and skin staying behind on the roof as it turned into something with feathers. “I don’t think you’ll be impressed with many of our souls. They’re all fucked up in one way or another.” He blinked tears and sweat out of his eyes and Nico wondered how badly he wanted to take the cowl off. He hated having his face covered. It was one thing he did manage to write in his reports.

“You’re a liar,” the creature said.

“You’re not the first to call me that,” Barnes agreed. “Definitely the ugliest though.”

“You’re a child playing dress up. You’re not Captain America.”

“Nah, they gave the job to the more good looking guy,” Bucky agreed and took the gun out again.

Nico wasn’t sure if he took a step to get closer or if his messed up leg finally gave out, but in the split second that he had to readjust, another animal demon, something catlike and long, lunged at him, at his arm, and sent him sprawling onto the roof.

“Bucky!” someone in the room cried as the demon towered over him, lifted itself on oily wings, talons like swords pointed to Bucky’s body as he tried to crawl away on a bad leg and bad arm.

And then something even darker crashed into the demon mid-air. The Winter Soldier? That wasn’t possible. Bucky was on the ground. But there was that silver arm, the heavy black tactical gear, holsters in every size and shape. That fucking mask that Nico wanted to burn himself the longer he read Bucky’s reports.

“That’s Sam!” Hattie shouted and then clapped a hand over her mouth. Her other hand tightened in Nico’s and they both stepped closer to each other. Sam grappled with the demon in flight. He was far nimbler on the wings, more dexterous and faster. He had something silver in his hand, a blade of some kind. Occasionally it glowed and it was the only way Nico could tell the demon and Sam apart, to find an end to the black wings and find Sam’s stealth wings, to make sure Sam was still in one piece.

The blade glowed as it made contact with the demon’s midsection and Sam wrenched it all the way up its body. Ichor and acid spilled onto the roof and now Nico’s hand tightened in Hattie’s as the news drone panned down quickly to watch the blood fall. To watch Joaquin pull Bucky out of the way, using the Falcon wings as covering as he did so.

The drone refocused on Sam, who had the stealth wings driven into either side of the demon’s neck, another weapon in his hand, something beaming and sharp. Redwing appeared directly in front of the drone before Sam made contact with the demon. The body fell out of frame in a split second and then Redwing was gone too.

Sam just about crashed down to the roof. There was blood running the length of his face and a swollen eye, scratches down his weapons arm. The kevlar was torn apart, but he seemed to be in one piece. He ripped the mask off of his face, jaw and mouth protected, no broken bones or loose hinges, yanked away the silver cast he’d had on his left arm, and there were no injuries on that side either.

Demonic creatures squealed and writhed where they’d been, decaying into blood and ash and stone. One was too close to Joaquin and Bucky, but it stopped too, claws just short of Joaquin’s jetpack.

Sam was running over to them before the wings could even retract fully. He skidded to his knees by Bucky’s body, lifted him up, held him close with an arm around his back, the other hand going to the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky reached for Sam’s arm with his human hand, covered in blood, bones sticking out of his forearm, elbow smashed visibly. Still, he put his hand on Sam’s arm, tried to squeeze it.

Sam brought their foreheads together.

* * *

“Stop moving,” Steve said. Normally, he would have snapped it. Reminiscent of a thousand bad nights in their apartment in the thirties. Stop moving, Stevie, you’ll upset your lungs. Stop moving, Stevie, those knuckles are never gonna heal. Stop moving, Stevie, you’ll press your cold toes against my leg again.

He reached over for the water cup Bucky wanted and helped him drink it slowly. When Bucky started to cough, Sam jolted awake on his other side. “What’s happening?” he asked, blinking blearily and scratching at the gauze over his eye.

“Bucky never learned how to swallow,” Steve said.

All three of them took in a breath to make a joke but none of them actually said it outloud. It felt too wrong. The air was still too raw. Everything about them was still raw.

Raw. Flayed.

Steve turned and retched into the sink on the other side of the room. A moment later, Sam’s hand found his back and gently rubbed between his shoulder blades. He was using the left hand, Steve figured. There were no bandages rubbing on Steve’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said for the millionth time in the twenty hours since the fight. “I should have never sent you out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve,” Bucky sighed. “There were a dozen other heroes out there. Most of them kids. We weren’t gonna sit around and do nothing.”

“I told you to make the sacrifice play. I told you to fight through it.” When Sam dropped something over his shoulders, something warm and smelling of disinfectant but also Sam’s cologne, he curled his fingers in it and hide his face against it.

