#after I bared my fucking soul yesterday about how she treated me and how she currently treats my siblings and got met with OF COURSE

[teja-has-puppet-autism]

mmmm

[tomegnome]

🖤Monster Lover Book Recs🖤

Were you, like me, gaslit by booktok influencers into reading Ice Planet Barbarians? You may be entitled to financial compensation. Call 1-800-blue-peepee for more information. Not really BUT!!! Below is a list of passable monster fucker books I discovered after spite reading like 30 of these after being utterly disappointed by IPB and hellbent on find some that were at least OKAY. Better than Ice Planet Barbarians, at least

The genre being what it is, make sure to check on the content warnings linked on TheStoryGraph if there's anything specific you're worried about. Also there ARE some lgbtqa+ books on this list (you’re welcome).

🕸🕷️Ensnared by by Tiffany Roberts🕷️🕸 I read this so long ago, and I can barely remember it tbh. A big alien spider monster finds a human woman that has crashed landed onto his planet and is like: FUCK this mammoth spider queen hottie who wants me to be her king, I want this gangly little blonde thing I fished out of a dirty hole. Ok. Sure. Pros: This author is committed to the art of monster fucking. This is not just like a guy but furry. Or a guy but scales. This is a big ass spider fucking a lady. And that’s beautiful. Cons: You know that “born sexy yesterday” trope? Because of the communication/cultural differences it kind of felt like they were both each other’s sexy baby. I didn’t really care for the characters or plot tbh, I just persevered because I just had to see how those crazy kids made it work. I was like, “seriously what are the mechanics?” Turns out: webs!

🚀🐱Engineering Fate by Alexis B. Osborne🐱🚀 Sasha tumbles through a wormhole into a part of space uninhabited by humankind--and instead inhabited by sexy cat men (yay). This one starts with the “captured by aliens” trope à la Ice Planet Barbarians, but it’s not a weird, uncomfortable sex thing (yay). Pros: I loved how active the main character was compared to the protags of this genre. She murders soooo many people. I was cheering out loud. Kill those birdmen, girlboss. Cons: Did not really care about the ML or the smut at all. But if you are into breeder kink--or were one of those kids with a huge crush on Simba growing up--then you are in for a treat.  FYI, if you read this and like it, do not read the next in the series. It’s NOT good.

🦖🪐Heart's Prisoner by Olivia Riley🪐🦖Communication specialist studies dangerous--but totally hot--alien prisoner of war “Asset X”. Pros: campy action scenes which I always enjoy. A dinosaur wreaking havoc on a space station in my sex book? More likely than you think., but the ML was fun and sexy. No “soul mates” or “that’s the mother of my child” stuff as far as I can remember, which is always a plus. Cons: The FL has as much personality as an Austin’s sandwich cracker (fyi: that’s the worst kind of sandwich character). 

🐊🔮She Came From The Swamp by Darva Green🔮🐊 She was a girl, she was also a girl--but also a Ukrainian Swamp monster--Can I make it any more obvious? Let me tell you. It is already a challenge to find passable heterosexual monster smut. Sapphic monster smut? Oh my god. But this is cute and good! Pros: adorable leads, relatively simple story that focuses on what we’re all really here for. Cons: sometimes they did it while the swamp monster was in human form, and I was like. Why?

☢️💀Soul Eater by Lily Mayne💀☢️ Post-apocalyptic setting, but also there’s interdimensional portals that have appeared on all over Earth that aliens pour out of it. Aliens ranging from cute critters to blood thirsty monstrosities to shredded gay monster hotties. A supernatural monster dubbed “Soul Eater” slaughters a battlefield of men--leaving only a single soldier. What does the mysterious killer want with Danny? Pros: A bonkers plot with lots of action and violence? Check. A seemingly cold and scary love interest that is actually super soft and protective? Check. An author brave enough to actually write weird monster dick instead of just being like, “it’s big and blue!” Cons: having read a few books in this series the huge lack of meaningful female characters and non-white characters throughout is a bummer. 

[urwelcomeforthis]

Alex’s tattoo shows up the day after she punches Marcus Hinkle.

He had been picking on Kara in the hallway, dangling her math book above her head, taking advantage of his summer growth spurt.

Kara still doesn’t know what possessed Alex – Marcus Hinkle had been a thorn in her side since she had landed on Earth and started school a year ago, but whatever the reason, today was the day Alex couldn’t take anymore.

Eliza had been furious. Jeremiah had been (not so) silently proud.

Kara didn’t know what she had felt, really. Especially not when she asked Alex why, and the older girl had just shrugged and said “You’re my sister. It’s what we do.”

Up until this point being sisters meant fights in the hallway over the bathroom and ignoring each other at the dinner table.

Apparently, things were changing.

Kara is just waking up when she hears Alex’s hushed “What the hell?”

“What is it?” She asks, groggily sitting up and wiping at the sleep in her eyes.

Her sister is holding her forearm up, frantically scrubbing at a spot right in the middle, her eyes frantic.

“I don’t…. I don’t know! It’s like a tattoo but I didn’t get a tattoo! Fuck, Mom is going to kill me.” Alex sounds panicked as she continues scrubbing at the spot, and Kara feels her heartbeat speed up.

“You had a tattoo just appear on your skin?” Kara asks slowly, her mind suddenly far away on a planet that doesn’t exist anymore, in a culture she had been forced to leave behind.

Alex stops scrubbing and looks at Kara with a piercing gaze. “Yeah. It’s some funny symbol too, like the way you used to write before you learned English. Did you do this to me?”

Alex leaps off the bed and crosses the room in two quick strides, arm held out like an accusation.

Kara shrinks in on herself a little but nods. “I think so. I didn’t know it was possible here, but well, on Krypton when your soul mate reveals themselves, a tattoo linking you appears. I should have one too, somewhere, if you do.”

Alex stops dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. “Soul mates? But we’re sisters! That’s so gross!”

Jumping up from the bed, hands held up in surrender Kara hastens to explain further. “No! Not like that, I promise! Back home, people had different kinds of soul mates. Sometimes it was the romantic kind like you talk about here on Earth, but other times it could just be a compatible soul, someone who was meant to be a part of you.”

Alex still looks wary, if not relieved, as she tentatively holds out her arm. “So, what does this mean? What kind of soul mates are we?”

Stepping forward Kara delicately traces the symbols on Alex’s forearm. “It literally means “sister of the soul.” Je shesur. The symbol after it is unique, the way we would know we were linked. If this had happened on Krypton it would mean we were soul sisters. Not from the same parents but family just the same.”

Alex nods. “And here on Earth? What does it mean here?”

“The same thing. At least that’s what it means to me.” Kara refuses to meet Alex’s eyes, not sure she wants to see what waits for her there.

There’s a long minute of silence after Alex takes her arm back. The clearing of her throat brings Kara’s eyes up from their place on the ground.

“Where’s yours?” Alex asks, eyes burning with curiosity.

Kara shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not on my arms like yours is. It must be hidden. Can you look on my back?”

“Sure.” Alex nods. “Lift up your shirt.”

Kara turns and tugs her shirt up and over her head. It takes a moment, but she hears her sister gasp followed by the feel of fingertips against her left shoulder blade.

“It’s the same as mine.” Alex says reverently, and Kara closes her eyes against the emotion welling up there.

Who would have thought she would get to have this piece of home?

“So, I guess I’m stuck with you. For like, ever, huh?” Alex smiles once Kara has turned back around.

Kara grins back. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Alex shrugs. “Could be worse. But you have to tell Mom about this, because she’ll never believe me, and she is going to be pissed that I have a tattoo.”

“Sure, I can tell Mom.” Kara grins, a piece of her heart settling in place. She hasn’t felt at home on Earth, not really, but at this moment she feels like it isn’t all that bad.

--

The next person to get a tattoo is, interestingly enough, James.

It doesn’t come when they’re dating, or whatever it was that they were doing, no.

It comes after he has revealed himself to be Guardian, and he and Kara have the biggest fight of their friendship.

Kara wakes up the morning after tired, groggy, and more than a little cranky. Its as she’s stripping down to get in the shower that she notices it – the Kryptonese scrawled along the inside of her right bicep.

Throniv Shesur. Protector of the soul.

Kara heaves a deep, deep, sigh and grabs her phone.

She meets James at the DEO, both tentative around each other after the yelling match of the day before.

“So. I woke up with a tattoo. Kryptonese. Any idea what that’s about?” James looks smug, like he’s won some kind of battle with Kara and god, at that moment she wishes they were in the training room and she could just punch him.

“Yeah. I did too. It means “protector of the soul.” She crosses her arms against her chest, desperately trying to hold onto her anger from yesterday but the wide grin on James’ face is making it hard.

“I know. I asked Clark first thing since I figured you’re still pissed at me. He was a little surprised, but he translated it for me.”

“Where’s it at?” Kara asks, still pretending to be upset but truthfully it was hard given the glaring message from home telling her that James was meant to be Guardian. That they were meant to protect each other. Protect others together.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” James says with a waggle of his eyebrows and that’s what finally breaks Kara, a laugh ringing out across the room.

It wasn’t who she expected to have a tattoo, not in this way at least, but if it had to be anyone, she’s glad it’s James.

--

Mon-El doesn’t get a tattoo. Kara wishes she were more disappointed.

--

The last person to get a tattoo is someone Kara had desperately hoped both would and would not get a tattoo.

For a long time, she feared what that tattoo would be, if it were to happen. She feared having to explain it, having to explain herself.

She had checked with Clark a few times, when paranoia would get the better of her.

No, he always told her. Lex did not have a tattoo. They were enemies, yes, but it hadn’t been decided by destiny or fate. It just was.

That mollified Kara because she couldn’t stand it if she and Lena were to become Clark and Lex. She would fight against it, fight against fate to keep it from happening.

And then, well. It kind of happens anyways.

They aren’t enemies, not really. Lena just hates Kara and aims a few Kryptonite cannons at her and tries to mind control the entire planet, but really everyone is allowed a brief lapse of their sensibility, right?

And what matters is she came around, in the end.

It did take time, however, for them to build back to what they once had. It was different now, but in the way that things once broken and fixed usually are.

It was better, if anything.

They were back to shared lunches and dinners, quick breakfasts and coffee breaks. They were back to game nights as partners and movie nights as friends, and the occasional sleepovers as best friends.

Things were finally back to normal, so of course Kara had to go and absolutely, irrevocably, mess it up.

It was Alex’s fault, really.

If she hadn’t said anything, if she hadn’t asked Kara what was up between her and Lena lately, Kara probably never would have stopped to think about it.

She never would have stopped to think about the way her heart sped up when Lena entered a room, or the way her palms got sweaty when they hugged, or the way she just could not stop staring at Lena when she laughed at game nights.

But now she had thought of it and had come to the very scary conclusion that she was in love with her best friend.

Her best friend who didn’t have a tattoo.

She would, after all this time, have a tattoo, the tattoo, if they were meant to be together, right?

Kara mulls it over for weeks. It haunts her. She asks Lena about tattoos, and if she has any.

She learns that yes, in fact Lena does have tattoos and boy howdy one of them is on her lower back and it is seared into the back of her eyes now that she has seen it.

But she doesn’t have any kryptonian tattoos, which is really what Kara was aiming for.

Much like it was Alex’s fault that Kara even realized she was in love, it’s also Alex who reminds Kara of one important detail.

“Well I didn’t get my tattoo until after I punched what’s his face. Maybe you have to tell Lena how you feel and then she’ll get the tattoo.”

Kara feels dumb struck, right there on her own couch, because of course, Alex is right.

The tattoos always come after the person has already revealed themselves.

Then of course comes the true fear: what if she tells Lena and she still doesn’t get a tattoo?

That’s the question she’s mulling over the next night as she and Lena sit on her couch watching some documentary that had been put on Netflix.

Lena looks beautiful, face bare of makeup, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, glasses slipping down her nose.

She’s eating a piece of pizza, a rare treat after a long week of work, and Kara decides that it doesn’t matter if Lena doesn’t get a tattoo.

She’s hopelessly, desperately in love with the woman and she can’t let a tattoo that may or may not come dictate her life.

“I’m in love with you, you know.” Kara blurts out, like this isn’t a life changing moment, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. (It is.)

Lena chokes a little on the bite she was swallowing, her hand coming up to her chest as she sets down the slice.

“Excuse me?”

Kara laughs. She’s never felt more free than in this moment. “I’m in love with you. I just thought you should know.”

Lena looks at her, shock written all over her face. “Oh. I guess that’s good.”

“Just good?” Kara nudges Lena’s thigh with her knee.

Lena shakes her head. “I mean it’s more than good, considering I’m in love with you too.”

“Yeah?” Kara could float up to the moon, she thinks.

Lena smiles, nose crinkled. “Yeah.”

It’s the next morning that Lena calls and asks if Kara can stop by. She has this tattoo she didn’t have yesterday, right on her ribcage, and it looks like it’s Kryptonian.

Kara frantically searches her own body, finding the script on her hip, on the left side.

Zhao Shesur. Love of the soul.

It took them five years to get to this point, but Kara knows, this moment was more than worth the wait.

[staarkindustries]

Undercover

You and Steve need to go undercover for a mission, what will happen after you make him see your vulnerable part?

Warnings: fluff, mention of shooting and fighting.

Words: 1559

(Gif not mine)

"Alright guys, it's an undercover mission. I was thinking about Capsicle and L/N." Y/N nodded. Undercover missions were her favorite: five stars hotel payed by Tony, new clothes, idiots who tought would be easy to take her to bed and that she could kill with a tea spoon. "Sure, what is it?" The girl asked, looking at Steve and then back at Tony. "You will pretend to be a newly married couple. It's a ball. Clothes, hotel are payed and the jet is on the roof." The girl snickered and looked at Steve. "He really wants us to leave, get your things Cap, I'll meet you on the roof." And she went away, going to her room.

"Friday, set automatic driving." "Coordinates set." "Thanks Friday." Steve sighed and sat down on the bench. "You okay, Steve?" "I hate flying." "I know, it'll be okay. It's just a couple of hours." The soldier nodded, closing his eyes. "Wanna play a game?" Y/N asked, trying to distract him. "You're such a kid... What is it?" "Oh I am the kid, Rogers?" "Sit down, and don't use that tone of voice with me, Miss." He joked and smiled while his eyes were still closed. Y/N sat next to him and smiled too. "What are you going to do? Put me in detention?" "I hate you." "You clearly don't."

"What a wonderful hotel, darling!" The girl said, with a slightly pitched voice, laughing at the annoyed face Steve did. "Y/N..." "Oh, I love you so much!" "Come on, L/N, let's go." He sighed and leaned against the counter. "Hi, we booked under Smith." "Sure, room 214." One. One room. "I'll kill Stark." "I'll gladly help you." She giggled as Steve opened the door. "So Rogers, what are you going to do?" "We have two days before the ball." "Uh, I want ice cream." She said sitting on the bed. "Then why are you sitting down? Come on, let's go." He took her wrist, starting to walk towards the door. "Steve!" "Hey, you have to call me Jonathan." "Okay, Jonathan." She laughed and followed him.

"Steve." Steve got up on her elbows, and looked into her eyes. "Can't sleep? Do you want me to go on the sofa?" He asked quickly, thinking that maybe she was uncomfortable with him sleeping in the same bed as hers. "No, no, don't worry." "So what's going on?" "I heard a noise." "What was it like?" He heard a shot. "Like this, Rogers." He tried to get up, but she held him back. "No, please don't go out." "Y/N..." "Please." She took his hand. "Come here, come here." He hugged her as she shivered. Another shot was heard in the air. "Steve." "It's okay, it's okay." She settled into the Captain's arms, trying to ignore the shots. "Sweetheart, I need to see what's going on." "N-no, you don't have to Steve. Please." "Y/N." "God I feel so stupid, go." She released him and curled up on the bed, while Steve looked at her with sweet eyes. "I'll be right back, I promise you." He hurried out of the room and ran downstairs. He noticed that the hotel was quiet, there was not a living soul and it looked whole. "Jonathan." The girl whispered, still on the stairs, using his fake name so they wouldn't risk blowing the cover. "What are you doing here?" Steve asked, scared that she could get hurt. "Did you really think I would let you go out alone?!" "Let's go back to the room, there is nothing."

"Steve, can I ..." She didn't complete the sentence, because Steve pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "Sleep Y/N, I'm here." The girl hugged him and sighed. "Thank you, Stevie."

"Wow." Steve said as Y/N came out of the bathroom. She smiled and sat down to put on her heels. "Thanks Steve." "Can you help me with the tie?" "Sure, but I can only tie one type of knot." "Are there more ways to fix a tie?" "Oh my God, Rogers." She laughed and began to tie it. "Thanks sweetheart." "No problem, darling." She smiled at him, then took the gun and put it in the bag. "Are you sure we need it?" "You have shield magnets under your jacket, did you think I wouldn't notice?" "Hit and sunk." He said making the girl laugh, then offered her his arm. "Shall we, Penny?" "We shall, Jonathan." She smiled and leaned against him. "I already hate these heels." "You could not have worn them." "Yes sure, I could have put on sneakers!"

"Name please." "Smith." "Come in." "That was easy." "Stark must have done something." "Yes, like always." He smiled at her. "Come on Jonathan, let's dance." She took his hand and led him towards the center of the room. "I'm happy to be here with you, you know? I mean... If it had been Tony it would have been weird, that's it."

"Well, I'm happy to heart that, Penny." He smiled and walked over to her. " "I think I see him, Jonathan." "Okay, turn around, I want to see him." The girl nodded, then she got closer to him, to speak in his ear. "Twelve o'clock, gray suit." Steve looked where Y/N said to him and sighed. "Any ideas?" He asked. "Shall we take him somewhere and shoot him in the head?" She asked innocently, Steve chuckled. "The first part is doable, but Stark said to keep him alive." "Okay, I can try to flirt with him. Go out, I'll take him there." "With what excuse?" "You surely are not from this era." She kissed his cheek, then walked over to the man. Steve looked at her for a few seconds, before stepping out of the building.

"Since I do not want you to hold a grudge, I'm not someone that likes arms dealers." Y/N said, before kicking him in the balls and then in the head. "Don't worry Rogers, he is just passed out." "Yeah, sure. Let's get out of here."

"Hey." Steve greeted the girl, entering her room. "You need something, Steve? I'm almost done with the report, I swear." The soldier grinned, then shook his head. "No, I'm not here for the report, Y/N." She sat on the bed and patted on the spot next to him. "What is it, then?" Y/N asked. "I just wanted to know if you were okay. You know, after that night..." "Did I make you uncomfortable? I know that I, being an Avenger, shouldn't be scared of guns but... I don't know it's just the loud noise and I was scared you could get hurt and..." "Hey, it's okay sweetheart. Everyone is afraid of something, you don't need to be ashamed of it. I'm afraid of flying and I'm a super soldier, what should I say?" "You have every reason to be afraid of that." "So do you." He said, looking at her. He always found her beautiful, with the expressions she made when something annoyed her, or when Tony did one of his jokes. But mostly he loved the face she did when she smiled. He knew she could make his day only by smiling at his words.

Steve sighed and put his hand on the girl's cheek, stroking her cheekbone. "You are an amazing person, and you shouldn't be scared to let the people who love you see what makes you human. Fear makes us humans, Y/N, you need to undestand that." "I... I don't know how to let people in. I'm an Avenger, for God sake, people should fear me, not the other way around." "I like this side of you. Not that I don't like the others, you are beautiful, and funny, and cocky and... And I sound like an idiot." The girl chuckled. "No please, go on, you really were blasting my ego." Steve pushed her playfully and rolled his eyes when she tried to do the same. "It's not fair, I'm not as strong as you. Don't roll your eyes at me, Rogers." "Or what? Are you going to put me in detention?" "You are quoting me, find your own quotes, be original." "I hate you." "Again? You don't." Steve sighed, looking at his shoes. "Yeah, no, no I don't." The girl smiled. "Are you gonna kiss me now or what Rogers? I tought that your mother taught you how to treat a girl." Steve blushed and his eyes widened. "What? Not used to girls being open about what..." He had enough. He knew that she was just messing with him, but at least he had a good excuse to kiss her. "Finally." "You drive me crazy, L/N." "Glad to hear that." She kissed him again, this time with more desire. Steve groaned when she pulled at his hair, bringing him down on her bed. "I have been waiting for this, Rogers."

"They did it! They kissed guys!" Tony yelled, and Y/N jumped from the bed. "Say hi to the mini camera I bought yesterday." "That's fucking stalking, Stark." She said when she saw the red light that was pulsing on her desk. She took it and she threw it to Steve, that smashed it with his bare hands. "So, where were we?"