“Yeah, ‘cause we’ve never been hurt before,” Bucky agreed. “Get over here, you dope,” he said and patted the bed with his metal arm.

Steve and Sam went back to the bed. There was enough room for Steve to sit with one leg kicked down the bed and the other resting over the edge, on the floor. Sam carefully sat on his lap like Steve had been the one in the fight. Like Steve might be hurt. Steve hugged his arms around Sam’s midsection and rested his cheek on the back of Sam’s shoulder, wrapped Sam’s blanket around him too.

“You know,” Sam said and then had to reach for the water himself. Sulfur was hell on the throat as it turned out. “You looked damn good in that outfit, Barnes,” he tried again. “But don’t go getting any ideas about changing your name.”

Bucky laughed, soft and a little pained, metal arm going around his ribs again. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I’m banging fifty percent of all Captains America. If I took on the mantle, I’d skew my own numbers.”

Steve tsked on his other side and ran a hand through Bucky’s hair gently. “Behave, Barnes.”

“I’m sure there’s some sort of toy out there that’s supposed to emulate the Winter Soldier,” Sam said. “You could probably technicality your way out of it. Plus your own fingers,” he pointed out. “Then you’d be up to sixty percent.”

“Jesus,” Steve breathed and turned his eyes Heavenward. “Neither one of you would’ve done the job for what that thing wanted,” he said.

“Wow, Rogers, was that a joke about our near-death experience?” Bucky asked. But he couldn’t keep the faux outrage up. He grinned and reached for Steve’s hand against Sam’s thigh.

Steve kissed Sam’s shoulder and then brought Bucky’s knuckles to his mouth. “I’m so fucking happy you’re both okay,” he whispered softly. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had happened.”

“Nothing did, Steve,” Sam said, turning to catch Steve’s lips on his. “You had a solid plan and we executed it like you said we would. We’re a good team.” He kissed him again and then reached over to rub his thumb along Bucky’s wrist so he didn’t feel too left out.

“Besides, if anything did happen, you’d become the first American to have to go to hell to get his lovers out. It’s normally a Greek thing, I think,” Bucky said.

Steve rolled his eyes, exasperated and so, so, so lucky in love.

* * *

“Do you think...they’re in trouble?” Hattie ventured, staring at the locked office door that they’d all been barred from coming near when Wilson, Barnes, and Rogers had walked in two hours earlier.

It had been three weeks since the Spawning, as people around the office, and literally no one else, was calling it. In that time, Nico had seen neither hide nor hair of any of them, or even really Fury. All of their projects had been granted stays of deadline and Nico had even been invited into a committee to sort through the reports of the Spawning. Mostly because Wilson and Barnes were both involved and that was basically only his M.O. now.

He hadn’t seen Fury call Wilson, Barnes, and Rogers in. Granted, they weren’t in their normal office space. The committee had actually been moved to Commander Rogers’ building. He’d been the commanding officer of the mission to take down the Spawning, so it was just easier to stay at his beck-and-call.

“It’s not Rogers’ office, is it?” Hattie asked.

Nico flipped another pencil into the ceiling. “No. His is a big corner office with all the windows.”

Hattie stood on her chair and yanked three pencils down. “So whose office is that?” she asked.

“Hat, I moved over here at the same time you did,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I know you’re cozy with Torres and he knows shit like that.”

“I am not!” Nico insisted like he always had to when the subject came up. “Besides, he’s Air Force, not Shield. Sam gave him the wings. He’s a freelancer.”

“Too bad. There’s no money in freelancing. You’ll have to be the bread-winner.”

Nico dragged his hands over his face. A pencil fell from the ceiling and hit him in the head. “Maybe it’s an empty office. A meeting room. Maybe they’re having a National Icons Meeting.”

“Maybe. I have to pee. Text me if anything happens?”

Nico gave her a half-hearted salute and slouched down in his chair. Of course, almost immediately the door opened and Steve Rogers stepped out.

Nico was so entirely fucked once again.

Because Steve Rogers was disheveled. Unkempt. Messy. Taken apart. Wrecked. In a very good way.

Nico brought his hand over his face but kept looking through his fingers.

Steve Rogers’ hair was sticking up every which way and there were at least three hickies on his neck. And one on his shoulder, which Nico could see because he was in that damn shark shirt, unbuttoned and half off his shoulder. There was a whole entire bite mark around his collarbone.

Steve Rogers looked around the hallway and glanced over the office and didn’t see Nico apparently. He tugged the shirt on straight and buttoned most of the buttons, except for two that Nico was pretty sure were missing at the top. And then, and then, he put on the jacket with the ribbing and the buckles and the dumb blue thread.