[ahsokasleftbicep]

Name and Soul: Chapter 5

Here we go!! Let's see what Crosshair does ;)

@mqgriett @darkangel4121 @thelambandthewolffe @maulscrosshair @trash-dino-5000 @lightning-wolffe @killtherandomness @shadowwing12345 @sydnubabu @lafy-taffy

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 2668

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 5, Tarkin being a dick, Rampart being ughhhh, Conflicted Crosshair, internal conflict, slavery, Cid being an awesome character, injury, angst, a few curse words to get the mood across

“Y/N, what’s your position? Over.”

“Right behind you kid. Over” You chuckle when the girl jumps a little bit.

Echo clears his throat, “Omega, remember it’s not a toy.”

Omega just nods and keeps fiddling around with her new comm. Crosshair’s

“Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” Echo continues, nodding his head to the back of the ship.

“Yeah of course.” You both walk to the back and you lean against a crate, patting Gonky on the head when he walks by. Echo stands rather awkwardly, looking up at you before back to the ground.

“I’m not sure how to start… I know that you miss Crosshair.” Echo looks up again before speaking. “And I know these past few weeks have been hard. But we will get him back together. As a group. You don’t have to do it alone.

“You heard Hunter and I the other day then.” You sigh and shift uncomfortably, “I know we can get him back, and that doing that is a little more… difficult with Omega around, especially now that someone is after her. But the longer we leave him there… who knows what Tarkin has already made him do.”

“I trust you Y/N, we all do.” Echo walks up and rests his hand on your shoulder. “But if you go through with this, there is no guarantee that we can get to you both in time if things go south.”

“I understand Echo.” You look up, “Thank you.”

The man nods before walking towards the cockpit. “Come on, I gotta let the guys know about that informant.”

--

Crosshair awoke with a gasp, sweat covering his head and chest. The lights in the barracks flickered erratically, but it was enough for him to see that everyone else was asleep. He sat up and the cool air pricked his bare skin. He looked around again before grabbing his rifle. He grabbed a top shirt and the necklace, clipping it around his neck before walking out into the hall, making his way to the firing range.

He kept thinking about his nightmare if that’s what you’d call it. It wasn’t scary or disturbing, just… weird. He was sitting on his bunk, back at the Marauder. He saw a bunch of his things, trinkets, and belongings. But he also saw things that weren’t his. He looked to his side table and saw small pieces of jewelry, smaller rifle parts, and a rag. He also saw a picture strip propped on the table. One of himself and… her? It was fairly small and had a small rip on the top. In one picture, he had his arm wrapped around you and you were smiling. Weird. The next was similar, but this time, he was smiling a little too. Then, you both looked like you were laughing. And the last one is what shocked Crosshair the most. You were kissing him. Like on the lips. What the-? He sees you sitting on his bed with the girl… Omega. You’re talking about something, but he can’t hear you too well. It’s muffled and the sound echoes.

“Y/n…?” His voice sounds too loud. Why is it so loud? “Y/n?”

You look up, directly at him, but then you turn back to the girl. Didn’t you see him?

Why didn’t you see him?

--

“Well, this is a charming establishment.” You cross your arms as you walk into the bar on Ord Mantell. “Reminds me of 79’s”

“Indeed” Tech walks beside you, grimacing at the conditions.

“What’s 79’s?” Omega looks at you and Tech curiously.

“It’s a clone bar on Coruscant, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not there anymore though.” Tech pushes his goggles up to his nose.

You all walk into the main part of the bar. “So Echo, which one of them is Cid?” You glance at a couple of aliens arguing in the back, a Weequay and an Ithorian. None of them gave you the impression of being an informant.

“I couldn’t tell ya. I’ve only heard of him, never actually met him.” Echo looked back at you.

“That’s reassuring, Echo.”

Hunter walks towards a Trandoshan in the back, asking a few questions but getting nowhere.

“So unless you’re here to spend money, get lost.” The Trandoshan speaks, looking clearly annoyed. Hunter walks back and you all circle up.

“Great plan, Echo.” Wrecker groans

“I’m positive this is Cid’s. The Jedi came here during the war.”

You clear your throat before adding on, “Maybe he heard what happened to the Jedi and fled.”

While you all are talking, you don’t notice Omega walking up to the Trandoshan. You guys are struggling to come up with a plan.

“So, we came all this way for nothing?” There was a pause before your comm goes off.

“I found Cid.” You all turn towards Omega, who then points up to the Trandoshan at the bar.

You walk over to the Omega and nod at Cid politely, “Good job kid. You’re getting pretty good at this.”

--

“I could do my job if you did your research, Rampart.” Crosshair glances at the man, who simply glares back.

“How dare you? I’ve been-”

“Gentlemen! Enough of this nonsense.” Tarkin pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did you find?”

Rampart glares at the sniper for a moment before turning his attention back to Tarkin. “I have continued my research on Private L/N, sir. After she became a marksman, she joined the militia on her home planet. Over time, she was given the nickname the Ghost.”

“Why is this of use to us, Rampart?” Tarkin looks at the man, slowly losing his patience.

“Many other rebel militias hired her, therefore she is well known on other planets through her nickname. I was looking through the general gossip, when I found a report from Ord Mantell, saying that the Ghost had arrived early yesterday morning. Now it could be a mistake, but this is the closest thing to a lead that has been found.”

Crosshair looks down at the floor, thinking. What is he up to? He wants something more with this lady than what Tarkin has said.

“Very well. Because of the uncertainty that this is truly Private L/N, CT-9904, you will go to Ord Mantell alone and see if it is true. If you do find her, restrain and bring her back. If not, return to Kamino as soon as possible… and if she gives you trouble, dispose of her.”

Dispose of? No! Don’t kill her! Don’t listen to him! Would you just shut up?

“Of course, sir. I’ll leave right away.” Crosshair throws his toothpick to the ground and walks into the hall. I can go to Ord Mantell. If I see her, I could always lie.

--

“Wrecker, you doing okay?” You rest your hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing. I’m alright.” The man rubs his head again.

“According to Cid’s intel, the Zygerrian slave traders are hiding in the ruins of Old Ord Mantell city.” Tech walks into the cockpit along with Echo and Omega

“What’s a slave trader?” Omega spins around in her seat.

“Someone who buys and sells people for credits.”

“People can be sold?” Omega looks up in confusion.

“They don’t have a choice. They’re captives treated like property.” Echo crosses his arms glaring at the ground.

“That… doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s not. But wealthy Zygerrians don’t care.” You kneel in front of her. “Before the war, their empire was very powerful and not a lot of people had enough to fight against them. I was called by a local militia in Zygerria after I graduated from the Academy, we went to Zygerria to free a village of missing twi-leks. Some of my team got caught…” You look at the boys. “They were vicious in their punishment of the militia members, especially the Queen.” You suppress a shiver from your spine at the memory.

“We are going to stop this from happening to that kid.” Echo speaks up and squeezes your shoulder.

“Don’t worry Y/N. We’ll save Muchi, no matter what!” Omega smiles.

--

This could be going better. You try to adjust your hands in the binders, but it just tightens on your wrists.

You all had gotten captured, now in the remnants of the city square tied up with other people. Wrecker tries to break the binders but gets shocked.

“You do that one more time and you’ll be…” Echo glares at the man

The soldier shocks him and you run to his side, “Save your energy, Echo. We’ll need it.” You look around before catching on to a large building, seeing a higher-ranking Zygerrian at the top.

“We need to signal Omega before their scouts find her.” Hunter says, looking at all of us.

You keep looking around, and you see… Omega walking towards a fallen column.

“We won’t need a comm to signal her,” Tech speaks up and you point Hunter in her direction.

Before anything can happen, the door of the large building opens. The higher Zygerrian walks out, looking over you all with interest. He stops on you before speaking.

“Look at what we have here,” He chuckles, “Five new slaves to add to my collection.” He approaches you and grabs your face. He smirks and leans closer. “You will be a very nice plaything.”

You narrow your eyes before spitting in his face. “Go fuck yourself.” The man growls and slaps you.

“Y/N!” Hunter calls out and tries to reach you, but a blaster is pointed in his face.”

“We can do with one less slave and loyalty can be taught.” The man grabs you by your hair, “Through violence if necessary.”

You smirk at him for a moment. “I’d love to see you try, prick.”

“Let me go!” You all turn your head towards a guard, who’s holding Omega.

“I found her sneaking around the cage.”

The girl struggles, “I wasn’t sneaking. I was unlocking.”

The cage bursts open despite the guard's best efforts, revealing a young rancor. Great.

“Let’s get out of here.” Hunter helps you free yourself and you run towards your gear.

As you all run along with the other former slaves, Tech is conversing with them.

One of them points to the rancor, “Muchi! Muchi!”

“Muchi?” You look at the rancor and your eyes widen. “The rancor is Muchi?!”

Hunter sighs, “We have to go after Muchi, if we don’t, we don’t get intel from Cid. Y/N, you’re with me.”

“Got it, let’s go.”

Tech and Wrecker separate from you two to go after Muchi, while you and Hunter go after the leader.

“You’re going to pay for this, skugs!” The man moved his whip, the cracking echoing through the air.

The man raises his whip and aims at Hunter.

“Hunter! Watch out!” The whip catches on Hunter’s arm, groaning in pain from the electricity.

You run and tackle the leader to the ground. He gets up and gets his whip around your neck, activating the electric pulse. You scream out and use the slack of the whip to drag yourself closer. “Like I said, loyalty through violence.” The man sneers at you and rips your helmet off your head.

Your voice comes out hoarse and scratchy, “You should’ve kept an eye behind you.”

“Huh?”

Hunter headbutts and kicks the man back.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He unwraps the whip from your neck and looks over the mark left behind.

You cough a little bit and nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You place your helmet on. “Let’s go get Muchi and get the hell out of here.”

The sergeant chuckles, “I couldn’t agree more.”

--

You wince when Cid pokes your neck with a stim. “Ow! Are you trying to hurt me more?”

“Oh calm down, you're fine. I thought the Ghost herself could handle more than a needle.”

“The Ghost? Who’s that?” Omega looks up at you and Cid. The boys look at you, curious.

You sigh and Cid keeps fixing up your injury.

“After the academy and over time, working with militias and going on solo assassin missions, people started calling me the Ghost. I haven’t heard anyone call me that in a while. And I didn’t expect that my name would make it all the way out here… How’d you know?”

“Your demeanor, how you react, and a bit of lucky guessing.” Cid finishes bandaging up your neck.

“Thanks.” You hop off the bar and move your head gingerly. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Can I come?” Omega hops up to you.

“Kid, I actually need some help with something.” Cid nods at you.

“Oh! Okay! Bye Y/N! Be careful!”

“Will do, Omega!”

You walk to the door before Hunter stops you. “Y/N, you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

“I’ll be okay, I have my comm if I run into any trouble. How’s your arm?” You gesture towards it.

“It’s okay, I’ll live.”

You chuckle, “That’s good, but maybe have Cid look at it.”

“Noted.”

You wave before you walk out into the alleys of the city.

--

Crosshair weaved behind alleys. He was bare of his typical armor, now donning dark civvie clothes. He has a cloth covering his face, only showing his eyes. His rifle is nowhere to be found, only having a knife strapped to his thigh. His necklace feels cold against his skin, but the rest of his body is on fire. Why am I nervous? She’s just another soldier.

There!

He sees you out in the streets, walking by the market stands that are scattered through the streets. You don’t look armed, so that makes things easier. He keeps his distance, only moving closer as you move towards the denser part of the marketplace. Just grab her and get the job done. No, just ask questions. Don’t show your face.

--

Something felt off for the last hour of walking around the markets and vendors. Someone was following you, but they weren’t necessarily dangerous. You could be completely wrong though, you hadn’t actually seen your stalker yet.

I should’ve brought my knife, dammit.

You weave through people for a few blocks and stop in the middle of the street. Behind you. You turn and see him.

He’s paused in the street as well, about 30 feet away. He’s in dark clothing, a cloth covering most of his face. Except for his eyes. His eyes. Crosshair.

His eyes are hardened, but they’re his. You make out the faint black lines of a tattoo around his right eye. The man straightens his gaze onto you, then to your bandage, and finally to your necklace. He reaches under his shirt collar and pulls out a silver chain.

You look back up at him and grab your necklace. A person interrupts your line of sight and when you focus again, he’s gone.

--

Crosshair runs through alleys back to his ship. He’s breathing hard and mumbling to himself.

“She’s okay, she’s okay.” It comes out rushed and panting. He runs up the ramp of his ship, tearing off his mask and getting the ship running. As soon as the ship is in space, he sits in the pilot's seat and grabs his head. His ears are ringing and it feels like his head is going to explode. What the hell was that? Why didn’t I ask her? I ran, why the fuck did I run? She’s okay. She recognized me. Y/N’s safe. It hurts. Why does it hurt so much? Dammit, STOP!

“CT-9904. What did you find on Ord Mantell?” Tarkin’s hologram flickered slightly.

“I… wasn’t able to find any sign of Private L/N. It looks to be local gossip and conspiracy.”

The Admiral nods, “Well that is unfortunate. I assume you are returning immediately.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be back on Kamino shortly.”

“Very well. Good work, CT-9904.” The hologram shut off.

Crosshair sighed in relief, slumping into his seat. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry.

[saladejin]

Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’ 

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me) 

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :) 

<< masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories. 

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.  

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.” 

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed. 

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

  ~ three months later ~

 “That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.  

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

~

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

~

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

~

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

��I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

~

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

~

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?  

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

 ~

~

 Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home. 

.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

TO BE CONTINUED

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[captainenjolras]

Prompt:

Chabouillet getting really protective of Javert when he and Valjean started dating. Like maybe interrogating Valjean and such

Also love your fics they're so darn cute

Aww, thank you! I’ve been waiting to write something involving Javert and Chabouillet’s relationship!

Valjean meeting Chabouillet would either go down great or like the dinner scene from Shrek 2

⚠️TW: mentions of abuse, drunkness and suic*de⚠️

Fight Fire With Fire

It’s not that he wasn’t happy for him, he was just…less than thrilled.

Chabouillet had known Javert for years; since the boy was fifteen. He had found him running in the streets. Since that day, he’d taken him under his wing; he was the one who had given him shelter from a less than terrible home life, the one who had suggested making him a guard at the age of 17, the one who always looked out for him no matter where he was stationed.

He was also the one who had to listen to the boy’s rants about Madeline.

Never had he seen Javert so…distracted. So ditzy. Usually, he was a stern and hard working man; but upon being in Madeline’s presence, he was an absolute dork. He was the one who watched as the young Inspector fumbled over files hours after the interactions; and after the truth was revealed about the Mayor, he was the one who allowed a very drunk, upset and tearful Javert sleep in his spare room.

Maybe that’s why he was so tense about this situation; the whole Madeline incident had felt like a punch to the gut for Javert. Sure, Chabouillet was disappointed as well, but what made him more conflicted was the younger’s emotional distress over the whole thing.

But the past was in the past, and all that mattered was the present. Right?

“Le patron!”

“Javert, mon garçon!”

The Inspector came bounding at Chabouillet, wrapping him in a tight hug. Well! This was new! Once they broke apart, the Chief laid his eyes upon the other man. Valjean.

The man had a shy smile on his face as the oldest of the three surveyed him. He was quite tall, very muscular, had a head of curly hair and neat facial hair, was dressed quite well…

“Hello, Monsieur Chabouillet,” greeted Valjean, hand extended as if to shake the oldest’s own. Chabouillet simply nodded instead.

“Monsieur Valjean.”

The eye contact they held was less than comfortable for both parties, although Javert didn’t seem to notice. He stood in between them both, teeth bared in a wide smile. The height and size difference of the couple was as if a cat had just dragged home a bear.

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence for the older two, Chabouillet eventually spoke up.

“Well, come inside!”

Valjean followed gingerly behind Javert, who entered the house as if it was his own. Jean remembered that in a way, it was. The man had practically adopted the Inspector. Did that mean this was their equivalent to “meeting the parents?”

That was exactly what this was going to be, wasn’t it?

“Make yourselves at home,” spoke Chabouillet, acknowledging the coat rack by the door.

——————————————————————————

The entire night, Chabouillet studied Javert and Valjean’s interactions. The two acted like lovesick teenagers, although he did notice Valjean eyeing him mistrustfully. He returned the favor. At one point, Jean had wrapped his arm around Javert’s waist. That was Chabouillet’s breaking point.

“Javert,” he interrupted, “I’m very sorry to ask you this right now, but there’s a case file upstairs that I forgot to give to you yesterday! Would you mind just going over it?”

For once, Javert seemed annoyed at having to work. What on earth? However, he agreed and went up to the study room. Once he was a good distance away, Chabouillet turned to Valjean. He looked him up and down, lips pressed in a thin line.

“Nice to finally me-“

“Talk to me, Jean.”

Chabouillet beckoned Valjean to follow him to the dining room. Once they were seated, he spoke again.

“What are your intentions?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are your…intentions…with Javert?”

Oh, he could tell so much jokes right now.

He chose not to.

“If I have the correct understanding, then my intentions are to make him happy.”

Once again, Chabouillet stared deep into his soul. Well, this was terrifying.

“What do you do for a living, Jean?”

“W-well my good friend owns a shop that I co-own.”

“…How often do you see Javert?”

“We live together, Monsieur.”

“Well what do you two do on your spare time?”

“All sorts of things; we go on walks, read together, garden, watch TV- stuff we did before we were together! We just…do it together now.”

“And what about dates?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Where do you take him on dates?”

“I mean, usually we prefer to stay home; but otherwise we go out for dinner or stargazing- we actually went to this planetarium last week with a huge star dome-“

“Do you listen to him?”

“…I’m not sure I quite understand that-“

“Do you listen to him; does he talk to you? About work? Problems? Feelings?”

“Oh! Yes, actually!”

“Yes to what?”

“Er, all of the above?”

Valjean laughed nervously, face redder than the table cloth he tapped at anxiously.

“…Back to my original question,” grumbled Chabouillet, sitting up straighter than he already was, “what are your intentions with Javert?”

“I-I thought I answered that-“

“Not in the way I wanted you to. What are your plans for the future involving your…relationship; is this some sort of fling? Just casual dating? Serious? What, what is it?”

“I mean, I’d say it’s pretty serious.”

“You’d say it’s pretty serious…do you plan on marrying him?”

At that, Valjean began to choke on nothing. His eyes went wide and jaw dropped.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Do you plan on marrying him, boy.”

“…I don’t know how you want me to answer that-“

“The way you would if anyone else asked!”

“Yes!”

The moment he said those words, Jean slammed his hand over his mouth. Both men peaked out of the room, hoping that Javert wasn’t anywhere near. Thankfully, he wasn’t.

“Yes,” whispered Jean, eyes refusing to meet the Chiefs, “I…I do plan on marrying him…if he wants to, that is.”

“What is that supposed to mean? You’ve never spoken about marriage?!”

“No, no we have- it’s just- we’ll I haven’t quite asked him yet. You know…asked him.”

Oh? Oh. Oooh, ok. He understood now.

Well now he had more of a right to threaten him over screwing this up.

“…I don’t know you, Jean. How am I supposed to know that you’re the right match for Javert?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean- I just met the real you, not Madeline. Do you have any clue how much that whole stunt upset Javert? He loved you. Not just- not admiration love, he loved you; and then you go and pull that- god, I was so mad! If I could’ve gone out and found you myself I would have- and don’t think I won’t do the same now if you ever hurt him!”

“I don’t know how much clearer I could have made it,” started the younger, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “but I don’t plan on hurting him or letting anyone hurt else hurt him. I…understand you’re skeptic of me, but please…he means the world to me.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying to me? Was it you that saved him from his abusive household? Was it you who took him in, put a roof over his head and clothes on his back? Was it me or you who made him hysterical sob after lying about who they really were?”

“Was it you or me who risked their freedom to make sure he was safe,” growled Valjean, standing now. “Is it your shoulder or my shoulder that he cries into every time he’s had enough? Was it you that sobbed for days because maybe, just maybe, you loved him back to; but you could never tell him! Was it you or me that pulled him out of the damn Seine in the middle of the fucking night-“

“Enough!”

Chabouillet slammed his palm to the table. Valjean, who had just been fuming, was now sitting down again, fear in his eyes.

“Enough, please…I can’t- don’t bring that up.”

The older of the two quietly sunk back down to his seat, mind racing. Perhaps they both went to far.

“…How does he like his coffee?”

Oh…that’s not what Valjean was expecting.

“…With so much sugar it’s a little scary.”

At that, both of them couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Once it died down, Chabouillet looked over at him.

“When he found out you were in the city, he wasn’t very happy. I’ll admit, I thought he was overreacting a bit. Then…after the protests…I don’t know, something seemed to change. When I heard it was you that saved him, I nearly didn’t believe it.”

A tear had fallen down his cheek, but the Chief didn’t seem to care.

“…Thank you,” he started again, “for saving him. He’s…like a son to me.”

“…I can tell from the way you care about him…Please, Monsieur, I apologize if my behavior was a bit rash; my only intentions with Javert are to make him happy. I hope you’d let me.”

Chabouillet went to open his mouth, but just as he did, Javert strutted into the room.

“One of your leads has been dead for years, Le patron. Are you sure she was the person in suspect?”

He really had no clue of the entire conversation that just went down.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the night went smoothly; the three of them swapped stories and debates over dinner. Around 9:00, Javert suggested they should head home.

As they were leaving, Chabouillet pulled Valjean aside.

“Monsieur,” started the younger, “I’d like to thank you-“

“It’s- it’s quite alright…You have my permission. And…my blessing.”

It took a moment for Jean to register what he was saying, but once it did, he wrapped the man in a tight embrace.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you- I shouldn’t be hugging you, should I?”

He pulled away, the same anxious smile on his face that was there moments ago.

“It’s…alright. Maybe not- I’d prefer to see how things play out in the future.”

“Understandable.”

“Valjean?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for making him happy…truly happy.”

“…Thank you for making him the man he is today.”

For once, they both shared a less than awkward smile.

“Treat him well.”

“I will.”

Valjean turned to leave, only for Chabouillet to turn him around once again.

“Just know, that if you ever, and I mean EVER, hurt him, I won’t hesitate to find you and make your life a living nightmare.”

“…There’s the Chabouillet I know. Don’t worry, that won’t be necessary.”

“It’s a warning.”

“That won’t need to be enforced.”

“Valjean-“

“I know, I know; you’re just making sure I understand. I do, believe me. I have absolutely no plan on hurting him, or letting anything hurt him for that matter.”

“…Good man. Go, he’s probably wondering where you are.”

“Probably- thank you for dinner, Monsieur.”

“Anytime. Farewell, Valjean.”

“Farewell, Monsieur.”

Chabouillet watched as Jean made his way to the car, kissing Javert on the cheek once he was inside. He made sure they drove off safely before closing the door and turning in for the night.

——————————————————————————

It was good to know that the Chief didn’t think him unfit for Javert, although that was the last thought he had at the moment. Looking down, Valjean couldn’t help but smile at the sleeping man he held in his arms. Javert wore one of Jean’s own t-shirts, and had his cheek smudged against the older’s chest. God, he was beautiful.

Jean glanced over at the ring he held in the hand that wasn’t cradling Javert’s back. Soon, he hoped.

Soon.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Texas relief, @wincest-endgame donated $25, and requested Sam & the amulet through the years. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

(read on AO3)

Dean pushes Sam into the bathroom, after what feels like a day of questioning and caution and Dean being withholding—he's so bad at it, Sam doesn't know why he even tries—and Bobby avoiding Sam's eyes—and Sam'll figure that out, eventually—but it's really only four in the afternoon, and he's got food in his belly for the first time in what feels like a week but he's assured is a year, and he's had a beer and a cup of coffee and Dean's squeezed his arm, on his bicep just above the bend of his elbow, and looked into his eyes for a full heart-rich moment when Bobby was on the phone in the kitchen and couldn't see—and they didn't do anything, of course they didn't, not in Bobby's house, but Sam closed the door behind himself with that look thick in his head, the knowing that Dean was safe and okay and that Lucifer didn't hurt him—that everyone was okay, that what he'd done by jumping into the cage had worked when he hadn't been sure, not at all, that it would—and he still doesn't really know how he got out but he'll get that out of Dean eventually—and he turns on the shower and smiles at the rickety jump of the hot water because, holy shit, he's alive to suffer Bobby's godawful shower—and he pulls the shirt off over his head, and unbuttons his jeans, and fishes in his pocket for his phone and his wallet like he always does—and finds a new phone that he doesn't recognize, which makes him frown, a wallet that he does, and—the amulet.

The air goes out of him. The shower's guttering down, getting warm at last. He hears Dean's voice through the door, saying something to Bobby although Sam doesn't know what. Sam twines the leather cord around his fingers and crushes the little metal head in his palm, standing there in his socks and boxers. He didn't lose it. Somehow he—hadn't thought about it, until now, but now that he has he just—assumed it'd be gone. He's not in the same clothes he was wearing before he fell, so—did Dean—? He doesn't know and in this second doesn't care. He brings his closed fist up to his mouth, the cord thin and worn against his lips. He breathes in, slow.

The last time he held it in his hand was—Detroit. Milkjugs of blood sitting in the trunk. Dean—somewhere, talking to Cas maybe, and Sam alone, and Sam was alone a lot then. It feels like yesterday. He'd felt distant somehow. Even if Dean had forgiven him, or at least had been willing to try to forgive him. Ever since the second he'd made the decision to say yes, and decided to make Dean agree, it was like he'd been one step outside his life, looking in. Watching Dean try to accept it and knowing Dean never would. Watching Dean, with his hands in his pockets, and his hand curled so hard around the amulet that the horned edge had actually cut into his palm and he'd bled, inside his jeans. Not minding that and squeezing it tighter. Reminding himself why what he was doing mattered so he wouldn't falter. He wasn't going to falter.

Lucifer had healed that little wound without even acknowledging it. Sam remembers that if nothing else. He opens his hand and he's made sore white marks where the edges of the demon-head have cut into his palm. The shower hisses, next to him, and there's a thump of the side of a fist against the door—"Hey, princess, don't take forever on the primping," Dean says, muffled, the idiot—christ, Sam loves him.

He looks up at the door, startled. Creak of floorboards outside, like Dean's just standing there. Sam blinks at the peeled paint, and calls back, "Dude, it's my first shower in a year, hold your horses," and Dean says, "Yeah, yeah," and Sam closes his hand around the amulet again, his chest—thick. He can't take a full breath. He stoops, and loops the amulet cord around itself three times, four, and tucks it back down into the deepest corner of the pocket of his jeans. He crouches there for a second, feeling—feeling. The steam in the air curls against his skin. He has to stand up. Take the shower, get into fresh clothes, get back out into the house, figure things out. Figure where the world is, after a year without him in it. He crouches there, instead, taking in air. There's a little spot on his jeans, he realizes. Worn, nearly white, where something's made a space for itself. You wouldn't notice the difference, if you saw it every day, but with a jump of time between the last time he wore these jeans and now—it's obvious.

*

Of course it was longer than a year. Of course there were things Dean didn't tell him. Soulless, Sam thinks, trying the word out by himself, when Castiel's left and Sam's waiting for Dean to get back with the sword. Soulless. Not—a good thing to be. He's pretty sure.

Things that are described as soulless: corporations, governments. His comparative philosophy professor in junior year. Soulless due to lack of consideration, due to lacking character, due to—what? Indifference. Cruelty.

When they got to Portland, Dean picked the motel by turning into a random parking lot off the highway, and Sam hauled most of their bags in because he could tell Dean was tired after all the driving, and he'd barely made it through blinking at the one king bed before the door slammed behind Dean and Dean hauled him around by the jacket and gripped his shirt and said low and fervent, Sammy, if you don't want to you're gonna have to knock me out, and Sam dropped the bags right there in the entrance and got his hand on Dean's face and dragged his thumb soft over Dean's pretty lower lip and felt how Dean tensed, and then how the tension spilled out of him like water.

He doesn't get it. He walked around, he was told, without a soul, for a year. More than a year. Castiel was very precise about it. He'd left Dean with Lisa and found his grandfather, instead—his grandfather!—and he'd hunted. When they came to Dean it was by accident, Castiel said, and then when Dean had started hunting with Sam it had seemed to be for convenience, rather than something that meant—anything. Shifters, alphas. Vampires. Castiel knew all of it and told Sam earnestly, not judging. Sam had tried to kill Bobby but it was all right, Castiel said, because Dean had gotten so fearful and sick that he'd let himself die, to speak to Death, to make Sam right. He would have died, if Sam hadn't gotten right. It had been worth that. It had been that bad.

There's a text, from Dean. Sorta got the sword. Back in 8 hrs. Want any sourdough?

Sorta? Sam chews his lip. Just the dragon-killing magic weapon, thanks, he texts back, and Dean texts him a :) and Sam puts down his phone and stands up from the table and wants to vomit. Jesus christ. Soulless, he thinks, again, and pulls the amulet out of his pocket, winding the cord around his knuckles, staring at it.

He kept it. Somehow, some way. A year and more. From however he got spit out of the cage, from looking at Dean and choosing to turn away from him, to having Dean back and treating him like—he shudders. His indifferent callous body, carving an efficient line through the world. Sam wants to remember and doesn't. He does want to know what the exact moment was like, when he stuck his hand in his pocket standing on a street under a flickering lamp, watching Dean through a window like a damn pervert, and felt the amulet skin-warmed and heavy against his skin, and thought—what?

He puts it back in his pocket. Eight hours, until Dean gets back. Sam drags his hand over his mouth. When he shifts he can feel it—a little, nagging weight, pressed against his thigh. A year and a half of that with no reason to keep it. With all the reason in the fucking world to keep it. He blows out air until his chest is empty. Eight hours. He'd better have something to show for it. He gets to work.

*

He remembers, of course, later. Fractured, incomplete. Three selves' memories colliding and sleepless nights with a monster whispering in his ear. He curls on his side in a too-warm bed and watches Dean, curled beside him, sleeping. Frowning in his sleep. Lucifer says, though Sam ignores him, "Imagine how much easier he'd have had it at Lisa's, right? Bet she wore sweet little nightgowns, too. Where's yours, Sammy?"

In the cage he hadn't worn the amulet around his neck, not like he had in the year of Dean's absence. Lucifer didn't allow that. Sometimes he would crouch alone in the dark while Lucifer and Michael fought and he'd get space to breathe although breathing there always felt like the coldest depth of a North Dakota January. Shards of ice in his throat. The air thin. The air, of course, not real, but no matter how much Sam's conscious brain tries to rationalize when he has a moment to think, the cage isn't a place for rationality. Lucifer throttles him and Sam knows distantly that his lungs aren't real but he chokes anyway. He chokes. The air whittled thin in his throat and the edges of his vision vignetting to black, to sparkle-shot oxygenless, uncertain—

He turns his head, gasps deep. "Aw, thought I had you there," he hears, and turns fully onto his back, and they didn't bother undressing tonight before Dean crashed miserably into the mattress so he's still got his jeans on, and he shoves his hand into his pocket and wraps his hand around the amulet and squeezes so hard the horned heavy edges tear into his thin unhealed skin and the pain—god, the pain, piercing, cleansing.

It hurts. The room's quiet, except for the rattle of the heater under the window. Dean's breath, at his side. Not quite a snore. Sam's bleeding. He can feel the bandage getting wet. He curls his hand tighter and fumbles in the dark. A hitch—Dean's baby snore, interrupted—and Sam goes shh, as soft as he physically can, and Dean huffs and turns over and puts his face on Sam's shoulder, and Sam squeezes his hip through his jeans very gently, settling down. Lucifer will be back, he knows. When it's worst. When he thinks he's nearly fallen asleep. When Dean wakes up, in the pre-dawn because he has to piss, and he leans in first and kisses Sam's jaw, rough and sleepy with his breath rank, when Sam loves him just—the absolute most—Lucifer will ruin it. Even if Sam knows it isn't real it's as predictable as it is gutting.

He pulls his fist out of his pocket, amulet included. Dean won't wake for—what time is it?—hours. He turns his head toward Dean's, presses his lips against the warmth of his hair. He settles his fist on his chest. If the blood spills—well, it won't be the first time Sam's lost a shirt to blood.

*

Taking the amulet out of the trash wasn't a decision, when he did it. When animals are cornered their lashing out is survival, nothing else. He kept it because—he had to keep it. It wasn't possible that it be left where it was. An indifferent housekeeper dumping it into the mixed refuse of a half-dozen rooms; a trip to a dumpster, and then a dump, to be lost. No.

They had—

Sam knew it didn't matter in the face of what came later but he still felt it. That day. Vermont, autumn. The leaves dark red in the setting sun, or red just because they were. Immaterial, with Dean's back against the tree and his face tipped up to Sam's. Shocked. Sam's fingers on his jaw and then trailing down his throat, hooking into the cord of the amulet and pulling, down, to the demon-head, and Dean letting that tiny insignificant weight tip him forward so he met Sam's mouth when Sam offered it. The bodywarm of it against Sam's thumb when Dean's lips touched his, and how his hand closed into a fist on instinct, shocked too.

Whatever betrayals had come later. Whatever misunderstandings and miseries. There was still that day, and all the days before. This solid thing that had marked Dean as Sam's brother, for all the months and years marching all the way back to that stupid, shitty Christmas morning, five a.m. cold and disappointing, and Sam making the first decision that was really his own that he'd ever made. Handing over the shitty little packet of a gift he hadn't picked, and Dean looking at him with this—rare, uncertain happiness. Not willing to take it, in case it'd be snatched away like everything else had been.

Maybe that hadn't been a decision either, in retrospect. It was Sam's first day, in a hunted life that wasn't one he'd chosen, and maybe that was just instinct. Looping something around Dean's throat and saying, please. Dean had taken it. Said yes. Tossing it in the trash, later—well, Sam didn't blame him, but and he understood if the yes was retracted, but—Sam couldn't let it go. Even if he was the only one who remembered. Even if, ever after, even if they hurt each other and found each other again and circled each other like twin stars in an uncertain orbit—even if they met, in a dark room, and Dean said to him soft and sorry, Sammy, I swear, and Sam dragged Dean's body over the top of his and took the weight and feel of him like a payment, due—even then. He kept the damn thing, quiet, and his.

It didn't even register, after a while. It transferred from jeans to duffle to backpack to jacket. Part of the morning pat-check, unthinking unless something was missing: phone wallet amulet keys. Amelia never asked about it. Gadreel never interfered with it. When Dean was a demon Sam got up every morning in an empty bed and took a shower and carefully lifted his sling over his head and being ready for the day meant sling wallet keys amulet phone list of contacts he hadn't burned through yet and it just—felt like part of him. He thought about it as much as he thought about his lung.

On the day that Dean almost killed him Sam got dressed without thinking because there were more important things than thinking, and he put on jeans and he put on his boots and he put on shirt, shirt, jacket, and he dragged his hand through his hair instead of combing it, and he put in his pockets keys phone amulet wallet and he stood there, then, in the total quiet of the bunker, and took the amulet back out of his pocket. He looked at it in his palm. Small, heavy. The cord looping back over his knuckles. Dean had had to get new ones, he remembered. The leather ones kept wearing through, because Dean wore it every second: sleeping, waking, in the shower. When they were in bed, and Sam folded Dean in close against his chest, and Dean's lips brushed his jaw, and Sam slipped careful fingers under the cord, worrying at it. If only he'd known, then, the things he had to worry about.

He put the amulet back in his pocket. He went to Dean's room, in the bunker, and found the pictures Dean didn't keep very well hidden, and flicked past the ones of them together until he found the one of their mother. That, maybe. That would work. It wasn't fair, that day, to try to pretend anything else would, and as far as what mattered more to Sam—that was his problem, he thought, and nothing that needed to bother Dean. It was important, he thought, to be realistic.

*

"Give us a minute," Dean says.

"Dean," Sam says, appalled.

Chuck—Chuck? Jesus christ—jesus christ! Sam thinks. Chuck looks entertained, standing there in his sneakers—his Chucks! Jesus christ!—and his jeans and his simple short body and how he's—he's—

"Dude, seriously," Dean says, impatient, and Chuck raises his hands like surrender and says, "Hey, no, I get it! You've got stuff to talk about! Just say my name when you're ready, we've got all the time in the world, I'm sure my sister isn't planning the imminent destruction of all creation," and he winks, and then—disappears, jesus christ because Chuck is GOD—

"Sammy," Dean says, firm.

"Dean," Sam says back, immediately, "what are you doing—holy shit, do you realize—"

"Sam," Dean says, in a different tone, and Sam's gut jolts, hooked. Diverted.

The bunker, quiet around them. They're in the map room and the lights are all on full, bright and warm. Dean's looking at him and Sam—they've been good, it's been good, for months and months—the best it's ever been, even better than those first heady days when they were learning each other, young and reckless—and even with all that, Sam's nervous, somehow.

"How you doing, Sammy," Dean says, eyes narrow.

Sam lets out a sharp breath.

Dean seems surprised at the lack of answer and his chin tips up. He looks at Sam steadily. Sam doesn't know what he's supposed to say and so stays silent, and Dean keeps looking at him and then slides his hand into his pocket, and pulls out—of course.

He holds it low, in front of himself, dangling from two fingers. The heavy pendulum sway. Dean's eyes are low, fixed on it, but Sam's watching Dean's face.

There are obvious things to say that Dean doesn't say and Sam's grateful for it. "You took the other one," is what Dean says, and he doesn't look up to see Sam frown confusion but he must sense it, somehow, because he continues: "From that—jesus, Sam. From that play, that the girls put on. When I came out to the car the next morning it was gone. Doesn't seem fair. You got the prop and the real thing, both."

"Sorry," Sam says, and Dean says, "Christ," and takes the three long steps across the room to where Sam's got his back to a pillar and kisses him. Sam takes it, breathing in. Not soft, not that giving sweet that Dean can be, but it's Dean's mouth and therefore it's a miracle, every time.

Dean pulls back. His brow rolls against Sam's, brief, and then he sets down from where he lifted up on his toes, and he looks at Sam from six inches, their hips pressed together. The amulet swings against Sam's stomach, from where Dean's hands are fisted on his sternum.

"Sammy," Dean says, and Sam takes a deep breath and says, "I didn't mean to keep it—secret."

It's a lie and a bad one. He doesn't know why he said it that way but he doesn't know a truer one. He didn't—make a decision about it. It was just that…

Dean doesn't call him on it. "You said," he starts, and then his cheek sucks in on one side. Sam notices for the first time how tired his eyes are. It was a long day. The fog and the people they couldn't save. He folds one hand over one of Dean's, pressed against his chest, and Dean's eyes dip, and maybe that makes it easy enough because Dean says, "Sam, I wouldn't choose her."

Sam takes a deep breath. Their hands rise, all knotted together. Dean says, "It kills me, Sammy. That you think I'd—but I wouldn't. If it were any choice, if I could—make it how I wanted it to be. I wouldn't, not fuckin' once," and Sam says, "I know," just to stop Dean from talking, with his voice thickening up that way.

God's somewhere, waiting in the wings. Sam doesn't give a shit, anymore. Dean's mouth turns up at one corner but it's not happy, and Sam slides his free hand up Dean's side, gripping through his jacket, trying. However he knows how to try. "I know," he says, again, because—christ, he does. That nasty awful fog doesn't get to take this from him. "Dean, I told you before. Whatever she makes you—think, or do. I got it. I can handle it."

Dean bites his lips between his teeth and he looks down. His thumb catches the swinging cord of the amulet. "You know," Dean says, echoing. A question, buried down in it.

He hasn’t said it, specifically, out loud or internally or even when he prayed, back when he thought that praying was something that mattered, but: Sam hates Amara. Hates every aspect of her, baby to adult to imagined vision to physical manifestation to the haunted look, in Dean's eye, when he thinks Sam isn't looking. Hates how she makes Dean doubt. Hates how she makes Dean afraid. Hates every fragment of her that draws Dean's attention away, makes him look into the shadows of the room, makes him weak and afraid of his own weakness. In their bed at night Dean lays awake and Sam is awake with him and he thinks—how can he prove it? How can he show Dean how much he wants to take this burden away—to make it so the darkness is nothing that could come between them?

"Sam," Dean says. "You're…"

Nothing goes there. What could? Sam slides his hand from Dean's side up to the back of Dean's neck, cupping his skull, holding. He ducks his head. His temple against Dean's temple, Dean's breath against his throat. He closes his eyes and reaches and finds the amulet, dangling, on his first try. Luck. He gathers it into his palm and knocks Dean's fist open and closes their hands together, fisted around the sharp little weight of it. Any other day Dean would make a crack about holding hands.

Sam says, "I kept it because I wanted you. It wasn't your fault that things went bad. Or, I don't know. Half yours and half mine. Or maybe it was destiny's fault—fate, or something. It doesn't matter. What mattered was—how you stuck with me. How we—figured it out, every time. No matter how crappy it got, or how much we didn't trust each other, or… Because it's us, right? Every time. It's us, no matter what. I knew that on days I didn't know anything else. Nothing's going to take that away. Not the Darkness. Not God."

True. Dean's temple tips, against his. Their stubble drags together. "Not even the big guy, huh?" he says. Frail. "Seem pretty sure of yourself, there."

"I am," Sam says, not joking, and hears the breath Dean takes in. He squeezes their hands together, squeezes the back of Dean's neck.

"Shit," Dean says, and lets out a fraction of a laugh. "I wish I..."

He shakes his head, tipping away from Sam. Sam looks at his profile. The sweep of his eyelashes. His nose, with the little broken tilt. His jaw, squared. Sam bites the inside of his cheek and then lets go of Dean's neck, and folds their hands together all in a square—Dean's hand over Sam's over Dean's over Sam's—and when he unfolds them the amulet's caught in Dean's palm, and Sam folds his fingers over Dean's fist and pushes it, down, tucking it neat into Dean's jacket pocket. Dean blinks at him.