Steve Rogers ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Just in time for the office door to open again and to have Bucky Barnes, with a lot of skin showing, appear and say loudly, “You took Sam’s underwear,” and haul him back into the room with the metal arm. Nico heard the door lock.

He slowly crawled out of the office, ran into Hattie in the next hall.

“Hey, did anything happen?” she asked, drying her hands on her pants.

“Nope,” Nico squeaked unconvincingly. “Just got sent home for the day.”

“Sweet,” she said. “Wanna go get some lunch?”

Nico nodded silently even though he wasn’t sure if he should try eating. He really needed to ask for that transfer.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #all caps #writing

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daydream-hobii · 5 years ago

Text

Hybrid Heart Attack | Chapter 10

Genre: Poly!AU; Hybrid!AU; Fluff; Angst

Pairing: BTS x Female!Reader; Human!Seokjin x Human!Reader; Eventual relationship with Snow Leopard!Yoongi, Red Panda!Hoseok, Koala!Namjoon, Calico Cat!Jimin, Husky!Taehyung, Doberman!Jungkook

Summary: Y/n finds her current fiance during college, his name is Seokjin. They fell in love and dated for three years before he proposed. Now, Seokjin is a lawyer for hybrids, and Y/n, well, she has the perfect stay at home job. When Seokjin invites her to move in, she wasn’t expecting that he has six hybrids. She doesn’t know why a hybrid lawyer wouldn’t have hybrids, she just didn’t think about it…. Y/n is petrified of hybrids, something happened to her when she was little…. Guess she’ll have to adapt… or leave.

Warning: Mentions of Animal Attacks, Abuse (Physical & Mental), Depression, Anxiety; Possible PTSD mentions; Suggestions of Smut; Read with caution. <3

Word Count: 1,363

// Previous // Next //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 10! I’m so sorry it took forever. T-T BUT I finally have it here!! I hope you all enjoy it!! ^_^

I woke up the next morning, extra warm. Jimin was no longer with me, leaving a chilly spot in the bed. I looked to see on the bedside table was a polaroid of Jimin and I cuddling in bed. A note at the bottom of it said, I am so proud of you. It was from Seokjin. I smiled a little, my heart beating fast with the love I felt.

I picked it up, smiling at the image. When I stood up, I slowly walked to my office, admiring the photo. As I entered, I went to the large bulletin board hanging on the wall, pinning the photo up with all of Taehyung’s notes from the beginning.

I practically skipped downstairs, going to the kitchen where everyone was. They were always in the kitchen in the morning, so this was no surprise. What was abnormal was Seokjin cooking. He loved to cook, but has had little to no time to do it since the law firm required so much of him.

“Good morning,” I said, walking over and wrapping my hands around his waist, my head resting on his back.

“Morning,” Seokjin chuckled. “You’re loving today.”

“It’s just nice to see you home,” I said, but it came as a mumble in his back.

Seokjin paused, placing his towel from his shoulder onto the counter. He turned around, leaning on the counter and wrapping his arms around my waist. I placed my hands on his chest, leaning into him. I smiled, standing up on my toes and pecking his lips.

“I’ve missed you,” I whispered.

“Well, you’ve definitely had nice company,” Seokjin said, smirking.

“He was scared of the storm last night,” I replied. “I couldn’t just leave him out there.”

“You both looked so comfortable,” Seokjin mumbled, pecking my lips again.

“This is sickening,” Yoongi groaned. I turned my head in time to see him put his forehead on the island. Jimin and Taehyung were staring with heart eyes, sighing in contentment.

“You love it,” Seokjin said, pecking my temple and making me laugh.

“Well, I feel you two should go on a date,” Hoseok said.

“I agree, you two haven’t been loving for a while,” Namjoon said, glasses on as he looked between us. “The wedding is coming up soon, so I feel you two need to have a night to yourselves.”

“Yeah! You two need a romantic date,” Taehyung cooed, a big boxy smile on his face.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Seokjin said, making me look up at him with big eyes, a smile on my face.

“Oh, we haven’t been on a date in months!” I exclaimed, excitement bubbling in my belly. “Should we go to the movies? Or maybe to the park to walk along the river?”

“How about a romantic, fancy dinner?” Seokjin asked, a grin on his lips. My eyes sparkled at the thought.

“Oh, yes! Where we can get dressed up!” I exclaimed once more.

“I’ll help you pick an outfit!” Taehyung exclaimed, hopping up and grabbing my hand, dragging me upstairs. My excitement for the date was so strong that the sudden movement from Taehyung didn’t surprise me.