"I don't need a reminder," Sam says. Echo of something that feels like forever ago, surprisingly—now—true. "I'll be right here. No matter what. I swear."

He lets go of Dean's fist and slides up his arm, holding his shoulder instead. Dean looks back and forth between his eyes. "Thank you, Sam," he says, serious.

Sam nods. Dean looks up into his eyes, and then at his mouth, and when he leans for the kiss Sam responds simply, holding him and trying to say—everything there is to say. There could never be enough time, to say all there is to say.

Dean pulls back, after a few seconds. Not nearly enough. Their noses brush together and Dean's hands are on his chest, heavy. The amulet in his pocket. Where it belongs, Sam thinks, but it doesn't—matter, the same way it did before. It's not tying Dean to him; it's not a relic of a promise, broken and then kept. He touches Dean's jaw, with his thumb, and Dean sighs against him.

"Guess we should call him back," Dean says. "You think he knows we totally made out just now?"

Sam groans, and pushes Dean away, and catches him smiling. "You're totally going to hell," he says, and Dean winks at him, and turns away, and calls out, "Yo, Chuck!" like he's calling the literal creator for a dinner of hot wings, and Sam would despair but Dean's hand is in his pocket, and—well, they're okay, so. It's okay.

[disgruntledkittenface]

Raspberry filling and/or caramel? 🍫

hiii thank you!

Raspberry Filling: share a snippet that means a lot to you personally.

So, okay. The thing about Grace Kelly is that she was the third of four children and growing up, she was the shy, quiet one that no one expected much of. The focus was on her siblings (the smart one, the boy, the funny one). She was kind of overlooked, but according to the biography I have of her, she didn't let on if this bothered her. I've tried to create a similar dynamic with Harry's family in the AU, one that bothers him and that his family doesn't acknowledge. I have a conversation with Gemma and Harry during the wedding week where I lifted from her Another Man article a bit, and it means a lot to me because it's like healthy communication wish fulfillment. I've always felt overshadowed by my older sisters, and when they had kids and I didn't, a lot of the time I felt like my family treated me like a second class citizen or something, and it would mean a lot if one of them acknowledged that. I'll share a snippet of the scene under a cut! (oh god is that all I was supposed to do or was it okay to bare my soul)

Caramel: tell me a bit about your favorite scene, and why it’s your favorite.

Can I just tell you the existential crisis I had yesterday trying to think of my favorite scene! After careful consideration, it's all of them, but for this answer, I think I have to go with the cocktail party at the start of the wedding week where Harry and Louis' families meet for the first time. I really enjoy writing Harry's family especially, and this scene has a lot of moving parts – there are a lot of characters, a lot of little bits of exposition, a lot of family dynamics. It was really intimidating to write because I wanted it to be what it was in my head SO MUCH but I think I nailed it. There's a snippet here if you want to read!

chocolate themed wip ask game questions

send me one!

“So, H,” Gemma starts as she takes his hand and starts buffing his nails. “I thought it was strange when my baby brother ran off and became this huge movie star. But now you’re an actual prince.”

“Prince consort,” he corrects her, just to be a pain in the ass.

“You know,” she continues, as if he hadn’t spoken, “my friends always ask if I’m jealous of you. Even after I tell them what a loser you are. But if I’m totally honest, the answer is yes. I’ve always been a little jealous of you.”

“What?” Harry wrinkles his forehead, trying to absorb her confession. “Why? I know you don’t actually care about money or fame and stuff like that. And you’re the ‘smart one,’ the ‘successful one.’ You’ve always been the favorite. Why would you be jealous of me? When you’re around, it’s like I’m invisible or something.”

“I know the way Mom and Dad act is fucked up sometimes,” Gemma says, keeping her gaze down on Harry’s nails as she starts to apply the pale pink polish. “Maybe more than just sometimes. And I’m sorry, H. I really am. It’s not fair. But the thing is, I’ve always been shy. I hate public speaking. I have a hard time making friends. I’m good at school but I’m bad with people. And you’re, like, the exact opposite. People love you, they always have. You’ve always been good with people, with making connections. You were practically a born entertainer. And let’s just say that I would have traded some of my A’s for, like, an ounce of your charisma.”

“Wow,” Harry breathes, blinking as he takes everything in. “I never knew that.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” Gemma says, finally looking up and making eye contact. “It was easier that way. And I think I wanted to tell you now because… look, I’ve always been proud of you. Always. But being here and seeing you take on this new role, this new life? I’ve never been more proud. You’re so good at this, H. And I just wanted you to know that, and to know how happy I am for you.”

Harry gets on his knees and reaches across the table, drawing his sister into a hug and ruining his nails. Even though it’s uncomfortable, they embrace for a long time. No teasing, no joking.

“Thanks, Gems,” Harry says at last, his voice shaking as a few tears slide down his cheeks. “That really means a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, H,” Gemma replies, ruffling his hair. “We let things go unsaid too much, we have to stop.”

“We do,” Harry agrees as they both pull back. He wipes his eyes as he settles on the floor. “Sorry I fucked up my nails. You’re gonna have to redo them.”

“There he is,” Gemma says with a wry smile. “My bratty little brother.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It’s a lovely, long overdue moment that’s broken when someone starts banging on the door.

[eluminium]

Uh oh it’s a debate! (Fic)

Well uh, I’ve been dead for half a year. But now I’m back! Schools been a bitch but Summer break is here and I’ve written something out! Lets watch two idiots argue! Tracy Spacey belongs to @reginaldcopperbottom go follow them and Lucien Rousselle belongs to @quec-two follow her too

"Conductor, with all due respect, what will we gain from this plan?"

The varying tone of the Council Members' voice felt like acid in the Conductor's ears and the pressure inside her skull only increased. Elg felt a simmering irritation nip under her skin and she swore that she just popped a blood vessel. The sleek figure of her biggest rival, Tracy Spacey, stood with arms crossed across the table, unyielding in their questioning. A predominant frown showed their dislike, along with their stiff but straight posture. The air in Elg's lungs left in a huff, and the soft padding of her fingers traced her temples in circles.

"Didn't the older members of our honorable council teach you that you should never play all your cards on one possibility?" Elg challenge as her eyes traveled over the quarreling Council Member.

"Of course they did and that is why I am objecting to this self-destructive plan." Tracy fired back, a harsh glare treating Elg's larger form as she did theirs.

"To hide a large portion of our loot from our ally is only going to inspire mistrust Conductor, and for someone who fought so hard to establish it, I find it strange you'd risk it based on unfounded paranoia." They continued with a small smirk resting on their lips, the smugness leaking off their words.

Elg's lips were sealed while her form rose from her seat, the wooden chair digging into her hand. Her head lolled to the side, not unlike a curious dog.

"Unfounded paranoia? Mind elaborating on that?" She questioned, her fingers tightening around the rim of the chair.

"Tell me, do we have any reason to not trust The Masqueraiders and their leadership?" They spoke while their legs carried them towards the nearest window, gloved hands moving from gripping the other arm to gripping each other behind their back.

"There is no evidence of backstabbing after all." They continued.

"At the moment...Yes, there is no evidence of betrayal from our ally" The Conductor admitted through grit teeth, feeling the annoyance bubble in her veins as her eyes bore into the Council Member.

A satisfied sneer sneaked onto their face as their body twirled around to meet Elgs, displaying a feeling of victory and command despite standing a fair distance away from the Conductor.

"Then why are we having this debate in the first place? Order the Metallics to cease the transfer-"

The chasm that leaked words abruptly stopped as their gaze locked onto the finger that rose into the air, signifying them to shut up. A simple gesture for most, but those used to debates with the Conductor, it's a warning. Tracy felt a similar rage seething in their veins as the Conductor, but they chose to obey, crossing their arms with a grunt and a glare. They were however curious of what her counter would be.

Elg, satisfied with Tracy's silence, spoke.

"You are correct by saying there is no evidence of dishonesty from our ally-"

A snobbish glint danced in their eyes as they kept eye contact with Elg. In response, Elg's feet carried her forwards, closing the gap between them ever so slightly.

"-But have you forgotten what world we operate in Council Member?" She continued sharply while her steps danced closely to Tracy's personal space. Tracy felt their body react by taking a step back, and their arms sneaked back into a defensive position.

"I don't follow your line of thinking, Conductor" They rumbled as a counter, their asphalt-colored gaze hardening as they were locked with Elg's sharp ocean blue eyes.

With a confident step forward, and a small squeak from Tracy as their personal space was breached, Elg felt a dark chuckle escape her lungs.

"We're criminals, Council Member. We operate in a space where betrayal is rewarded greatly, and so are the Masqueraiders. Yes, they might not plan to betray us now, but in the future? Anything is possible. Besides, they might be planning to stab us in the back right now, we just haven't noticed."

For a split second, the room was silent. Not a single sarcasm-filled sound bounced off the metal walls. The only noises either of their ears could pick up were their own and the other's breathing. The space between them barely existed, their chests squished up against each other. Despite Tracy slightly outclassing Elg in height, Elg's more bulky form made them look quite small pressed up against her. The stillness continued. Tracy's mind drew a blank, Elg waited for a response.

But as the clock in Tracy's pocket ticked, both their gazes averted and both moved back a step, with the Conductor doing it calmly while the Council Members step was more panicky. Despite this, Elg quickly reestablished eye contact, refusing to look away until Tracy gave them an answer. Tracy, in their turn, fumbled a bit.

"D-Don't you think I know that?!" They spat out, flustered, while their body moved into a guarded stance. Their spine was erected and their foot hit the floor repeatedly.

"Well, If you did maybe you wouldn't be so naive!" Elg snarled back angrily, the rage in her blood starting to boil over. Both their tones drowned the room in toxicity.

"Don't patronize me, Conductor! I'm not a fucking child!"

"Stop acting like one then!"

"Oh, I could say the same to you! You're putting the stability of our alliance in peril because of some childish fear!"

"Why do you even care so much?! You were one of the biggest opponents of said alliance in the beginning! You fought tooth and bloody nail to prevent it, constantly calling me a false conductor who doesn't care about her people! And now that I'm actually prioritizing the Bowties you fucking fight me on it! What happened?!"

Their feet shifted their balance to their toes as a preventive scoff left them. Their body kept dragging in itself.

"It doesn't matter! People are allowed to change their god damn opinions Conductor!"

Suddenly, something clicked in the Conductors head, and her stare once again traveled over the huffing Council Member. The defensive position, the avoidance of the question, the almost fearful tone in their voice, bouncing around in her ear...

"You gotta be kidding me" She muttered spitefully, her stare turning into a glare.

"Wha-?" Tracy started but was caught off guard by the Conductors' sudden change in volume.

"It's that wasp-looking guy isn't it?! Lucien Rousselle, right?!" She raised her voice, the sound of fury echoing.

"W-What about him?! What the hell are you on?!" Tracy spluttered, a red heat traveling through their cheeks.

"Don't play dumb with me you clock-obsessed moron! It's so obvious even I can see it! I see the looks you give him! You're prioritizing your dainty little feelings over the safety of our faction!" Elg roared, the stomp of her steps slowly approaching Tracy once again.

"U-Uh n-no! That's not true! Uhm...uh...but but BUT WHAT ABOUT WEASLEY? YOU TWO ARE CLOSE! DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK HE'D BETRAY YOU? YOU THINK HE'S JUST ANOTHER LUIGRA?!" Tracy bit back, panic rushing through their bones. They HAD to change the topic, and fast. Even if it meant hitting some weak spots.

Now it was Elg's turn to be completely bewildered. Her footsteps ground to a halt as she was forced to recalibrated her brain.

"What the...What?! Just because we're close and work together doesn't mean I'd sacrifice the safety of my fellow Bowties! And don't you DARE compare him to that...that greedy blue-haired fucker!" Elg stuttered out, confusion and anger dribbling off her voice.

"Well, maybe you should ACT like it then you daft idiot!"

"Hah! Rich for you to say love bird!"

"S-Shut up! I'm not in love with a fucking economics minister! You tried to teach Weasley how to play fucking POOL yesterday!"

"That has nothing to do with ANYTHING-"

"Oh doesn't it-?!"

"Conduta' Elg?"

Both of their mouths clamped shut as that familiar Arabic voice filled the room.

"Y...Yeah, Aynan?" Elg huffed out, completely out of breath from the shouting match.

"We nee' to le'ave tha' area soon, ya nee' to prepa' tha' train" He continued, his words soft and delicate like a cloud.

"Yes, yes of course. I'll head out now" Elg responded, her body taking her towards the door like she was on autopilot, with her Young Soul waiting outside.

Before she left the room, she once again stared into Tracy's thundercloud-like eyes. They were both gasping a bit, exhausted from the dispute turned screaming match. She was met by anger, confusion, and fear. Her own sky blue gaze showed similar emotions. From this, both of them knew this debate was far from over, and that they'd clash again one day soon.

[evanoracronwell]

Sunrise

Malex Cupid 2021 by @malex-cupid​

Day 3: “Do you know what today is?”

Also on ao3

__________________________________________________________

It is the sound of the phone ringing that awakens him.

With a grunt, he rolls over the bed until he reaches the nightstand and picks up the device, when he sees the notification on the screen the smile opens on his lips, and any irritation at being woken up disappears.

I'm already on my way home.

I can't wait to see you.

Love you.

Alex.

Alex, his beautiful and irresistible boyfriend.

And fuck if Michael would ever get tired of that word.

Smiling like a teenager, Michael answered the message, and as soon as he pressed to send he heard the growl coming from his feet on the bed. Wrinkling his nose, he looked at the beagle spread on the bed with his face completely mashed from sleeping.

"What is it, girl? It's not that early, it was almost time to get up anyway. We have a lot of things to take care of today"

With an excitement that made Buffy snort indignantly, Michael got out of bed and goes straight to the bathroom to take a quick shower and finish waking up.

Today was a very important day.

It was the first Valentine's Day that he and Alex would spend together, as a couple.

And well, honestly speaking, it was the first Valentine's Day that Michael would celebrate at all. He had no idea how to make it work. But it had to be perfect.

Because Alex deserved nothing but perfection.

So he changed his clothes and get ready to start the day.

He took Buffy for a walk even though the dog was clearly outraged about getting out of bed so early on Sunday morning.

He cleaned the whole cabin, feeling extremely proud of the home he built with Alex.

Now completely renovated, the cabin barely resembled that house that Alex had inherited from old Jim.

The couple's bedroom had been painted a light color, the bed replaced by a king bed, the wardrobe custom-made by Michael himself. The chair in the corner where Buffy always took refuge to sleep when she wasn't in bed with them.

The bathroom had been enlarged and adapted to Alex's needs, the treat they had done to themselves by buying a hot tub, and that they spent hours and hours in the water relaxing after a tiring day.

The living room now has a huge and comfortable sofa, armchairs and a television.

The kitchen had been renovated and modernized.

Everything was so perfect, so ... theirs.

The photos were scattered around the rooms. Showing captured moments of happiness between him, Alex, and the whole gang.

After so many years, Michael finally had a home to call his own.

And most importantly, a home with Alex. What made it even more special

With the house clean it was Buffy's turn to face the terrible shower, and the cowboy could only laugh while the dog whimpered as if she were suffering the worst torture at the hand of one of her fathers. But there she was, bathed and smelling the baby scent of the products they bought at the pet store, and with a pretty red bow that Isobel had made to buy for the dog.

And that was exactly why today had to be just perfect.

Because after eight months of living together, he would finally ask the hand of that beautiful man in marriage.

"Okay girl, now you behave yourself because Dad needs to go out and buy things to make dinner. Your daddy will be here tonight." He smiled when he saw how Buffy immediately reacted to Alex's mention. "That's right, girl, he'll be back today."

Michael had also changed a lot, months ago he had opened his own mechanical garage after old Sander decided to retire, the place had undergone a major renovation and was nowhere near the old Junkyard. Michael even had employees working with him, well ... just two kids that Michael was still training and teaching everything. But they were good kids and above all, hardworking, and after all, Michael never even imagined that he would have his own business.

As he drove to the market downtown, Michael found himself thinking about how much life had changed.

After Alex finally left the air force, he got a job at a private security company in Washington, but luckily he could work remotely, they paid extremely well and it made the job too perfect for Alex to turn down, so now taking the few trips he took to personally attend a few customers, Alex was always at home.

When parking the truck in front of the market, the cowboy smiled when he saw his sister standing at the front door waiting for him.

"You know when I said I was coming to the market when you called me, it wasn't an invitation for you to join me." Michael grunted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a shopping cart and Isobel joined him in the aisles.

"Please, as if you could keep me away. Now tell me, how are the preparations for the big night?"

"I already cleaned the whole cabin and bathed Buffy and yes, I put on the bow you brought her yesterday."

"Great, my niece has to be beautiful. The candles?"

"I have already spread some of those aromatic candles around the house, I will light them as soon as I hear his car pull over. The delivery man left the flowers for me just before I left the house, they are already in the water and I will finish fixing them when I return home."

"Your clothes?"

"Washed and ironed."

"The ring?"

"On my nightstand."

"Your heart?"

"Coming out from my mouth."

Isobel laughed out loud at her brother's terrified look and hugged him around the waist, laying her head on his shoulder as she watched Michael go putting all the items in the cart.

"Michael, he loves you. Nothing is going to go wrong tonight, trust me. He will say yes. There is no couple in the world more perfect for each other than the two of you."

"We really are perfect together, aren't we?"

Isobel laughed again at her brother's silly passionate look, but she still agreed, because in fact there was no couple more in love and more perfect for each other than Michael and Alex.

"So, what's the menu going to be?"

The small box in his trouser pocket seemed to weigh a ton, making Michael's nervousness increase by the second.

Well, it turns out that cooking seems a lot easier in the videos he had seen on the internet than in practice. Not that Michael was not a good cook, he was, but he understood a lot more about cooking typical daily foods, yet he couldn't deny that he did an excellent job.

A few hours later and he had a perfect gorgonzola risotto, a rare grilled steak with a sauce of herbs and vegetables sautéed in butter. The table was already prepared with candles and a flower arrangement, beautiful, but small so that it wouldn't disturb them to look each other in the eye.

With a shower already taken and perfumed Michael looked in the mirror, that was not the kind of clothes he used to wear, dark gray trousers and a light blue shirt, but it was worth it, especially when he knew how turned on gets seeing him like that.

Perfect.

Tonight had to be perfect.

When Alex parked in front of the cabin all he could think about was how much he missed Michael, after four days away, all he wanted to hug his boyfriend and get into the hot tub for hours.

Upon opening the door, however, Alex felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you know what today is?”

The room was lit only by two lamps that barely gave any light, leaving the rest of the lighting responsible for some candles. And flowers, white roses because Michael knew it was Alex's favorite, scattered as buds and petals everywhere. And right there, in the middle of the room, the most beautiful of all men.

Michael looked at him with a smile on his lips and his eyes were already watering.

"Michael ...?" Alex asked confused but thrilled as he dropped his backpack at the entrance to the cabin and took a step closer to Michael.

"It's Valentine's Day Alex, our first Valentine's Day together. And I've spent a lifetime wishing for this day, but never really believing that it could truly happen. Thirteen years ago you gave me a place to spend the cold nights, a guitar, and one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen in my life. " Michael started talking, staring at Alex, who was still a little confused, walking towards his boyfriend until he stopped in front of him. "You showed me that there was good in people and that there was a place for me here, on Roswell. On this planet. You gave me hope, Alex, hope that I could be happy, hope that there was more to people than just cruelty and second intentions. You taught me what it is to love and be loved in such a pure and intense way that it stayed with me, saved in my heart for more than a decade. Nurturing and comforting me every time I felt alone and lost. "

The cowboy smiled and touched Alex's face, who was looking at him so beautifully, his eyes already wet and shedding silent tears, both of them barely moving in fear of breaking that moment so sublime. Michael, speaking in a whisper as if he was afraid to wake up from that dream he felt he was living.

"There hasn't been a single day in my life that I haven't missed you, that I haven't thought of you, and most of all, that I haven't loved you. I'm yours, Alex, totally and completely yours, body, soul, and heart. I am yours to do anything you want. I always have been and will continue to be until my last breath, and beyond that too. I waited more than a decade to finally have you in my arms, and here we are living a life that I never even dared to dream of being possible. But we're here, celebrating our first Valentine's Day together. But I want more. "

With a beautiful smile, Michael took the box out of his pocket and saw how Alex immediately choked and sobbed as Michael went down on one knee showing him a beautiful and delicate silver band.

"I want to celebrate every Valentine's day with you, I want to start a family and see kids running around in our backyard, I want to adopt more dogs, I want to grow old by your side Alex. So please, could you make me the happiest man in the world and accept being my husband?"

Feeling completely overwhelmed with all the emotions he felt at that moment, Alex felt unable to even breathe for a few seconds while looking at Michael.