“Hey, I wanna help!” Jimin exclaimed. I heard him following, with another set of footsteps. Once we reached the bedroom, Jimin had joined us along with Jungkook. He had on a bright smile, tail wagging slightly. When he saw my shocked expression, a blush ran across his cheeks.

“I… I’d like to help too,” Jungkook whispered. I smiled, nodding my head.

Later that evening, the three boys had helped me pick out a dress and some heels. My dress was floor length, slick to my body. On one side, from mid thigh down, there was a slit, so you could see my leg. The sleeves went off my shoulders, exposing my collarbone. My heels were black, straps lacing around my feet and ankles. Taehyung picked this out.

Jungkook did my hair. It was in perfect curls and it laid in a way that was out of my face. Jimin did my makeup. It was darker than normal, a black smokey eye with mascara and winged eyeliner. My lips matched the color of my dress.

As I looked into the large mirror, I bit my lip. Was this too much? The boys seemed to know where we were going, so they obviously would know how I should dress, but this seemed like a lot. The boys were in the mirror, smiling bright at their work.

“Is it too much?” I asked, smoothing the dress down.

“You look stunning,” Taehyung whispered, a light blush rolling over his cheeks.

“Honey, are you ready?” I heard Seokjin call up.

“Be down in a minute!” I yelled back. I picked up my purse, walking down the stairs, the three boys on my tail.

Once I reached their line of vision, Seokjin’s face paled as his mouth dropped slightly. He was looking at me up and down and, honestly, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. I saw Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok peek around the corner to see me. Hoseok made a wolf whistle, only furthering my shyness. I watched Namjoon shove him slightly, an amused smile growing on the red panda’s face.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” I asked, biting my lip. Seokjin was in a black tuxedo, looking sharp.

“No, it’s,” Seokjin choked out, coughing to clear his throat before continuing. “It’s perfect. You look amazing.”

I smiled softly, nodding. I walked the rest of the way down as he offered his arm. I took it, smiling as we walked out the door, saying our goodbyes to the boys.

The restaurant Seokjin had chosen was one of the more elite ones. If anything, it seemed I was under-dressed compared to most. The dinner was delicious and we could talk about… everything. By dessert, we were all caught up on our lives.

“How are you and the boys?” Seokjin asked, hesitating. He had his arms crossed on the table, but was still able to eat the large ice cream in the middle of the table. I took a quick bite, wiping my mouth with the napkin.

“I think I’m okay,” I replied, smiling softly. “I’m not viewing them as hybrids that will hurt me anymore, which is nice…. I, also, think… I love them.” Seokjin sighed in relief, a smile playing on his lips.

“That is so… perfect…. I’ve missed you, Y/n” Seokjin said, uncrossing his arms and reaching over, holding my hand. Before I could respond, there was an interruption.

“Jinnie?” A voice sounded, making us both look towards it. A gorgeous woman was walking towards us, a bright smile on her face. Her teeth were pearly white, a beautiful tan making her skin glisten. She was in a slick black dress, hair pinned up.

“Sooyoung?” Seokjin said, making me look at him in surprise. “Oh my god, how are you? When’d you come back to town?” Seokjin stood up, hugging the gorgeous woman.

“Not too long ago, I moved back for work,” She exclaimed. Her eyes fell on me, making me feel squeamish under her gaze. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, Sooyoung, this is my fiance, Y/n,” Seokjin said, proudly. A glint flashed in the woman's eyes as she kept her smile. I stood up, extending my hand and smiling. She shook it.

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Sooyoung said.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked. Seokjin seemed to gulp, but Sooyoung wouldn’t let him talk.

“Oh, we dated throughout high school and some of college,” Sooyoung said, grinning. “He was so sweet. I’m sure he’s the same to you.” My heart sank, but I kept it off my face. Seokjin dated someone so gorgeous…. I’m a downgrade compared….

“Well, I must get going back to my family,” Sooyoung said. “You still have my number, right? We must get together. I’d love to see your precious hybrids again! God, I miss them.”

“Of course,” Seokjin said, only making my heart sink further. “I’m sure they miss you just as much! We’ll talk.”

“Alright! Bye,” She said, to us, wiggling her fingers. This night was almost perfect….

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wherelightanddarkmerge · 4 years ago

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Chapter One: Dim The Lights

Virgil blinked, shocked at what Thomas had done, at what he was letting Janus do. "But- but I already protect you..?" he said, hoping he had somehow misunderstood, that they weren’t really calling Janus “Self-Preservation” now.

Thomas began, "Well yeah but-"

Nope. Not a misunderstanding, then. "But he does it better. I get it." And then Virgil sank out.

Logan, Patton and Thomas all shouted "NO!", but they were too late.

The room went silent. Patton whispered, "Quack?" in concern.

Thomas said, "We have to go after him."

Janus said, "Maybe not me."

Logan said they should let him cool down first.

Roman only appeared in the video briefly, but he showed up when Virgil wasn't there. When he mentioned the Anxious side, the others looked away and muttered something about Virgil needing to calm down. Roman gritted his teeth; all he could think about was how the new 'hero' was just letting Virgil suffer. After only a few minutes, he left in anger and went to paint Virgil’s nails.

Virgil quietly told him, "They don't want me anymore."

Roman said, "They don't want me either, but I'm not gonna leave just for them. I, for one, am staying, and they can't do anything about it.”

Virgil stared at the nail polish on his hands. "If it's Dark Sides they want..." He took a deep breath, his eye-shadow blackening, "It's Dark Sides they'll get."

Roman quickly interjected. "No! No, that's not what I meant! We need to show them that we're still the good guys."

Virgil looked up and asked with a hitch in his voice, "Did they ever really think I was a good guy?"

"I did." Roman whispered, unsure if that was enough. It wasn't.

"You'd be the first. Even I know I'm the bad guy, Roman. If Janus can be accepted, and Remus can be... tolerated, but I can't, what does that mean? They never trusted me."

Roman searched his memory desperately for something to reassure Virgil with. "What about that whole Hogwarts houses thing? That was specifically to help you feel more part of the group."

"That was to make me shut up about the hair," Virgil contradicted.

Maybe it was due to Virgil’s room, or maybe because Virgil was speaking with such rare sureness, or maybe deep down Roman believed it too, but it became harder to not believe Virgil's words. "Surely, you can't- can't believe that, Virgil."

"How many times do I have to tell you Roman?" He stared away, dejected, "Villains get two things. The best song," Virgil's theme started playing softly, Roman's own theme mixed in subtly, "And the worst backstories." He stared off again, "The only way to get them to listen is to be scary.. Even afterwards ‘accepting’ me, that's how it is. Remember Patton's room?"

"What about it?" Roman asked. "A lot happened. We made a bunch of Guys and Dolls references, we talked about Thomas's ex, you helped us figure out why Thomas was having trouble moving on--"

"And I had to scream at Thomas before anyone noticed I was panicking and Logan decided to," He waved a hand wildly, "Just, leave!"

"Oh," said Roman. "That-- that was pretty bad..."

At perhaps the worst possible moment, Patton knocked on the door. "Hey, kiddo? I know you're upset right now. Do you want to talk?"

Virgil’s eye-shadow turned the darkest of pitch black, the color growing to surround his eyes. He tried to talk, his tempest tongue breaking through, "Not right-" He took a deep breath, "Not right now Pat.."

"O-okay," said Patton, caught off guard by Virgil's voice, though he knew he shouldn't be. "I'll leave you alone. Let me know if you change your mind."

Virgil collapsed back on his bed, taking deep gasping breaths. "I'm telling you Ro, you have to be the bad guy-" His voice went back again and he faltered slightly, "You have to be, if you want anyone to listen."

“But haven't we been specifically working on not listening to the bad guys?" asked Roman. He was grasping at straws at this point, looking for a way to prove that Virgil wasn't right, that he could still be the hero, and Virgil could still be the dark and stormy knight.

"If they aren't listening to bad guys, Janus wouldn't be out there right now! Remus would still be unknown to Thomas!" He glanced over at Roman, "Sounds like it's me and you getting ignored."

"Is... is it really the only way?" Roman asked mournfully.

"I hate it as much as you do," said Virgil. "I wouldn't be saying it if there was another option. We have to do this."

Roman stared at the ground for a few seconds, and when he looked up, there were tears in his eyes as he said, "All right, Virgil. I'm with you."

Virgil took a deep breath, unsure for a moment if he could go back. Back to being hated and everyone insulting him and not understanding that he's trying to help. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his old hoodie, but it was different now. There was deep purple running down the seams, like a sick reminder of who he could have been. His eye shadow was darker than ever, and it looked like cracks running down his face, highlighted by startling bright purple. When he spoke, it was still the slow, hesitant voice as always, but his tempest tongue was more... prominent. "Roman... meet.. ah- You probably remember Paranoia."

"And what do I do?" Roman asked.