The beautiful and irresistible, Michael.

The eternal love of his life, Michael.

Kneeling at his feet asking Alex to be his forever.

"There is nothing in this world that I want more than to be your husband."

It was Buffy's bark that woke him, the small, plump beagle was lying on the sofa and Alex laughed when he saw her adorned with a red bow with the words "be my valentine" in white. Looking back at the man kneeling in front of him, Alex smiled so delighted and in love that Michael didn't even dare to blink for fear of losing that vision.

Alex never thought it possible to love that man more than he already did, but here was Michael proving him wrong.

Alex answered in a hoarse and choked voice and then threw himself into Michael's arms causing them to fall on the carpet in the middle of the room, between tears and laughter they kissed in love while Buffy barked and mumbled as if she were also celebrating the news.

"I love you, Michael." Alex murmured against Michael's already red and swollen lips after exchanging long, passionate kisses.

"I love you, too, Alex."

When the next day dawned, Michael grunted when he felt the light coming through the window waking him up. But the sigh coming from the man between his arms made him open his eyes and smile.

Last night had been perfect, much more than he had imagined.

Alex had accepted his proposal, they had eaten dinner while talking and listening to the soft melody that Michael had selected to play, and then they had spent a long time immersed in the hot tub where Michael sank into Alex's body, loving every bit of skin that he could touch. Only later, they went to bed and it was the cowboy's turn to ride Alex passionately, taking all the beautiful moans out of that mouth that he loved to kiss.

Now, holding the most important person in his life in his arms, Michael sighed contentedly as he brought his body closer to Alex, wrapping him tighter in his arms, and then smiled seeing the ring adorning that beautiful man's finger.

Alex, his fiance.

Alex, his future husband.

Yes, Michael smiled feeling his heart overflowing with love and happiness.

He smiled feeling the warmth of a new sunrise touching his skin and bringing all the promise of a long and happy life with Alex

Life couldn't be more perfect.

[kpopchangedme]

Sun-drenched [M] - Youngjae

Every time you opened your mouth something outrageous came out but unfortunately, your new dorky step-brother seemed to be immune. You couldn’t tell if Youngjae was actually that clueless or if your reputation preceded you. 

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You

Word Count: 4.6k

Genre: NSFW - Cringe Fest - Smut - slight exhibitionism - f*ckgirl - Stepbrother!au || [One Shot]

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

Your mother was doing that thing with her hair again, slightly shaking her head every time her new beau spoke. Every single bob invariably made her blonde curls spring. How disgusting. You had asked to be bleached once, a few years ago, and she had the audacity to claim it would look cheap on you. So unfair. 

She hadn't met her fourth husband for more than 6 months before she did just that. She thought it made her look younger, but Miami-midlife-crisis was more like it. It wasn't pretty wheat blonde, it was white yellow-ish banana buttercream. On-sale daffodil... Much like the sad ones Youngnam had gotten her from the convenience store yesterday.  They were now awaiting certain death in a crystal vase husband-number-two had gotten her for God knows what occasion.

You rolled your eyes when your latest stepfather started going over safety rules again. At your dad's there was never a need for them and if you correctly remembered the last time you had lived with your mom... You smiled, imagining how Dr. Top Surgeon would react if he found out his perfect church-going wife used to pop pills like candy and store a very impressive bong in the third drawer of her kitchen.

That would make for a fun scene. 

The goodbyes seemed to stretch half an eternity in the living room, after which you got dragged to the hall where the speech began all over again. Your mom gave you a short hug, more of a shoulder squeeze, then she pulled back and frowned with intent as much as her botox allowed. You shrugged off her silent don't-screw-this-up warning, already waving goodbye to her husband. Shoo shoo, you thought, sending the adults off to a far far away location. 

As soon as the door shut behind, you squealed in excitement. 

Summer had officially begun! 

Moving half across the country to fake “house sit” their new place while they honeymooned in Boca wasn't exactly what you had scheduled for your vacations. But when Youngnam accidentally let the words infinity pool and cars – as in with an S – slip out during the weekly video call, not even the dread on your mother’s face could’ve deterred you from flying over. 

As it turns out, Dr. Choi was loaded. 

Something you probably would’ve figured out earlier if you’d bothered showing up for the ceremony at all. Unfortunately, the wedding hadn't matched your Spring Break’ schedule and you decided having been present to the many previous ceremonies should be considered enough daughterly care for a lifetime. 

As you bent to the freezer for a celebratory parent-free popsicle, you felt the eyes of that gift-that-came-with-the-house glued to your ass. He briefly glanced down at the flash of your stomach’s skin when you jumped to sit on the counter. 

Surprisingly enough, your mother’s many rings had never once come with a step-brother before...

Usually, she went for the bachelor or womanizer types and those had the decency to never have baggage. Dr. Choi was a break of pattern and the news came with complete horror on your part.

For as long as you could, you had made a duty of never meeting his son, pretended he didn't even exist. So when the bubbly blended trio came to pick you up at the airport yesterday, you had been shocked.

They had said soloist of the local Choir and you’d heard; loser. Piano lessons? Dork. All-boys school graduate? Stuck-up. Computer Science Major? Nerd alert.

No one had talked about… That.

As a matter of fact, Choi Youngjae himself had not spoken much either, but he was certainly looking... 

And there were few things you enjoyed more than having a man's undivided attention.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen in all his glory, your new step-brother was staring, as usual, watching intently as you sucked your popsicle. You made sure to make a show of it.

“So… What about lunch?” He finally asked even though it was barely 9. Just to rattle him you hummed on the sugary treat as a reply. Mission accomplished. “S-Should I order pizza?”

“Don't worry, I’m easy...” Youngjae’s gaze fluttered down to your belly ring again. Boy, if he liked that one he had a few things coming. “I’ll eat anything if it's on you.”

Gaze widening, he pretended to look at something over in the living room and walked away.

Wait no, the poor guy literally bolted out of the kitchen to escape to safety. So fast one could wonder if this whole first exchange was the fruit of your devious imagination.

Oh no, you had just traumatized your babyish step-bro.

It made sense, you were one scary bitch.

All-boys school graduate? Virgin, you mentally took note. 

Or perhaps your mom had said something about you devouring the souls of poor innocent men. They said the apple never fell far from the tree. Grinning like a shark, you discarded the melting popsicle in the trash.

This promised to be one Hell of a summer break. 

______________________

“It’s been more than 10 minutes...” Chimlin flipped the phone over to yell unintelligibly at her demonic baby twin sisters. Despite the protection, you winced. “No DMs.”

“Then he hasn’t seen it yet.” Artlessly reporting for BFF’ duty was a lot more fun face to face, but for a few months, video calls would have to do. “Trust me.”

“I don't know,” she whined, going on all over again about how her boyfriend hadn’t picked up the phone since their nightly routine fight of yesterday. 

Sometimes you wondered if you’d even follow her back on Insta if you met this current sad version of herself. Kinda hard to tell, but she used to be the coolest baddest chick on campus. Then she was partnered with that Italian exchange student for a Statistic class, disgustingly dripping pheromones, cash and European pizzazz. Yes, Statistics. The most boring course ever, let's be real. But Chimlin was a genius, the deadly hot kind. No matter how shit-faced she was, that girl could track the B-52s and Gin Tonics’ calorie count of each respective member of your girl squad, not that she'd ever had to care herself.

Then Massimo came. At first, he was just a casual hook-up, but he managed to worm his way into her brain and grew there like a tumour. By the end of last semester, they were full-on steady-going together like in cringy 90s rom-coms. He was always stuck to her like a parasite.

Gone was your favourite 4 feet 11 party animal.

“Do you have any idea how many bitches Mas could meet this summer?”

You snorted, “Not even close to the number of dicks you could have in Pattaya if you wanted to.”

“Phatthaya,” she corrected automatically with a dramatic eye-roll. “That’s the thing, I don't want to. I only want one dick and he's miles away.” She waved her hand to brush it off right as your mouth opened in protest.

Her Italian barnacle did want to remain with her on campus for summer, but Chimlin thought she had better plans that involved a lot more beaches and fruity drinks. She simply couldn't live with her own poor life choices now and you were just about to tell her so when a flash of skin on the screen distracted you.  

“What else have you been hiding?” You sing-sang, impressed by the view. 

She glanced over her shoulder, “That's my uncle. Like... He’s literally my mom’s lil’ brother. Gross.”

“I know what an uncle is and that's a very hot one if I’ve ever seen one. You can look.”

“We’re not all depraved sluts like you.” She only half-teased with a sharp laugh. “How's the cute new brother doing, by the way?”

“No idea.” You flipped the camera and zoomed on Youngjae's bedroom window like to prove a point. The curtains were drawn, concealing anything worth mentioning from view. You were lounging by the pool on one of those fancy long chairs, much as you had been for the past week. Margarita, sunscreen, repeat. If this boring routine went on, you’d be so tanned by the end of summer no one on campus would recognize you. Sometimes you did think Youngjae's curtains were wobbling, maybe he was spying on you but it could all be your imagination. “Typical. He's been in hiding from me since day one.”

“I don't blame him.”

“Don't blame me for wanting him either. He's a good boy in a bad boy’s body.”

“I don't even know what that means...”

“No one does. But he's not cute, he's hot. I need him all over me and I've been telling him so, but he's strangely elusive. I think he hits the gym above the grocery store on the corner, I should join.”

“Stalker.”

“I don’t stalk, I live in his house.”

“No wonder the poor guy doesn't go out of that room, I bet he picked up on all your slutty energy.” In the rectangle screen, Chimlin switched to tan the other side and you did the same, laying on your back.

“Ha ha. He'd have to be moronic not to,” you were holding the phone above, casting a partial shadow on your face.

“Your legend precedes you. He's scared you're gonna trap and fuck him.”

“What else am I supposed to do when you've abandoned me and flew to the other side of the world? You know I need a summer project.”

“And of course, it had to be a guy.”

You were so glad she stopped whining about Mas for a minute that you let that one slide. “Well, I am not a needlepoint kind-of-girl.”

“Right, hey maybe it isn’t the incest that’s creeping your brother out. Maybe he's gay.”

Someone snorted out loud at that – not you – and you sat up in alarm.

Two guys were standing by the edge of the pool.

“No, he's not,” said the one on the left, a smile in his voice. They were directly in your sun, so you had trouble making out their features. One silhouette was slightly slumped, the other tall and all limbs. You suddenly felt very exposed, dropping Chimlin to fasten your bikini top in a hurry. This show wasn't for strangers to enjoy.

“Who are you?” The second man asked, clearly lost.

“She's it,” the other echoed.

“Who are you? I live here.”

“We're your brother's social life,” the frisky one smiled largely, kind of in a dangerous way that you immediately recognized for your own. Friends, they were Youngjae's friends and they very clearly overheard your embarrassing banter with Chimlin.

Flushing – a rare occurrence – you brought a hand to shield your eyes from the sun while you corrected; “Step-br–”

A sharp voice cut in, “She's not my sister.”

Behind, Youngjae was standing awkwardly by the patio door, a stern look on his face. He didn't seem surprised his people were there. He didn't even glance in your direction before disappearing back as you blankly stared after him. 

“Well, thank fuck,” the you-guy turned to wink, following him inside. “Good luck with your summer project! I’ll root for you!”

In a daze, you picked your phone back up. Chimlin was still there, waiting dilligently to be briefed on what just transpired. You puffed your cheeks, mentally preparing for what was to come.

______________________

Swear to God, Youngjae had not come out of that room for two days.

Two.

Fricking.

Days.

Maybe he had a fridge in there.

Maybe he only came to life after midnight like a vampire to avoid the whore squatting his dad’s house. 

Whatever his annoying friends told him had certainly made a lasting impression. You just hoped he wasn't the type to go cry to parents whenever something happened. You had no intention of going back to your tiny dorm all alone and sad for the summer just because you hurt his feelings by finding him bangable. Or worse, at your father's.

What was he even thinking?

You had not done anything wrong. Pushed a bad joke a little bit too far perhaps, nothing to get all worked up about. No reason to get shunned out of your mother's life again. 

Youngjae's reaction, or lack thereof, was way out of line.

It's not like you had actually done anything to him. He was such a prude. A prude that eye-fucked you all the time!

Church baby boys were the worst.

What an ass.

.

.

.

Three days?!

Three days of an overly empty house. The atmosphere had gotten so heavy, the air so tense you couldn't even think about anything else. There was nothing left to do. Just sit on the couch inside or by that dumb infinity pool, starring at the drawn curtains of your step-brother's bedroom. They weren't wobbling anymore.

Which was what you were actively doing this afternoon, ruminating your dark thoughts for hours. You didn't even notice you were getting dangerously warmer. When your timer went off, announcing it was sunscreen time again you nearly fell from your chair. 

Doing the legs was the easiest part, your favourite to be honest. They were one hell of an asset of yours. You were massaging the thick lotion on your right calf when something at the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

For a heartbeat or two, you thought you were hallucinating. 

Youngjae had finally reappeared. 

He was standing at the end of the pool, a knapsack thrown over his shoulders. His thumbs were hooked in the straps, hands dangling to his sides like dead weights. If he looked like a young boy at first glance, the heated look on his face was one of a man.

Frozen still, you gulped. True to form, he kept staring for a long moment before turning to the house and you thought he was about to go into hiding again – but oh no, fuck – he was actually pacing towards you. 

“I’m back.” Youngjae blurted out awkwardly, mouth twisted. 

Yours was opened in a mix of disbelief and shock. He was actually addressing you. “Back?” From where the corner store?

“Yes,” his eyes ghosted over your poor excuse of a bikini before anchoring themself back to safety in yours. Again, horny eyes. If you were warm earlier, now you were burning up. “I thought it'd be better if I stayed away at Bam's for a few days…”

Right? No one could actually stay between four walls so dilligently. It made sense. You were so dumb.

Apparently, your confusion was evident. “Didn’t you notice I was gone?” No, you had not. So your step-brother was so freaked out being around you that he actually moved out for a few days. Had you gotten that bad? Jesus. “Anyway, I’m back home with you now.” 

Youngjae took a step closer, kindly getting in your light so you'd stop squinting at him. He looked even hotter in the bright light of day, sweat pearled between your breasts. He frowned and bit his lower lip waiting for a reaction. The things you'd do to that perfectly proper mouth. 

Of course, what came out of yours at the moment was less than appropriate. He was right to be scared, you weren't safe at all.

“Wanna do me?”

Yes, you were that bad. Terrible indeed.

“Do I-I,” he gasped for air – oops, “w-what?”

“My back,” you clarified smiling like a prisoner that hadn't been fed a good meal in days, “sunscreen.” The poor man should've stayed far far away from you. 

You weren’t crazy or desperate, but you couldn't resist. You had been patient and unusually upright so far. You deserved a treat. You were hungry and you knew your step-brother wanted you too, he wouldn't have felt the need to hide away otherwise. Youngjae had an interesting duality, shamelessly thirsting over you one minute and getting flustered and embarrassed the next. He must have been deeply unsettled by your open invitation because before you could flip over, he had claimed possession of the bottle. 

Or maybe he just didn't need to be asked twice this time. He knew. He wanted to give in to temptation. Why would he even come back here otherwise? 

Laying down, you reached to undo the bikini strings, pressing your loosely covered chest against the rough towel on the chair. You waited.

“You must really hate tan lines,” Youngjae said in your back, sounding tormented, “it seems you're never properly wearing clothes.” He sat down in slow motion like an obedient little boy as you grinned. 

“Are you ever gonna put your hands on me?” You teased once more, it was like a string was tugging up your insides through that dirty mouth of yours. You wanted to keep pushing him, wanted to find out what it'd take to make him break. And just fuck you really. It was fighting the inevitable by now. 

Every guy you met wanted to have you.

Usually, you didn't have to beg.

“I'm trying not to,” he admitted the obvious. “I promised I would never touch you,” Youngjae grumbled and you jerked in surprise when lotion spurted on your lower back. “Promised my father I’d treat you well.”

It made sense, a good boy would never disobey and do his dirty step-sister. If your legend preceded you, his golden son’s reputation certainly did too. Honestly, this promise made the taunting easier and even more tempting. It made for a funnier challenge and the spark in Youngjae's eyes when he looked at you hinted you could break him if you really tried.

You were about to defy his ethics again when words went back down your throat, letting way to a sharp sigh. He had suddenly fully committed to applying your sunscreen, fingers exploring your skin. You asked to be touched and he had risen to the occasion, firmly rubbing the lotion on your naked back. 

Earlier you had every intention of teasing him further by enjoying this a little too much, but you weren’t sure it was entirely voluntary when the first moan escaped. If he wanted to keep it PG, he probably should’ve stopped right there, but it didn't seem to deter your step-brother. He kept going, massaging you along the way. His thumbs traced circles up your spine until one of his palms cupped your nape. 

Perhaps this is what an erotic massage was supposed to feel like, heaven. Every stroke was totally appropriate, very perfect boy-ish, but still, your toes were curling. After a few minutes, Youngjae's breathing was heavy, he was enjoying this impromptu contact just as much.

You both had made yourselves obvious these past weeks; him with the eye-fucking, you with the open-truths. Clearly, the forbidden nature of your desires would make for an even more intense experience. You couldn't even imagine how it'd feel to take it further now. 

“I've never had a step-brother before,” you mewled, mentally following the downwards path of his hands.

“I bet you love messing with me,” he replied, barely audible. 

His pianist’s fingers were now haltingly sliding up your ribcage. He wasn't rubbing in anything anymore, just caressing all he could reach. 

He was right, but you wanted more. That was the sexiest thing that happened to you in forever. Having a guy want you bad enough he had to hide away to resit, and now having his hands on you. You wanted him everywhere, all over. You didn’t care; step-brother promises or not.

Giving in to temptation, you turned around, resting on your elbow. Your untied bikini had not followed so you watched as his face fell in realization. Youngjae's mouth opened in awe, eyes glued to your bare perky breasts. At the moment, there was absolutely nothing going on in that male brain of his. He didn’t move; you helped.

As soon as you put one of his hands on your chest, he came back to life. 

“Jesusfuck,” he breathed out, completely winded.

Wow.

Church baby boys were the best.

Entertained, you reached for the sunscreen, pouring lotion on yourself again. “You aren't done.”

“I…” Youngjae swallowed back his protests, cupping your boobs with both hands. He couldn't even look up anymore, enthralled by your nakedness.

No matter what their intentions were, it seemed good guys were still guys after all. If you had known he was this easy to overwhelm, you would’ve walked around topless sooner.

“The neighbours will see us...”

He didn't seem to mind that much, seeing as his thumbs were stroking your pierced nipples relentlessly. If those middle-aged housewives you only caught glimpses off looked over the edge now, they’d have a pretty impressive show. 

“Let them,” sitting, you snaked a hand to his dramatic bulge. Your mouths got so close you felt his breath ghost over. Beaten by your expertise, his shorts’ button came undone first, his fly was even more compliant. 

The moment of truth.

Youngjae's whole body shook when you took his cock in your palm. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Fuck, he was so hard and flushed for you. He pinched your erected nipples in response and you felt a familiar vivid jolt of pleasure and pain down to your toes. Not a virgin, after all, no doubt he would handle you just fine. 

You pressed your mouth to his neck and sucked, right where his Adam's apple bobbed.

That's it, all for you. You were so going to eat up that good boy.

“Mmmm, I’ll tell daddy you’re treating me so fucking well...”

Of all the filthy things you had said so far, this was the one that got the strongest reaction. The wrong one. Youngjae jerked up to his feet, tugging at his shorts in panic. He swore a dozen of times, out of his mind as you stood there, frozen still.

“Sorry,” he offered at last, pitiful before running for his life to the house. 

Fuck.

No.

Surely you were feverish. 

Having a heatstroke.

You had imagined the whole thing.

You had not just being left out cold by a man.

This type of shit never happened to girls like you. 

It took a few minutes to gather back your thoughts and when you did, you decided this wasn't even close to completion.

Without wasting a second more you stormed inside the house, almost flying upstairs to that mythical off-limits bedroom of his. You didn't bother banging, he was in such a hurry he forgot to lock behind, so the door flew open. 

Like a scene straight up from a bad porno, Youngjae spun on his computer chair, a hand still wrapped around his fully erected dick. You couldn't believe your eyes.

“Are you jerking off?” He was already pulling up his shorts again to cover himself, caught red-handed, blushing as though you hadn't been doing it yourself a moment ago.

“I’m sorry, I don't think you–”

“Please don't stop on my behalf,” you waltzed in, confident, and sat on his well-made good boy's bed.

“W-What?” Youngjae blinked, even more, rattled by the sight. 

He didn't leave because he didn't want you, he clearly did. He probably only left because of his father and that dumb promise he mentioned.

“Is this how you've been dealing all along?” You laid back on the comforter, smirking and remembering all those afternoons by the pool you’d thought you’d seen his curtains fall. He certainly enjoyed spying so it gave you an idea. He could try to resist you all he wanted, you'd still made him cave. “You don't want to touch me, right?” Your step-brother nodded, spellbound. “Because you're the perfect son.”