"I think..." Virgil paused. "We don't want you looking like Remus or the King. You should probably be gold, shiny, but dark too. So..." Virgil motioned towards Roman, and now he was in a black uniform with twisting, curling gold thread spreading from the place directly over his heart, extending up to his neck and halfway across and down his chest. A gold sheath hanging from a black sword belt was at his hip. There were hints of red everywhere-- shadowing the golden curls, lurking at the seams. "What do you say to abandoning the pretty boy prince and replacing him with the General?"

Roman looked over his outfit in Virgil's- or, Paranoia's mirror, which wasn't doing its usual chants of pointing out insecurities. It was silent, Virgil had shut it up with a wave of his hand. Roman glanced at himself in it, and instead of being horrified, he drew himself up. They had to listen to someone like this, "I'd say I agree. But it needs one more thing.. To show we're on the same side." Eye shadow appeared on his eyes, not under like Virgil's, but on and above, like normal. It was a dark, deep, red, and Virgil grinned.

"You know, Roman, we're not quite 'Dark Sides', are we?" he said.

"No, we aren't," Roman agreed. "We want nothing to do with Remus and Janus. We're something new."

"We're Umbra Sides." Virgil said this with an odd finality in his voice. "We're Umbra."

"Umbra," Roman whispered, grinning. "I like that. It means shadows and stuff right?" Virgil's room shifted to accommodate to the changes. It was mostly the same, but the shelf where he kept keepsakes from the others was hidden, only Roman's gifts- sweaters and Disney posters, allowed now. It seemed darker now too, and the shadows that usually tormented Virgil seemed... frightened of him. Like he was their merciless ruler. Or perhaps they weren’t used to him acting so confident. Who knew, they were shadows.

"Exactly," said Virgil. "And-- and we're together now, we've got each other's backs, right?"

"We'll never be alone again, Virgil." He held out a pinky. Yeah, it was childish, but it was pure, something neither of them would dare to ruin. "Pinky Promise."

Virgil smiled and linked his finger with Roman's. "Pinky promise." After a few moments of hesitation, he asked, "Would you stay here with me tonight? You seem to be doing all right in my room now."

"Yes, I noticed that. Any idea why?" He summoned a sleeping bag, as Virgil snapped his fingers. Little fairy lights turned on, blinking different colors. Despite everything, Roman and Virgil were still Roman and Virgil.

"Maybe because last time, I was Dark and you were Light. It clashed. But now we're the same. Does that make sense?"

"We're the same," Roman repeated.

Virgil smiled. He'd never been the same as anyone before. He wasn't like the dark sides. And he wasn't like the light. He waved his hand and soft Disney lullabies played, lights dimming. "Good Night, General Roman."

"Good night, Paranoia," said Roman.

From outside the room where the Umbra Sides lay, Patton cast a regretful glance at Virgil's door, then paused. No, he was sure that he was only imagining it. The door hadn't darkened.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders

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bearseokie · 5 years ago

Text

Fortune for the Well-Being (M) | BTS

image isn’t mine, credit to the owner.

↠ genre: ot7, mafia! au, angst, smut

↠ warnings: mature content, graphic details, violence, language, detailed torment, blood, murder, use of weapons, sexual acts, gore, etc.

↠ words: 2.2k

↠ summary: Seven men are chosen to perform in a plan to erase one of the largest mafias in the states.

↠ A/N: idk when I'll get the full fic written, I just wanted to toss it out there for future purposes.

Prologue

Park Jimin.

The speakers boomed, lights flashing different colors as eyes shifted around. Drinks were splashed on to other people, the smell of liquor so thick in the air that your eyes would burn and water. Gold stanchions line the aisle of magenta carpet, felt rope creating a barrier between who was important and who wasn't. The back of the building sat colder, lights dimmer, and fewer people crowded around. Large bodyguards stood at doorways, nodding as those who seemed fit to be in the special area passed by.

Behind thin walls and curtains, sins were being passed around. Men flirted with women, seducing them into plans they'd both regret in the morning. People wore little to no clothing, being tossed around like ragdolls at anyone that seemed horny. A darker room sat in the very back left, concealed by a thin, black wall. Windows covered by red curtains, moans came from the circle-lighted room. The large couch against the wall curved to fit the entire room for any activity preferred by the owner.

And there the owner sat on a rainy, Thursday night. Gripping a girl's hair as she bobbed on his length. Jimin's head was back against the leather couch, lips parted with light sounds applauding the girl's motions. Another girl was to his left sucking on his neck, careful to not break the skin, as that was a rule he enforced on everyone in the club. His right hand was palming her large breast as she moaned, pushing into his touch.