He swallowed hard, “But you keep… Saying those things, sunbathing… And to my friends...”

“Yes, you’re right... So let's start over.” You sighed in fake contrition, “I'm sorry, I've made this so hard for you. I’ll be good too from now on.”

Youngjae scoffed in disbelief, “You are sitting topless on my bed.”

“Oh,” looking down at yourself, you cupped your breasts. “I thought you liked the looking.” His cock was standing up, glorious testimony to this mess. “Don't worry, I get it. I promise I won’t let you touch me...” Throwing your head back without breaking eye contact, you moaned and lightly twisted one of your pierced nipples. “But I’ll make you watch...” Out of his mind, Youngjae did just that as you caressed your own chest for him. Somehow his eyes on you now burned even better than his hands earlier. 

You were so turned on, so worked up by all the days of teasing and loneliness. Your hips started swaying on his bed, craving some fiction and release. 

“You're crazy,” his voice was laboured but he had yet to escape again. This time you wouldn't have followed.

“I-I'm so wet, Youngjae...” Giving in, your right hand fell to your sex, rubbing your last piece of clothing. He was captivated. 

“Fuck it,” he immediately breathed out in surrender, hand wrapping around his dick. That was it, you finally had him. He was all in, playing along with your new favourite family game.

No touching, just innovative teamwork.

You had to establish ground rules, but pushing them was what fun was all about.

“I want you so bad...” You mewled, slipping your middle finger inside your bikini bottom.

Stroking himself, Youngjae groaned, “So you’ve been saying baby, but now you have to show me.”

Oh shit. You were going to come so fast if the golden son had other surprises like that. In a hurry, you wormed out of your panties before he could change his mind once more. In front of his fully clothed self, you laid back, touching your damp slit while he observed intently. The whole experience was surreal, your mind was buzzing, overwhelmed by the wrongness of it all.

It felt so amazing though.

Touching yourself for your step-brother was the sexiest thing you’d ever experienced, and you were very accomplished. You would’ve done anything he'd asked of you, and Youngjae knew that but he abided by his dumb rules. Standing up he came closer, boxer messily shoved down from his earlier haste, one hand was in his hair, the other working hard. You kept rubbing your clit repeatedly letting him see, hastening the pace until you were numb all over, panting. 

“Youngj-jae, I-I–”

Moaning, you broke faster than you had ever with someone, then again no one knew how to make you reach your own high better than yourself. Paroxysm made your thighs jerked as the pleasure waved through you, annihilating all sense of your surroundings.

When you came back, your step-brother was giving up too, bursting in thick spurts of hot cum all over your body and chest. His eyes were wide opened in black elation, intense, not missing a second of the show as he came on you. His whitish-gray seed painted your bareness in ribbons until he was completely emptied.

In silence, Youngjae dropped next to you on the bed, hands covering his face as you both caught your breaths. His now softening dick was still protruding out of his shorts and underwear for the world to see. It probably made for quite a view; your naked body covered in semen right by your respectable step-brother’s way more humble cock.

If your parents came home early, they would both have a stroke.

Youngjae sort of kept his word though... For today at least. 

Because now that you had him all over, you knew you were going to crave him under you.

And no man had ever resisted your charms before.

Step-brother or not.

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

[maevemarethyu]

Unexpected (1/?)

Summary: A Bucky x Reader fic

You weren’t expecting it. Neither of you were.

That didn’t mean you weren’t happy with how it ended.

Warnings: Cheating, Threats, Sad Boi Hour, Heatbreak, I’m not quite sure what else.

“Your husband is fucking my wife.”

Those were not the words you were expecting to hear when you open your door on a cool Wednesday night. Even more shocking was the man who said them: James Buchannan Barnes.

An Avenger was on your doorstep with red-rimmed eyes and a stoic look on his handsome face.

Your first instinct is to deny the accusation. Your husband loves you! You’d been married for nearly six years. You had been high school sweethearts, you never went to bed angry, you had your neighbors over for game days, hell you had just gone on your weekly date night yesterday!

A date night that he had to leave early because of an emergency at the station but, he couldn’t help that. He was a police officer for the NYPD and he couldn’t control when bad guys decided to be bad.

Right?

Yes. Your husband loves you which is why he hates working late all the time and he spoils you with gifts and flowers. He’s been planning you both a surprise trip for vacation which is why he never let you see his phone or laptop. He had gone to your favorite store to buy you a new perfume which is why his shirts smelled like rose instead of your signature lemon and rosemary scent.

Right?

The tears welling in your eyes make you realize just how much of a fool you really were and suddenly, all you want to do is scream. Your lips fall open to follow through but, your voice won’t comply and all that comes out is a single syllable.

“Oh.” You had never thought a two-letter word could hold so much heartbreak and, apparently neither did the ex-Winter Soldier because his mask of aloofness falls, revealing raw and unhidden heartbreak in his blue eyes.

The two of you stay silent for a moment, processing his words while staring at one another. The unspoken question of now what? lingers between you. What does one do when their world is shattering around them? When you find out that the person you thought was the love of your life was sleeping with another woman.

Last night… Patrick came home late and you two…

“I’m going to be sick.” You announce blearily before rushing to the bathroom and emptying the contents of your stomach. This couldn’t be happening. This was all just some sick dream because there was no way Patrick would do this to you; with the Winter Soldier’s wife no less. You were normally impeccable at spotting a liar but, you had been duped.

“I’m sorry.” The aforementioned soldier’s voice startles you and you wipe the sick from your mouth before facing him. “I-I thought you deserved to know.”

You appreciated it. Really, you did but, you couldn’t bring yourself to thank him. Ignorance wasn’t a good color on you but, you needed time to let the thoughts swirling in your mind settle. Speaking of swirling, you suddenly remember to flush the toilet with a cringe. You could handle blood, excrement, urine and everything in between but, vomit? That was your weak point and it made this whole situation burn more than the acid that had crawled up your throat.

Yet, there was no judgement in his blue eyes when you finally get the courage to look at him; only understanding.

Of course he was understanding. He was probably the only person on the planet that could understand your situation in depth. He was in the thick of it with you.

“I’m sorry too.” You manage after several deep breaths and his jaw clenches tightly. You didn’t know what you were apologizing for but, you could tell he appreciated it; his face was quite expressive for a well-known soldier turned assassin turned hero. “I’m Y/N.”

You knew he knew your name (how else would he have found you) but, you still felt the need to introduce yourself no matter how shitty of a situation you were in. His blue eyes widen in realization before shooting to his boots.

“Ah, shit. I really just rushed here and- That wasn’t the right way to go about this.” Understatement of the century. “James Barnes.” He finishes.

You would have called the way he stumbled over his words cute if your heart wasn’t currently lying in the bottom of your stomach in a million pieces with Patrick’s name written on every shard. It hurt.

“You know, I used to think writers exaggerated how heartbreak felt.” You let out a humorless and bitter laugh. “I didn’t think it could hurt this much.”

The cold tile of your bathroom floor was starting to make you butt ache but, you can’t bring yourself to move from your position resting against the bathtub and you accept this as your new life. Counting the tiles until the pain passes.

He hums in response, sliding down to the floor across from you, back against the wall. “This definitely ranks in the top five shittiest things to happen to me.”

That said something if everything you read about the Winter Soldier and HYDRA was true. You never could understand how people could treat each other so cruelly. Why someone would go out of their way to cause another pain. It just didn’t make sense to you.

Your next door neighbor’s music lilted through the walls as it did every night and it gave you an odd sense of comfort. She was a cello player and always seemed to play whenever you were having a bad day. You and James sit in silence and your eyes fall closed as you listen to her rendition of Electric Love.

It was one of your favorites but, Patrick always complained about the noise. Patrick.

The cheating, lying, manipulative piece of shit.

“How did you find out?” You hiss, immediately regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You didn’t want to know. Right now you just wanted to curl up on your couch and eat enough ice cream to put you into a coma.

He clears his throat and you open your eyes to meet his. The pain in them shone clear and you could feel tears welling up again.

“I had my suspicions. Cla- She had been acting weird for a few months but, she kept turning it onto me. Told me I was imagining things.” His voice was thick with emotion and it broke the dam keeping the tears in your eyes. “It was Sam that saw them. He was testing out Redwing and we thought it would be funny to check on ou- the apartment; maybe tap it on the window and scare her a bit. Guess the joke was on me.”

Oh. You got sick just thinking about it. You couldn’t imagine seeing it first hand.

“I didn’t go home last night. Steve made me stay at the compound while Tony ran facial recognition on your… Tony told me he was married and I came straight here.”

His words cause you to sputter. “You mean they don’t know we know?!”

He shakes his head and a shaky breath leaves your lungs. You were half hoping Patrick got his ass handed to him Avengers style and that’s why he hadn’t come home yet; save you the trauma of confronting him yourself.

The other half of you was glad. You had more than a few choice words for your husband; the first ones being We’re getting divorced.

“I didn’t know how to face her.” He whispers and your ears barely catch it. He sounded so defeated and you were sure it matched the look on your face. You didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this. He was a goddamn hero.

The anger doubles in your chest, making up for his lack of. You’d never seen anyone so broken, hell, you’ve never felt so broken in your entire life and the people causing it were none the wiser. Patrick had told you he was staying at the station tonight but, you knew better now.

He was with her. They were together while you and James were crying on your bathroom floor, trying to salvage what was left of your hearts.

And you were starting now.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the number of one of your best friends, ignoring James’ curious blue eyes. It rings exactly two times before you hear a warm hello?

“Hey Mattie.” Trying to keep your voice level fails miserably when you sniffle. “I- uh. Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? Foggy too?”

“Y/N. What-“ You cut him off with a please and he agrees reluctantly. You agree to meet him at your favorite diner at nine tomorrow morning. You just had to get through tonight.

“Thank you Matt. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone and chuck it past James’ head, through the open door, and it hit the wall with a satisfying crack; catching the Avenger off guard. You weren’t a pacifist but, you weren’t usually so violent. You almost pitied Barnes, he was seeing the worst of you tonight and it was his first time meeting you.

“Friend of yours?” He asks with a barely there smile and you nod while chuckling at your own outburst.

“He’s my best friend… and a lawyer. I want the divorce papers ready so I can shove them in Pat’s stupid face when I confront him.” You notice his jaw twitch at the mention of divorce and you eye his sour look curiously. “What? You don’t expect me to stay with him after this, do you?”

Wide eyes meet yours and he shakes his head slowly. “No. It’s not that. It’s just divorce wasn’t really common in the thirties.”

Oh his sweet summer soul. You had almost forgotten he was a man out of time; still adjusting to the new age. It made your blood boil to think that his wife would betray him like this.

“Welcome to the twenty first century. Where you don’t have to stay married to cheating spouses.” You mutter, raising an invisible glass in a toast.

“How?” He asks, catching you off guard.

“How what? How does one get a divorce?” He nods, looking lost and you don’t hesitate. “Come meet my friends with me. This is all new for me too and I trust them with my life.”

You didn’t want to mention that you honestly wanted him there because he was proof that you weren’t the only one fooled. You weren’t alone in this.

“Are you sure? I understand that its private and-“

“Privacy went out the window when your wife fucked my husband.” You scoff, mirroring his crude language from earlier; he winces before apologizing again.

Your phone goes off in the hallway, signifying the timer you had set was finished and you stand with a groan; joints popping from sitting on the floor for too long. Your mind immediately switches in to work mode; eyes going dry and breathing evening out. It was a superpower of yours; the ability to compartmentalize your feelings.

“I need to feed Laysa.” You walk past the man on the floor, missing the look of horror on the man’s face. “She gets cranky when she’s hungry.”  

He doesn’t speak but, he follows you into the kitchen. You had premade the bottle so all you had to do was microwave it for a few seconds. You suppose having a stranger following you around in your home should be more worrying but, you were just happy you weren’t alone; having the ex-Winter Soldier near you felt as natural as breathing and you didn’t have the mental capacity to question why as of right now.

Barnes opens and closes him mouth a few times, looking as if he wanted to ask you a question but, unable to get the words out.

“How old is she?” He manages after nearly a minute of silence and you answer without much thought.

“Four weeks.” You hum, pulling the bottle out of the microwave and testing the temperature on your arm. “You know Ophelia’s Diner on West 49th?”

Once you’re sure the bottle is warm enough, you meet his blue eyes and a slight frown mars your face when you notice how pale he had gotten. He looks mortified but, nods anyway.

“Meet us there at nine tomorrow morning. Are you going home tonight?” You don’t know why you ask but, the thought of him having to go home and face- huh, you never actually got her name- left a rock in your stomach.

“S’gonna stay at the compound again. Make up some excuse. What about you? Are you two going to- I mean are you alright with- Is your husband?” He was stumbling on his words again and you find it oddly endearing that he was worried about you.

“Patrick is staying at the station tonight.” At least that’s what he told me You add under your breath but, its clear he hears you when his face turns grim. A painful silence envelops the room and can’t stand it so, you clear your throat and re-test the bottle.

James takes the hint and shuffles his feet, looking smaller than a man his size should. “I’m sorry again for showing up like this.”

“I appreciate you for having the balls to come here and tell me the truth.” You say with an honest, albeit dim, smile. “I’ve gotta get this to her before she gets cranky. I’ll see you tomorrow James.”

He tries to return your smile but, it comes out as more of a grimace. “Goodnight Y/N”

You watch his broad-shouldered form walk down the hall and disappear before opening the door to your spare bedroom turned nursery; weak mewls reaching you ears. You were late with the bottle and Laysa knew it. Cubs could be so dramatic.

[mistymark]

the one where you’re someone else. [jaemin] [part I]

na jaemin x reader // 2.9k words // high school!au // body switch!au

summary; in which you wake up in someone else’s body. more than once.

warnings: swearing, confusion, mention of male genitalia

requested; nope

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Groaning, you roll onto your side, searching blindly for the snooze button on your alarm, your head remaining on the pillow. Five more minutes. Please.

...

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. This time you squint your eyes open, sitting up in bed and rubbing your head groggily. You wonder why you feel so tired, and the remnants of your dream drift slowly into your mind.

Scenes flash through your mind in the same frightening way you imagine one would see highlights of their life before they die. The hallway of a high school that is not your own, a bright-eyed boy grinning at you before he sprints away from you, a test that you had definitely not prepared for, a cute café and delicious treats, the strange feeling of not recognising yourself in the mirror...

“Y/n!” A voice calls for you from the kitchen, and you hastily slip on a pair of slippers and make your way through the house in search of breakfast. A small frown sits on your mother’s face as she finishes making her own breakfast, “Two days in a row you haven’t been awake on time. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? Maybe you should go to sleep early tonight.”

“I’m fine, Mum,” you roll your eyes as she presses the back of her hand against your forehead.

“This is so unusual for you,” she mumbles, almost to herself. When you push her hand away to reach for the juice, she goes back to her breakfast, momentarily forgetting about the newspaper she had just been reading sitting beside her. “Yesterday I was starting to wonder if you’d had some kind of mental breakdown.” She looks up at you then, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion; you’d been exactly the same yesterday, only less tired.

“It’s… been an exhausting week,” you try to find an explanation. She seems satisfied with the answer. Looking at the time, you quickly stand up to rush to your room, “Shit. I need to get ready for school.”

You busy yourself with getting ready for school, only a little annoyed at yourself for not having packed your bag last night, the simple disruption to your morning routine adding a few minutes to your normal departure time. You were sure you’d packed it last night, but your belongings scattered around your room clearly disagreed. Quickly sliding your binders, books and laptop into your backpack, you rushed around your room. Luckily, you didn’t miss the bus.

“Y/n!” Your best friend, Nina, sees you shortly after you enter the front doors of your school. Her excitement to see you is shown in the way she smiles at you, though it shortly changes to a small frown as she looks you up and down. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you answer honestly, shying away from her assessing gaze. Her eyes scan your face.

“Nina, would you quit it?” Seungmin laughs, giving her a slight push. You hadn’t even noticed him walking up to the two of you. She stumbles, her eyes moving from you to him, narrowing. “She’s fine,” he states, turning to you now.

“You were acting so weird yesterday,” she stresses to you, still looking at you tentatively as if she expected you to spontaneously combust any second.

“What?” You frown in confusion at them, wondering why they were being so dramatic. Maybe a bad test result made you cry yesterday, but that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for you. Opening your locker, you tear your gaze from your friends in favour of focusing on piling your books onto the shelf. From the corner of your eye, you can tell they’re still watching you wearily. “Alright, spill it. What’s up?”

“You…” Nina struggles to find the words.

“It was like you were a different person,” Seungmin finally says. “You kept forgetting who you were, where you were, what you were supposed to be doing. We thought you had amnesia or something.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you look between them again, “You’re kidding, right?” You think back to yesterday – Tuesday – and can’t remember anything out of the ordinary.

“No, Y/n, we’re dead serious,” Nina responds, eyeing you again.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you guys but I have a class to get to. Mrs Kim has a paper for me,” you grab your history books and close your locker.

Nina looks at Seungmin confusedly, “Don’t you have history third period?” He nods. She turns to you again, “Y/n, history is third period. We have chemistry first.”

“We always have history first on a Wednesday,” you smile, rolling your eyes. “Come on, guys, you know I memorised my schedule on the first day.”

There’s silence, before Seungmin grabs his phone from his pocket, pressing the button so the screen lights up and dangles it in front of your face, “Yeah, well, it’s Thursday, so history is third.”

The bell rings before you can dispute this. Even though, of course, what could you say? It was Thursday – your own phone said so, so they couldn’t be messing with you. How could it be that a whole day had slipped from your memory?

You drift between classes in a confused daze, only loosely focusing on the words of your teachers and peers, slowly writing half-finished notes and barely registering when the teacher was giving you homework.

Your focus was primarily on Wednesday – yesterday – and why you couldn’t remember anything. There were plenty of memorable things that happened on Wednesdays – you had gym class, your usual ice cream date with Nina and Seungmin, work. Yet, you couldn’t remember any of them.

“Did I hit my head yesterday? I can’t remember anything at all,” you frown, whispering to Seungmin while Mrs Kim drones on about the cold war.

“Maybe,” he tries to suppress a giggle. “You sure were acting like you did.”

Yawning, you turn over the page of notes you were adding to, revealing a page of messily handwritten notes that definitely wasn’t done by you. The handwriting, for starters, was a messy scrawl that frequently sloped in a downwards direction and overstepped the neatly printed lines on the page. Completely done in black ink, without any highlighting or colour coding the rest of your notes had, you dismissed it as Seungmin writing in your book.

But Seungmin used blue ink almost religiously, and the handwriting didn’t match his. Why would Seungmin write ‘who am i?’ over and over in my book?

Your name was scrawled in the corners of the pages, as if you had forgotten it and needed the reminder.

“Y/n,” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Mrs Kim, who was handing out a worksheet. She smiles at you, “Ah, so you remember your name today?” Seungmin snickers beside you and you elbow him swiftly, effectively shutting him up. “Did you read my notes on your essay?”

You blush, embarrassed and guilty, “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the ti-“

Mrs Kim gives you a warm smile, “That’s okay. Let me know when you have.” She walks away, moving on to another student.

Seungmin leans closer to you, his eyes remaining on the teacher, “I’m surprised she didn’t mention the fact that you dodged her yesterday after class.”

“Huh?”

“She wanted to talk to you about the notes on your essay, and you completely ran out! Not as if you had any place to be; Mr Park was late to calculus again.”

“Oh. Oh, right,” you mutter, lowering your chin to the desk.

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

“Where the fuck is my essay?” You groan in frustration. Hyunjin, the poor soul whose locker is right beside yours, startles at your sudden outburst.

“Are you okay?” He shuts the door of his locker gently, leaning against it as he looks you up and down, concern on his face.

“Mrs Kim gave me an essay yesterday and I must’ve misplaced it.” Your locker isn’t exactly messy, so there are very few loose papers in there. A quick flick through the few documents stashed haphazardly in your locker proved it wasn’t in there.

“Don’t you have some intense filing system?” His eyes flicker down to the binder in your hand, dividers neatly sectioning off different parts. “Is it not in there?”

“If it were in here, I wouldn’t be searching my locker,” you mumble sadly. His eyes widen.

“Right... Seungmin has history with you, right?” Hyunjin’s attention shifts to something behind you, and he waves a hand, gesturing for someone to come over. “Hey, Seungmin!”

“Hey, dude,” Seungmin greets. “What’s up?”

“Y/n is missing a history essay,” Hyunjin helpfully explains. When Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in thought, Hyunjin takes it as an opportunity to leave, and quickly departs down the hallway in search of his own friends.

“Didn’t you throw it away?”

“I don’t throw away my essays.”

“I’m pretty sure you did. After you walked out yesterday. I saw you put something in the bin,” his eyes flicker to yours. “I just assumed it was rubbish.”

You groan, pressing your forehead against Hyunjin’s locker, whining, “No.”

“I’m sure Mrs Kim would redo her notes if you asked her. You typed it, didn’t you? Just reprint it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you pout. He smiles warmly at you.

“You’ll be fine, Y/n,” Seungmin rests a hand on your shoulder, attempting to steer you away from the row of lockers and towards the cafeteria, closing your locker door with his foot. “But now, lunch.”

******************************************************************************************

The rest of the day flies by and, before you know it, you’re in Seungmin’s car as he drives you home. The town rushes past you in a flurry of houses and small grocery stores, drive thru restaurants and gas stations, and you struggle to stay awake.

“Hey, sleepy head, you’re home,” Seungmin tries to suppress his laughter, giving you a light nudge. “Get out of my car.”

Groaning, you slump away from the door, clumsily finding the door handle and almost falling out of the car, “Fine! I’ll see you tomorrow, assface.”

“Yeah,” he smiles warmly. “See you then.”

The hours of the evening are mostly taken up with homework, as you try and get as much done as possible before the weekend. As it steadily approaches midnight, you find youself getting more and more tired, eventually getting to the point where you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. And from there, darkness consumes you.

******************************************************************************************

RING! RING! RING! The alarm is loud and so annoying. You wonder why you chose to wake up to this, rather than your usual alarm, and turn to your side, fumbling around for the snooze button, your eyes still shut tight from exhaustion. Your eyes open when instead of hitting your bedside table or your alarm, your hand slams into a wall, eliciting a loud grunt from your mouth. For a second, you’re shocked at how deep your voice sounds, but your shock turns to fear when you realise you’re not in your bedroom.

You’re in a bedroom, but it’s certainly not your own. The walls are white, covered in posters and photos and a huge wall hanging that has plants growing out of small pots, leaves cascading down the wall. It’s homely, cute, but not where you expected to wake up – and due to that last fact, horrifying.

You clamber out of bed in search for your clothes, your shoes, your bag, anything that belongs to you. Unable to recall when or how you got here, you wonder if you’re hungover. But you didn’t go out last night - on a Thursday - you didn’t drink last night, and your head isn’t at all sore. Despite the lack of a headache, you still reach a hand up to your head, rubbing it. Your eyes widen at your hair – well, the lack of hair. It’s short, and you can feel the way it’s sticking up in all directions from sleep.

You rush to the mirror in the corner of the room, screaming when you realise you don’t look at all like how you normally look, and screaming louder when you realise your voice is so deep.

You’re a boy.

Ew, you think.

Wait, you look in the mirror. This is some crazy ass dream.

You take a look around the room, seeing the face in the mirror in the photographs, recognising the familiar brown hair and sparkling eyes. Reaching a hand up to touch your face, you push and pull the skin, watching it move in the mirror. You almost expected it to stay rigid, as if you were wearing a mask. This is so weird.

“Jaemin! Are you getting ready for school? Jeno’s going to be here in any minute!” A female voice calls from – presumably – downstairs, and you quickly look around the room. A uniform is hanging on the back of the door – one you don’t recognise – and you move to get changed, though something stops you.

You wait a second before responding, in case the voice was calling to someone in the house. When no one responds, you take a leap of faith, “Yeah! I’m getting dressed now!”

You look down briefly at the cold grey pyjama pants you’re – Jaemin’s – currently wearing, and take a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut as you pull the material down. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

You decide you have to open your eyes when you pull the school shorts on backwards (and you can feel that it’s backwards in ways you could never begin to explain as a girl) and try your hardest to think about anything else. You find the bathroom, which was thankfully located opposite the bedroom, and go about your normal routine as best you can.

The school bag slumped against the wall is empty, and you look around the desk for anything you might have to take with you, packing a few notebooks, a laptop, a pencil case (if you could call it that – it appeared to be a plastic bag with a few pens in it) and a water bottle.

“Hey, sweetie,” a beautiful woman greets you as you bound into the kitchen with a lot of energy. Why am I so hyper?

“Hey… Mum?” You cringe as the greeting comes out more like a question, hiding your face in the fridge.

Luckily, she just laughs. “I know, I know, I’m not normally in the kitchen.” She notices the way you scan the fridge, “Hey! Aren’t you and Jeno going to get food before school?”

You freeze, “Oh, um, yeah. We are. I’m just… browsing.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tonight, Jaem. Have a good day at school,” she kisses you on the top of the head, swiping her hand through your hair before leaving. You try your best to fix it, letting it flop down messily over your forehead.

Spotting an apple and a brown banana in a cracked dish on the counter, you slide the apple into your backpack and begin zipping it up when you hear a honk outside that almost makes you drop everything. You stop to listen, and two more honks follow. Confused, you wait. There’s the familiar sound of a car door slamming shut, and then you hear footprints on the front porch of the house. The doorbell rings.

The doorbell is monotonous, and you don’t wait for it to finish ringing before you pull the door open, instantly meeting the soft face of a boy your age, a confused look on his face. You’ve seen him somewhere, but you can’t place him. “Dude, I honked, like, three times. What’s going on?”

“Oh,” you say, dumbly. You surpise yourself by sounding even dumber with the question that follows, “Jeno?”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows draw nearer as he frowns at you. “Are you playing that ‘I don’t know who I am’ joke again?”

You force out a laugh, “No, I’m just messing with you.” You give him a light punch on the arm, trying to act like every douchebag guy you’ve seen in a high school movie. It’s tragic that you suddenly can’t recall how real boys act. “Let’s go,” you push past him, sighing in a way that makes it seem like he’s the one acting weird and not yourself.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but then he shrugs and heads back to his car, waiting for you to finish locking the house (after much confusion over which key it is).

Once you’re in the car, you pull out the phone that had been sitting beside the bed you’d woken up in and thought thankfully that there was a finger-print unlock feature. Quickly scanning through a few messages, you learnt that Jeno was probably Jaemin’s best friend - and you were in a few group chats; ‘the Bros’, ‘chemistry lab group’, ‘mark’s birthday plans’, ‘Mum & Dad’, and a few others.

“So, I was thinking, Hyuck’s having a party at his place tonight, right?” Jeno begins talking, and once you realise you’re going to have to go to this party, too. “Hyunjin is coming, and he’s bringing a few girls from his school – you know, that guy we versed in lacrosse a few weeks ago? His parents know my parents and – whatever, it’s not important. He’s bringing a few girls and I’m hoping that girl from the game is- Hey! Are you even listening?” Jeno’s eyes flit between you and the road, and you turn to him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Did you ask him?” You’re dying to know if he’s talking about the Hyunjin you know – the real you knows – but you’re too self-conscious to ask too many questions, wanting to just get through the day with as little confusion as possible.

“Nah, I don’t really know the guy. He’s friends with Hyuck, though, I think, so maybe he’ll know.”

“Can you ask Yuck today?”

Jeno laughs, “Are you bringing back his middle school nickname? He’s gonna hate you so much for that. But I will, yeah. We have PE together today.”

He pulls into the parking lot of the school, and you vaguely recognise the school, maybe from posters or newspaper adverts, but you’re glad Jeno drove you because at least now you have someone to follow. And, you were unsure whether you’d been able to get to school without him.

You trail after Jeno through the main doors, but he clearly sees someone he knows, because he takes one look back at you before he runs off to catch them, “Catch you later, yeah?”

And it’s right then that it clicks; you know exactly where you’d seen him before: in your dream. You’d been here before. You’d seen him before. You’d been Jaemin before.

Fuck.

[thenextchapter22]

Happy Halloween

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You are walking home from work on Halloween night and get taken to a party...filled with monsters.

A/N: I just wrote this yesterday and I did not expect it to be so long. I was planning on it being a drabble haha. This features all the demon brothers as different Halloween monsters, some I took from Obey Me! and others I came up with. Please enjoy! :))

Halloween night was almost nearing its end. There were no kids out, it was time for the adults to party. Saturday night and a full moon? It was perfect. But you were in no mood. Yeah, your girlfriends were out with their sexy costumes on, but you had an apartment you lived in alone you had to afford so you had to take this extra night at work when you were offered the chance.

______

The night was chilling and the moon was full. You were so ready to go home after a long shift, have a glass of wine, and then pass out watching some good scary movies eating candy and popcorn. Sadly, this would be done alone, but you didn’t really care about that much anyway.

The walk home wasn’t long but it sure felt like it was. You tugged your coat around your body to keep warm, and headed down the cobblestoned alleyway to your apartment.

“Hello, there,” a voice said behind you.

You jumped and turned. A strange man in a dark hooded outfit stood in the center of the path, and you could just see his smirk on a pale face. You took a few steps back, ready to fight. Those self-defense classes were not going to be for nothing.

“What do you want?” you asked plainly. Damn, you didn’t have your pocket knife or pepper spray. How stupid could you be, fucking hell.

“I just want… a little bite…”

You paused and tilted your head. “What? Did you follow me from the restaurant, because it’s still open for a couple hours if you’re looking to eat?”

He glided closer, and his face was more visible in the street light above you. He was stunning, and you were in awe at first. Then you saw his eyes dark red. And he had a black diamond on his forehead. What was this guy dressed up as? And he seemed a bit older to go trick or treating…

“Look into my eyes,” he said in a seductive tone.

You did, and waited. If he was going to attack you, you would defend yourself. You were not going to attack first because that would be stupid, he could have a knife or something.

He blinked a few times, and then stepped back. He pushed his hood off and sighed. Wow, he was like a dark angel. “Well, if you would have simply said something I wouldn’t have gone through all of that. Obviously my enchantment was for naught. Are you going to the party? If so, it’s this way.” The man turned, and looked back with a raised brow. “Well?”

You stumbled after him. “Uh, yes, the party…”

Well, it looked like you had something to do after all. Follow this sexy man to a party. It was Halloween.

_+_

You kept staring at him as you walked the streets, which were pretty bare. He seemed to notice it because he glanced back at you, and each time you flushed scarlet. He chuckled each time as well.

“You’re very beautiful when you blush,” he said suddenly, making you jump. “My name is Lucifer.” You introduced yourself, and he nodded and smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”

Eventually you both ended up at a large mansion. You sincerely hoped this wasn’t some elaborate trap. Also, why did you follow him? How stupid were you?

He held open the door for you, and smirked while you awed at the incredible house. “It’s King Diavolo’s property. I assume from your expression you have never been to his annual party?”

You shook your head. “N-no.” King Diavolo?

“Hm, interesting. Let me take your coat,” he said, and you gave it to him. Lucifer placed it in a closet and then offered his arm, which you took. You felt so under-dressed, but you supposed you could say your costume was a waitress (even though you were one, technically).

Once you entered the next room, you could hear and see the lights of a party in full swing. Then the double doors opened and it was booming bass and flashing lights assaulting your hearing and vision. Glancing around you saw all types of costumes. Demons, Werewolves, Vampires, Mummies, and more. Some were really well done, too. It was a rave of faux monsters and you were just in a plain every day outfit.

“What do you think?”

“It’s… wow!”

He agreed. “Come, let’s get you a drink. I didn’t get mine so I’m quite thirsty.”

You both walked around the dance floor to reach a smaller section of food and drinks where only two people stood.

“Beel, Belphie, this is my… new acquaintance. These are my brothers.” Then Lucifer turned his head sharply to the left and sighed. “Excuse me, my brother is causing problems. I’ll be right back. Beel, Belphie, you’ll stay with her. She has never been here before.”

And Lucifer left you with the two at the side table full of food. One person was wearing a stitched clothing look, and had stiches all over his face and hands as well. He was portraying Frankenstein’s monster, obviously.

He stopped chewing and spoke, “My name is Beel, and this is Belphie, my twin brother.” He ignored your suspicious glance at the term ‘twin’ and continued eating the food in front of him.

Belphie yawned. He leaned against the table, and blinked blearily. He was so pale, paler than Lucifer, even. Did he wear a costume? He just looked sickly. “Are you well?” you asked on impulse.

Belphie smirked. “You’re very sweet to ask, hm? I wonder… Are you a hum—”

“Beel, how many time do I have to tell you? This food is not all for you.” Lucifer’s voice rang out.

He was suddenly beside you, with someone else in tow. A tanned man with little to nothing on, jeans and no shirt with a dog costume featuring wolf ears and a tail. He had a sharp-toothed grin as he looked you up and down.

“Mammon, stop drooling. It’s disgusting. I apologize for his behavior, we didn’t get to train him properly.” Lucifer went to Beel, then, and was attempting to rearrange the food on the table and show him what he could eat.

While the twins chuckled, Mammon rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m just appreciating the view, that’s all!”

You blushed. “W-what? I’m not some piece of meat, you know!”

Mammon licked his lips. “To me, sweet cheeks, you are.” He winked. How rude was that!

“Hey, I didn’t know we all were getting together! Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because your annoying, Levi,” Belphie said monotonously.

Levi was a purple haired man with a witch hat and scepter in hand. He had ridiculous stripped tights on, too. But he was kind of adorable.

“Rude! I am not annoying, you are! Always moaning around and sleeping, so stupid!” He looked at you, then, and you raised a brow, ready to introduce yourself. But he suddenly laughed. “Wow, if I wasn’t busy I would totally do something about this normie. Okay, who wants to have some fun?” He waived his wand, sparks coming out at the tip, which you thought was a cool trick.

Mammon raised his hand. “Oh, I am in. If it involves some money I’m double in. Let’s go!” Mammon blew you a kiss, and you thought you saw his tail wagging. But that was impossible.

Beel was still speaking with Lucifer when you noticed Mammon being dragged off by the witchy-boy. “I can’t help it if my stomach is like this, you know, it’s just the parts I was given.”

Lucifer sighed. “I know. Next time I’ll make sure Barbatos knows you are coming so he can prepare.”

“No need. I have brought more food for Beel to enjoy so the other guests can as well.” Another sudden appearance, this time with a bat-ear wearing butler dressed man. He also wore a tail? Why all the tails? Seriously, though, if there were any more people popping up out of nowhere you would have a heart attack.

Beel’s face brightened. You couldn’t help but smile, too. “Thanks!” he said, and he dug in.

“Yes, thank you, Barbatos. It’s much appreciated.”

“As I said, it’s not a problem,” the so-called Barbatos said. Then he looked you over, raised a brow, and shook his head. “Not another one.” And he walked away.

You had no clue what that meant, but before you could think more on it another person showed up (you actually saw them walking over, thankfully). This man was tall and dressed in white, with white angel wings behind him.

He smiled at Lucifer. “Ah, Lucifer, I was hoping to see you. It’s been a while. I hope you’re well?”

“I am, thank you. This is my new companion.” Lucifer gestured to you.

The man frowned. “Luci, don’t tell me...”

“No, no, Simeon, she is one of us. I’m not sure what, but you know how impolite it is to ask.”

You were lost yet again, but oh well. It was a party with people you really didn’t know, there were bound to be inside jokes, right?

“Yes, of course.” Simeon smiled at you, and took your hand to kiss it. His lips were smooth and he was basically as perfect as Lucifer, only darker skin and brighter eyes. “Pleasure. Don’t let Lucifer corrupt this bright soul of yours. Enjoy the party.” And he left, asking Lucifer to contact him more.

Lucifer stroked your lower back and you shivered. “Are you cold?” He draped his cloak around you, and you could smell his scent. It was subtle, almost like breathing in cool air with a hint of spice.

He smirked. “Would you like to dance, darling?”

You blushed, but nodded. Lucifer took you out on the dance floor.

“This is so fun,” you said. “I never really go out on Halloween. Usually I stay home.”

“Well, I am glad to have you here with me now.” He leaned in and breathed in against your neck. “Hm, I would love to taste you, however. Shame.”

You stuttered. “U-uh-um…”

He chuckled. “A shy type, hm? Very endearing.”

“LUUUCIIIFERRR!”

He stopped spinning you and pulled you close, and you leaned into him. He wasn’t warm, but he wasn’t cold, either. It was like he had no heat at all to give or receive.

“Asmodeus. I am busy, bother me later.”

“But Mammon is—”

“If he isn’t eating anyone, then leave me alone.”

“Aw, who is your friend? She looks so sweet! Not your type, that’s for sure!” he giggled.

“This is my brother, Asmo. Please, if he does anything to you, let me know.”

The three of you walked to the side of the dance floor and you got a good look at Asmo. He was beautiful. There were fake scales of all colors highlighting his cheeks and neck, and he wore a tight cat-suit. You assumed he was either dressed like a snake or lizard, but you were not sure.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, darling~” He kissed your cheek, and you blushed. He giggled. “I’m a siren, but I promise I won’t sing to you. I couldn’t let this gorgeous face shrivel up!”

You widened your eyes. Wow, these party-goers were super serious on their roles. Maybe this was a huge LARP party.

“Asmodeus, is Mammon behaving himself or not?”

“Ah, yes, yes, he is not, no.”

Lucifer looked pissed. “What is he doing?”

“Oh, you know. The usual.” Asmo waved his hand around like it was noting.

Clearly it wasn’t, as Lucifer strolled away so fast you swore if you had blinked he’d be gone. “What—?”

Asmo laughed at you. “He does that a lot. Anyways, my dear, I must be going. I have a lot of fans to see and people to seduce~ Keep to the side and you’ll be safe! Oh, and call me if you want to have some fun later,” and he was gone.

Left alone for the first time, you actually glanced around. The party was stunning and so were to people. You were glad you went out. Meeting Lucifer and his brothers was fun, even if they were a little weird.

“Here, have another drink.”

You glanced over to see a blonde man dressed in a red and black cloak with striking blue eyes. He also wore false vampire fangs. He nodded at the table, and held out a red solo cup to you. “It’s from the punch bowl. Nothing too strong, no alcohol either.”

You took what the blonde vampire offered. “Thanks.” It was delicious, bubbly and sweet. “It’s good.”

He smirked. “I could tell you’d like the sweeter drinks. You reek of innocence.”

You blushed, holding the drink close to your body. “Uh, okay…” What a creeper.

“Satan. Enough.” Lucifer strolled over. “Are you all right, my dear? Did my brother frighten you? He can be a bit brash.”

What kind of a name was Satan? Also, how many brothers did Lucifer have? Six now? “No, he’s fine. He gave me a drink.”

Lucifer glared at Satan. Satan glared back. Did they just hiss at each other? 

Come to think of it, why did all these guys have strange names like Satan and Lucifer and Leviathan? And while you glanced around, you could see tiny details you had not before. Like Mammon’s fake appendages, or Levi’s wand…

“The time has come. Midnight is upon us! I present with great honor… our King Diavolo!

You were so focused on connecting dots, you barely heard Barbatos announce. Then, when a blinding golden light came from the top of the stairs, you, and other party-goers, gasped. He was stunning. Large, regal, painted in gold and with black wings expanding behind him.

“Monsters of all kinds, I welcome you to this year’s Halloween Party! I hope you all have a hauntingly good time.” Chuckles throughout the room. He grinned. “Midnight is seconds away. Please join me in counting down.”

You looked around, Lucifer at your side, Satan behind you. You saw Levi and Mammon standing together, cheering and raising glasses in time with the countdown. Beel and Belphie behind you, Belphie smirking at you in a way that was lecherous and mysterious.

“Three…  two… one!”

You expected something big, grand, like fireworks. Instead, you saw something terrifying. Firstly, you noticed Belphie. He stared you down as he evaporated into nothing. He was still there, but you could see through him! Then, you glanced around, and really took note of all the costumes.

Only, they were not costumes. You saw Mammon’s tail actually moving. You saw Levi waving his wand and making sparks and more drinks appear. Many, many other things, that you swore you did not see before. But maybe you did, and assumed it was fake and for Halloween?

“Darling, your heart is beating so loud. Are you all right?” Lucifer’s hand on your back had you jumping.

Your heart? He heard it your heart beating.

You shook your head. He looked you up and down, and frowned. “No, no, ‘m not okay,” you said shakily.

He started to lead you away, then. But you were interrupted. By King Diavolo. Oh, my fuck, was he actually a King of Monsters?

“My King,” Lucifer bowed, and you did, too, on reaction.

Diavolo grinned. “Luci, my oldest friend! How are you? Enjoying the party?” Then he looked at you, and you held your breath. He seemed to pause. “What is a human doing here? Are you doing this again, I thought we talked about this when you brought that human two centuries ago.”

You ignored the fact that he said ‘two centuries’ and panicked. “P-please, I-I’ll go now…”

Lucifer was in shock, as well. “But my enchantment did not work, so I assumed…”

King Diavolo stroked his chin. “It didn’t, hm? Strange. Yes, she is human… But that has not happened before.”

You were stuck being observed by him. Trapped in a room full of legitimate monsters. Why did you come? How fucking idiotic could you be?

“Well, it has always been a vision of mine to align all worlds together. I do want to know how she wasn’t affected by a vampire’s enchantment, too. But it’s too dangerous for her to be in this room. Take her upstairs until the party is done.”