The movement of the girl's mouth wrapped around him didn't stop as the papers were handed to him, halting him palming at the second girl to his side to take them from the tall bodyguard, a curious look on his face. Scanning over the top page of the stack, a burst of delirious laughter came from him, his now free hand motioning the other girl to stop and for both to leave him. He pulled himself back into his pants, leaving them undone as he crossed his left ankle over his right knee, opening the pages to skim over the words.

"What a fucking joke," he claimed.

Kim Namjoon.

The small office buzzed with workers, the staff stumbling over one another trying to finish work for the day. A light knock on the office door made everyone freeze, time almost stopping in place. People held their coffee in their mouths, afraid to swallow, staplers were held down to keep from popping back up, copy and fax machines were immediately turned off in fear of a loud sound that would anger their boss while he spoke.

"You're all welcome to leave early," Namjoon called, the door slowly shutting closed and lock clicking.

Sighs of relief filled the office, people scrambling to collect their belongings as everyone moved toward the stairs and elevators with glee. The office became dead quiet, the only sound being made inside the locked room. Muffled screams came from the man sitting before his desk, a bandanna wrapped around his head while another was stuffed in his mouth as he cried in pain. His fingers gripped the arms of the chair as a pen was severed into his right hand, a pair of scissors breaking the skin of his left hand as it threatened to enter just as the other did. The interrogation scene was working as the man aggressively nodded, breaking as the bandannas were removed. Telling Namjoon all that he knew about a businessman that was planning to invade one of Namjoon's businesses, he would soon prevail and the threat would be eliminated.

The man was walked to the elevator and taken care of by the man guarding the building. Returning to his office, a stack of paper was noticeably sat on his desk, small drops of blood now soaking through the top few pages. Bending over the desk, he read the top page, opening the stack and reading over each sheet before he threw himself back into his office chair.

"This will be interesting." he shook his head, turning to his left to look out the wall to floor windows at the dusk-fulled sky.

Jung Hoseok.

"P-Please!" the man shouted, getting kicked into oblivion by Hoseok standing over him.

The concrete was no pillow to him, skin already matted by the cracked cement under him. Hoseok's hands gripped his white shirt, lifting him against the wall as his head rammed into the brick. The street was empty, sunset colors eliminating over the two of them as they both wrestled against each other. A stack of paper had been sprawled on the concrete below the two men, now covered in marks and dirt from their shoes. The man had walked up behind him, handing Hoseok the papers that were neatly together with a binder clip. The man didn't realize who he handed them to until he was flipped to the ground, his face immediately meeting the pavement.

"I'm just the delivery guy, man!" he pleaded.

His reply was neglected as a strong punch launched at his jaw, blood spilling from his mouth and onto the Hoseok's fists.

A few more hits were swung before Hoseok believed he learned his lesson, nodding in approval as he watched the man slide down the wall and back on to the concrete pavement. Looking around him, he noticed all the papers scrambled on the ground as he bent down to retrieve them, reading them slowly with furrowed brows.

"What the fuck is this mess?" he questioned, balling the papers up as he glanced around the scene before him, dumbfounded as he shrugged and walked off carrying the pages.

Min Yoongi.

"Don't think about using that anywhere near me." Yoongi's teeth clenched as he spoke, the man in the suit shooting him a weary look while he glanced over the armory, an AK held tight in his hands.

The white walls behind the weapons shined under the bright lights hanging from the ceiling, the large door ajar while they held the transaction. Heading back for the open door, the large man stopped suddenly as Yoongi stomped up to him, his jaw clenched tight with a firm look on his face. The room was silent as his finger lifted to the taller man's chest.

"If I even hear a whisper about where you got these guns from, I'll kill you on sight the next time you see me." he threatened.

The man violently nodded, swaying around him as he made a quick rush from the armory and out of the building, seagulls calling out as he opened the door of the large garage and slammed it shut. Yoongi sighed, shutting down the armory as he locked the door back, making his way toward the old, wooden piano sat against the wall of the garage. Taking a seat on the bench, his eyes caught sight of the thick stack sitting beside his note booklet. Running his eyes over the cover page, he scoffed and placed his booklet in front of the stack, fingers grazing over the keys as a melody echoed through the almost empty space.

Kim Seokjin.

Cameras flashed, screams and whines calling his name as he waltzed past the crowd and into the building. His assistant scampered behind him, attempting to keep up with a coffee in one hand, a stack of papers in the other. A man held the doors open for Jin, the scent of makeup and fresh clothing seeping into his nostrils as he let out a deep breath, peering around the room as people rushed around to set up the photo shoot scheduled for today.

"I said I'm not interested." Jin's eyes rolled as he noticed the stack of paper still in his assistant's arms. "It's not for me."

His assistant whined once more but kept quiet as he left to change into the preferred outfit for the photo shoot. Everyone cheered at him as he gathered attention to his poses, gleaming like it was his place to be in front of a camera. The stack was tossed into the garbage while he worked, fake smiles shaped on his face to fool the staff around him that his morning hadn't been tough. That he hadn't been in a high-speed chase with some maniac with an assault rifle.

The shoot ended, an airy dressing room ready for him to rest in once the cameras were shut off. The light blue walls were soothing as he stepped into the medium-sized room, settling into the area. He headed for the couch, finding a bottle of wine and glass set on the coffee table beside the same stack of papers from earlier.

"I told you, no!" he yelled, cheeks red as his assistant stumbled into the room with a worried look. "I thought you threw this away!"

"I did!" they claimed, shaking their head as they exited the dressing room, escaping the words tossed at them by Jin as he flipped the pages over and over until he got to the last one, going silent.

"Hmm," he said to himself. "Maybe this could work out."

Jeon Jungkook.

Loud groans came from two men as their wrists held them up off the ground, chains clinking in the hold of the ceiling as they swung back and forth. Jungkook was pacing before them, moving around with a cheeky grin on his face. His eyebrow was cut open, blood seeping down his face and dripping on to his chest as he walked. A large table sat in the corner of the meat locker, an array of knives and tools set out, usually for use of the meat kept stored, but in this case, revenge. He walked towards the table, index finger running over each of the sharp objects as he lifted a large machete up and faced the two men.

"This one?" he asked innocently.

The men swung faster, faces red in anger as they spouted ways they'd hurt the younger man. He nodded, setting the machete back on the table and picking up a simple screwdriver before turning back to the two, swaying men.

"This one!" he called with another grin as he walked before one of the men, who kicked out his leg at him. Instantly the screwdriver was sent into his leg above his kneecap with a yelp.

Jungkook gripped the man's leg with his left arm, wrapping his right hand around the screwdriver inserted into him, twisting it as the man jolted under his hold, the man beside them silent in shock. Jungkook's expression shifted, eyes becoming darker than before as his lips flattened together, continuing to twist the screwdriver until the man was shrieking in pain.

"Care to keep causing issues?" he questioned as the man shook his head quickly, tears sliding down his face. Jungkook looked to his left as the other man watched the scene carefully, trying to reason with him before he began his own torment.

"Thanks," Jungkook said to the window of the large SUV outside of the meat shop, the window opened slightly as dark figures moved behind the tinted panels of glass.

"This came for you." spoke a dark voice from inside the vehicle, a stack of papers departing through the open window, he noticed his payment was put under the binder clip as he took it.

The car pulled off, leaving him to stare at the pages of words, his mouth forming a pout as he nodded his head, looking up as the car drove off.

Kim Taehyung.

Foot bouncing under the table, Taehyung sat nervously in the metal chair while staring down at the handcuffs chained to the table. Images flashed in his head from the night before, his pocket knife being pulled from his jeans, flipping it open as it was stabbed into another man. The blood seeping all over his hands as he moved the liquid around with his index and middle fingers, the metallic scent filling his nose. The man's shock and pleas for him to pull the knife out and escape. The police escorting him to the car.

A knock came from the door as a detective stepped in, an unreadable expression on his face as he pulled out the metal chair on the other side of the table and took a seat, hands clamped around a stack of papers that he moved to the side.

"Do you find pleasure in it?" he questioned, making contact with Taehyung's handcuffed wrist to catch his attention. "Answer me."

"Sometimes, if they really deserved it" he whispered, looking down at the handcuffs again to avoid eye contact.

"People like you make me sick." spat the detective. "The things you've done. The people you've killed. Doesn't that get under your skin, huh?"

"It just doesn't," claimed Taehyung, eyes blank as he looked back up at the detective.

"Good." nodded the detective, a confused look on the younger man's face as he tilted his head. "Then this will appease you."

Sliding the stack of papers around and toward Taehyung, both of their eyes scanned over the cover page.

"Fortune for the Well-Being?" Taehyung's voice couldn't hide the curiosity.

"You and six other men in the country have been chosen for this program. The charm, the brains, the aggression, the passion, the looks, the strength, and the disturbed. It's the perfect combination for complete and utter chaos."

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