“Yes, King Diavolo.”

[justanotherlifeff]

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm and other triggering stuff. THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER

6 months later

"Oi Hanji! Give her something for the pain and do something fucking useful for once!" Levi growled as (Y/N) almost sprained his hand with a squeeze as she held his hand during another contraction. Levi deeply regretted teaching her those exercises to improve her strength all those months back. "Calm down Levi. I'm not the doctor here and I am not using some experimental pain killer that I made without any human testing on my best friend." Hanji replied to him calmly. Levi was loosing his grip as he wasn't ready for it.

When (Y/N) told him that her water broke at dawn, he panicked more than he ever did in his entire life. More than when Kenny taught him how to use knives by almost killing him. "Sir, we can't allow you to stay here... She will have her delivery soon..." a nurse meekly told the fuming captain, only to receive a deadly glare from him. If looks could kill, the nurse would've been dead by now. "Levi, listen to them. They delivered more babies than most of the survey corps’ titan kills." Hanji tried to reason with him. However, that seemed to stop working for the last 8 hours, after (Y/N)'s contractions began. "Levi, as the commander of the survey corps, I command you to get the fuck out of this room." Hanji told him in a commanding tone as she lost all patience with him. He was testing her like a spoilt child for the last 8 hours about almost everything.

Levi fell asleep on the chair in the waiting room. Hanji was sitting beside him, quiet sleepy herself. At least she took an afternoon nap yesterday and she felt immensely guilty for giving a huge pile of paperwork to Levi the same day. He had been working all day and wasn't able to sleep at night too as (Y/N)'s contractions started at dawn. Buying their home at Trost was a great decision as the hospital was nearby as (Y/N) had a hard time riding a horse to get there. Both Levi squad and (Y/N) squad was there except Marie, who apparently had a headache.

Hanji personally never liked Marie either and she agreed with Levi about the fact that this girl was trying to double cross (Y/N). However, Hanji saw why (Y/N) refused to let her go. If she only cooperated, she could've been a good asset to the team. It had been 2 more hours since Hanji got Levi to get out of the delivery room, 10 hours since (Y/N)'s water broke. After these agonising two hours, a nurse entered the waiting room with a pained look but a smile while rubbing her hands. It didn't take long for Hanji to figure out that she offered (Y/N) to hold her hand, given that her hand looked red. Watching the nurse, Hanji was barely able to tap Levi's shoulder twice as he jerked awake and asked the nurse in panic.

"Is (Y/N) okay?". Hanji realised that Levi took the pained look on the nurse's face as a signal to something is wrong other than the fact that (Y/N) squeezed the soul out the poor woman's hand. "Yes they both are fine. They are cleaning the baby as we speak. Congratulations Mr Ackerman. It's a boy. Would you like to see them?" The nurse asked with a smile. Hanji noticed that Levi looked paler than usual. His hands were shaking a bit too. "Yes." Levi answered after getting a grip on himself.

Levi followed the nurse into the cabin where (Y/N) had been transferred. Everyone else followed too. They were made to wait till (Y/N) was transferred into the cabin but that didn't take too long. As the nurse opened the door and walked in, Levi saw a scene that he, even in his wildest dreams never imagined. There on the bed right opposite to the door laid (Y/N), a small white bundle in her arms. She looked tired, almost as if she would pass out but there was a slight smile on her face as her eyes were filled with curiosity and love as she looked at the small bundle. "She doesn't look like herself at all..." Levi internally thought.

Yes, (Y/N) didn't have the look of a ruthless killer anymore. She looked different. "She's giving off the same expression that my mother used to have..." Levi thought curiously as he stepped towards (Y/N). That's when he realised why (Y/N) had such a sudden change. That's because what he saw affected him too. Almost as greatly as it did to (Y/N). Inside the small, there was this small baby, with raven hair, eyes the exact copy of Levi, only they were (E/C) instead of the steel grey that Levi's eyes hold. "He even got that constipated look" Hanji muttered as she followed Levi towards (Y/N).

At this point, Levi sat down abruptly on the chair right in front of the bed. His legs were shaking. There was no balance in his body. Years of training, his unbreakable balance, his extreme reflexes, all gone after looking at this sight. "I have a kid..." Levi's voice croaked out suddenly. Both his squad, (Y/N)'s squad, Hanji and (Y/N) herself looked at him as if they just saw something extremely unexpected happen. It was unexpected after all. Levi, the person who never got his guard down after meeting Kenny, was weak, vulnerable and he didn't bother hiding it.

"Levi, are you okay?" Hanji asked Levi before anyone else as everyone was extremely taken aback by Levi's actions. Even (Y/N) was taken aback as she never saw Levi like this. "Levi... " (Y/N) tried to say but her voice was raspy as her throat was dry. Without saying any more, (Y/N), extended a hand towards his, held his hand gently, trying to make him feel better. "Can I hold...it?" Levi muttered, as he got some grip on himself after (Y/N) held his hand. "Oi Levi! Don't call your own son it!" Hanji exclaimed. "Hanji, let him be. I'm sure he's having a hard time processing it all. I am too." (Y/N) told Hanji, her voice still raspy. The nurse helped to take the baby from (Y/N)'s arms and gave it to Levi, teaching how to hold the baby.

The baby simply stared at Levi, as if he was hugely disappointed with the fact that he was taken from his mother. Levi just stared at the baby for a few moments. He had a family now. He found someone who gave him the reason to live on and now he has a child, someone who he could give the good childhood he never got. Hesitantly, Levi placed a light kiss on the baby's forehead, surprising the whole group of people in the room, not surprising (Y/N) too much as she saw Levi showing emotions before. (Y/N) just smiled, knowing that the man before her was at peace.

They both were at peace. Her dreams came true. She now has a family. The both of them finally found happiness. "You guys, I'll contact the Reeves company and get meat for you all. Sasha, you will be cooking and arranging everything at my house. I'll pay for everything." Levi told everyone, looking at them with a small smile on his face. "M-meat? You will buy meat for us?" Sasha stammered before shouting out, "HEICHOU! YOU ARE THE BEST SQUAD LEADER ANYONE CAN POSSIBLY GET!" while crying like a maniac. Everyone else looked happy and thanked Levi for the treat.

"Guys, get out now. I need some rest" (Y/N) stated after a while. Everyone already took turns to hold the baby and Levi proved to be an overprotective father, as he inspected everyone as they took the baby and snapped at Connie when he made a mistake trying to hold the baby. No one wanted to leave though, as the baby was just too cute to leave alone. After some groans of disappointment, they all left. All except Levi.

"What will we name him?" (Y/N) asked him. She didn't want to bring the topic up in front of the others as she didn't want their contribution in this matter. "What about Farlan?" Levi answered after thinking for a moment. "Sure. It's a nice name. Farlan Ackerman sounds good." (Y/N) answered with a smile. The baby was asleep on the cot beside the bed. Levi looked at him and sighed. "Yeah. It sounds nice" He answered, a small smile forming on his face. He then walked towards (Y/N), patted her head gently and said, "Take some rest. I'll be back soon. I'll have to take a nap myself.". That's when (Y/N) noticed how tired he looked. Levi was used to being sleep deprived. That's not what tired him. What tired him was the amount of tension he went through for the last 11 hours. He very much needed a nap.

(Y/N) was woken by the sound of the door of the cabin opening. She had a sound sleep as the nurses took care of Farlan except for the times when he had to be fed. (Y/N) noticed that it was already evening as she saw the orange light coming from the window into the room. It was Pixis who just entered the room. Of course, it didn't surprise (Y/N). After what he did on her wedding, she came to acknowledge the fact that Pixis was completely unpredictable.

"I see that I have a grandchild now." Pixis stated with a smirk. "Yes. That part was obvious." (Y/N) replied with a stoic expression. "Don't be so bland (Y/N). I'm just here to see the baby. I haven't seen many new-borns in my lifetime." Pixis answered as he walked towards the cot. "Did you ever see me when I was a baby?" (Y/N) asked in return. Pixis stopped in front of the cot and answered, "No. I didn't.". He tried to hide it but his voice showed some remorse and so, (Y/N) didn't further question him. "His eyes look a lot like Levi. What's his name?" Pixis asked (Y/N), as he looked at the sleeping baby. "Farlan" (Y/N) answered. "Ah I see." Pixis answered. Before he could say anything more, Levi entered the room.

He just came back after getting the best sleep of his life as he felt like the happiest person on earth. However, seeing Pixis there worried him. That guy abandoned (Y/N) after all. "Should I give you some privacy?" he asked (Y/N) as he figured that (Y/N) would like to talk to Pixis alone. After all, their relationship was worse than just shaky and Levi thought that him being there would just make things more awkward. "No it's fine. You can stay" (Y/N) answered. After Levi entered the room, Pixis told him, "Congratulations on being a father" with a smile.

"Thank you." Levi answered curtly. The baby was awake by now as Pixis picked him up. "So, we all will pretend as if we are one big happy family?" Levi asked Pixis, raising an eyebrow. After all, the last thing Levi expected was that he would see Pixis holding his son. "Whatever helps him sleep at night" (Y/N) scoffed. To that Pixis let out a brief laugh before saying, "No wonder you're my daughter. However, you've got the sharp tongue of your mother...". At that, (Y/N) stopped him and said, "Don't compare me to that foul woman." with a frown.

"Okay. I won't. Anyway, I will have to take my leave now. And Levi, everyone likes to play family at some point. I won't deny that I'm the reason for which (Y/N) had a horrible life but we can't change that now can we?" Pixis answered before keeping Farlan in the cot and leaving the room. "Are you okay (Y/N)?" Levi asked (Y/N) as he didn't know how (Y/N) felt about the whole thing. "Yeah I'm fine. I personally don't accept him as my father but I'm glad that Farlan will probably have a grandfather. At this point, the only thing I care about is Farlan's happiness as I already found mine" (Y/N) told him with a smile.

1 month and a week later

(Y/N) made certain errors in her prediction from 6 months ago. She had her delivery a week before it was predicted. Farlan however, was healthier than ever. She also took more than a month to recover. A month and half to be exact. Thus, the expedition had to be delayed for a week. Levi didn't even have to push Hanji about it because Hanji figured out how long (Y/N) would actually take to recover a few weeks after she gave birth. She made all the arrangements for the delay of the expeditions by then much to (Y/N)'s disappointment. She however couldn't complain later when she really took a week more to recover. That gave them two weeks to eradicate all titans left in Wall Maria.

Hundreds of titans were killed using the executioner from hell before winter. The plan was that there would be two expeditions. Each with 3 days worth of supply. The survey corps would be divided into two groups. One would be travelling from Trost, eastwards, facing every titan on the way and travelling in groups, 2 squads in each, to attract the titans till they reach Utopia. The other would be travelling from Utopia, westwards till they reach Trost. The only two strategists capable of leading a team if something went terribly wrong were Hanji and (Y/N), with Hanji clearly being better than (Y/N) due to her longer experience in battle. Thus, it was decided that (Y/N), along with Levi's experience, would lead the group from Trost while Hanji would lead the group from Utopia.

The Survey corps had 201 members by now, Levi squad having an extra. The usual squad had 5 members including the squad leader. 20 squads would be there on each group. The formation would be such that every group of two squads would be 10 km apart from eachother. If something went wrong with the formation, red smoke signals would be used. (Y/N) squad and Levi squad, partnered with two other squads, would be positioned in the middle of the formation so that they could immediately run to help if any other squad is harmed. It would, however, take about an hour to get the formation done as the distance between wall Maria and Wall Rose is 100 km and survey corps horses could run at a speed of 80km/hr. Levi squad will give Armin to Hanji squad so that the other team could use the strength they are lacking due to the absence of either one of Levi, (Y/N) or a titan shifter, given that, Armin was the most powerful titan shifter on the team.

Thus, the team from Trost would have a hundred members while the team from Utopia would have a hundred and one. The survival rate this time, would only be a 50% however as everyone is expected to charge straight at the titans instead of running.

"You all will be using your 3DMG to go and get all the dummies cut. However, from today till the expedition, you'll all be competing against (Y/N) here. If any of you can get around the forest before her, congratulations, you stand a chance against her if she just got out of a delivery. If any of you gets tangled in your own wire again, I swear I'll kick you out of the survey corps." Levi lectured all the cadets. (Y/N) joined them as planned today, so that she can brush up her training. The last night, Levi personally took (Y/N) to check if she can use 3DMG, and (Y/N) surprised him.

She was almost as good as before her pregnancy leave. Sure, she was still rough around some edges, her movements weren't as flawless as it was before, her speed decreased noticeably too but she still was better than all recruits combined. All the cadets were greatly interested in watching (Y/N) in action. (Y/N) was the only person in the entire Survey corps who's 3DMG skills were comparable to Levi's. Everyone knew that and as the new recruits never saw (Y/N) in action, competing her seemed like a very good sport to them. Defeating (Y/N) meant coming second to the strongest in humanity. Levi squad and (Y/N) squad however knew that it wasn't possible. "Everyone, assume positions!" Levi commanded and everyone ran to the line drawn in front of the forest. They all stood in line, ready to take off. "And go!" Levi instructed and everyone took off.

The new recruits were surprised to see (Y/N) getting way ahead of everyone at a speed that was impossible for them to reach. "What the hell? She isn't even using too much gas..." one of the recruits exclaimed. (Y/N) was out of their sight in no time and as they found the dummies, every one of them had a perfect slice cut off it's nape. There were 16 dummies in total. It took the others 30 minutes to find and cut down every single one of them and getting out while (Y/N) did the same in 13 minutes. Levi squad and (Y/N) squad took 25 minutes while Mikasa took 18. "Good work out there." Levi told (Y/N) as she flew out of the forest. "Well, I usually am faster than that." (Y/N) answered, as she got her blades in the sheathes in the 3DMG. "Yes. I know that. If you didn't just have a delivery last month, I'd have been disappointed." Levi answered to that. (Y/N) just gave a "mhhm" for reply before she spoke again.

"I'm not so sure if leaving Farlan with Hanji was a good idea..." (Y/N) muttered. "Well, he'll be fine." Levi answered casually. "Are you sure about that? Hanji did try to make him walk at the age of three weeks for her experiments... " (Y/N) muttered remembering the time when Hanji tried to test if Levi's genetics had something that made them become physically developed more easily than others given that all the other known ackermans, Kenny and Mikasa, had good fighting abilities. Of course, Hanji's experiments didn't work and Farlan got hurt and cried, which sounded more angry than pained, thus scaring Hanji to death as Levi gave Hanji a death glare once it happened. After all, Levi did try to kill a commander before.

5 days later

"Hanji, the milk is in the cupboard in the kitchen with the bottle. Boil the bottle before feeding Farlan. The nappies, shirts and blankets are in the third drawer in the wardrobe of mine and Levi's room. If Farlan wets himself, just take anything from there. I kept everything packed in a bag which is also in the wardrobe so that you can bring it when you come to the headquarters. And Hanji, don't try to do any experiments. I'm trusting you on this." (Y/N) explained Hanji. "You explained all of that to me every single day of this week you know." Hanji mentioned in a flat tone. "Well, I was just reminding you..." (Y/N) started before Hanji stopped her and said in a light tone, "Come on (Y/N)! I literally lead the survey corps! Farlan will be fine. Don't worry so much.". "Yeah... I guess I'm a bit too paranoid... Thanks for all the help Hanji." (Y/N) answered with a smile. "Yeah yeah I know. You'll be late for training if you keep trying to remind me stuff now. So, get out." Hanji pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

(Y/N) POV

When I reached the survey corps headquarter and walked in the training grounds, Levi was already there. "You're late. You're doing 50 laps after training." he told me with a frown. Yes, I obviously never got special treatment from him in case of work related matters. I appreciated it though as our personal lives shouldn't interfere with work. The female cadets looked happy with the fact that I got laps. Well, it doesn't matter. It isn't like they have the guts to make a move on Levi. "Well, assume positions now. I'll be following you all." Levi commanded everyone. I joined everyone in front of the starting line. "And go!" Levi instructed as we all shot forward.

"Make as less moves as possible. Preserve gas. Find the locations of the dummies and cut them." my mind kept repeating as I sped towards the forest. The slightest movements caught my attention as some recruits were left to move the dummies. One, two, three... My mind counted as I kept making perfect cuts on every dummy. Just as I landed outside the forest, I found no one. Of course, Levi mentioned that he will be following us in the next training exercise. He probably is with the other recruits.

After about 20 more minutes, everyone else appeared with Levi. Levi looked at me, his eyes showing appreciation. "You reached your previous records. Your moves are as good as before now. Good job." he complimented before turning to the new recruits and saying, "You all couldn't improve any more than 30 minutes in six fucking months and she did the same fucking job in 11 minutes by a week after having a delivery about a month and half ago. This is why I don't train brats like you all. I don't know how Shadis keeps his cool with you all.". He said all of that calmly with a stoic expression but the girls in the group almost started crying already. Levi then turned to my squad and his own squad and said, "You all did okay. There's still room for improvement though.". They all saluted and Levi motioned them to be at ease before looking at me and saying, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go get the laps done."

2 hours and 30 minutes later

I finally was done with the laps. Hanji came by with Farlan and saw me doing laps in the training grounds. 400 meters each lap. About 20 km. "And here I thought shorty was getting soft..." Hanji shook her head as she ran beside me carrying Farlan when she found me. "Well, he honestly got softer than before. I remember him shouting at me back when I took a minute to get a dummy down. Now he's saying his squad that they did a good job after they took 25 minutes to get 16 dummies." I answered. No wonder they weren't improving.

I went to my office to get the extra uniform I usually keep there incase if the one I'm wearing gets dirty. With that, I went to the female bathrooms and took a bath, changed my uniform, went to my office to grab the stack of paperwork Hanji told me that she would leave in my office and went for Levi's office. I knocked on his door and heard his voice saying, "State your name and business.". "It's (Y/N)." I answered. "Come in" I heard his voice, now sounding softer and went in his office. His table had three stacks of paperwork, his face showing the stress that he was on. I sat down with my own stack and started working silently, helping Levi with his paperwork sometimes while he helped me with mine. When I was done, he still had two stacks to complete. I looked at him, he looked tired. Thus, I got up, walked towards his chair and went under the table.

Back when I was about 6 months pregnant, I had this phase when I was horny all the time and that's when I found out that getting a blowjob while he's working calms Levi down when he has to do a lot of paperwork. Thus, this little tradition started where I helped him out every time I saw him struggling with work. I heard a sigh of content from him as I took his dick in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it's tip. I felt his hand on my hair, gently pushing me on his length. I didn't give him the chance to guide me as I started going all out on him, taking all of his length in my mouth and bobbing my head on it, my tongue working at it's tip the entire time. The gentle touch on my hair turned into a harsh grab as Levi took control, making my movements even faster.

I heard Levi's breathing getting disoriented and suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I stopped my assault on his dick so that he could answer the door without having any distractions. "State name and business" I heard him say with a flat monotone voice. He had this way of keeping his body entirely under control, which fascinated me to bits. "It's Cadet Schwarz. I need to talk to you, heichou." I heard Marie's voice. What is that girl upto? "Come in" Levi answered as I heard the door open and her footsteps coming into the room.

"Schwarz, the last time you were in my office, as much as I can recall, (Y/N) gave you a warning about your attire. Why are you violating the dress code again?" I heard Levi ask her. That's it. I know very well what she's trying to do. I'd have to write a report against her and probably give her a talk about backing off from my husband. "Heichou, I will get straight into point. I only joined the survey corps for you. When I heard that they were taking members in the Special operations squad, I thought it was your squad. However, I wasn't lucky enough and ended up in hers. Heichou, I can keep you much happier than she ever can. Just..." Levi stopped her before she said anything more.

"Listen, what you're doing is highly inappropriate. I'm a married man and I'm in a happy marriage. I even have a kid. Even if I wasn't married, I would never leave (Y/N) for anyone. So, I'll tell this to you for the last time, stop embarrassing yourself." Levi answered, in a stoic voice. "Is that right heichou? Then why does your face look so flustered? You know what heichou? You can be with your wife. She doesn't have to know what happens behind closed doors..." Marie continued. I quietly stuffed Levi's penis in his pants and started buttoning him up when I heard Levi's surprised and slightly disgusted voice saying, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?". To that, Marie replied, "I'm just trying to show you exactly what got you so flustered. Isn't that what you...".

"Enough" I spoke up, stopping Marie. I got up from under the table and Marie clearly understood why Levi was flustered after seeing my messy hair. "Marie, go to my office. We need to discuss your expulsion from the survey corps." I told her with a cold tone. "Expulsion? But I haven't broken any rules. By the way, isn't the commander the only person who can expel someone from the survey corps? You can't do that!" Marie scoffed. It was time to put her in her place. "Well, if you don't trust me on this, you can ask Levi if I was nominated to be the commander of the survey corps only a few months ago." I told her, my tone getting colder by the second.

Marie looked at Levi and Levi simply answered, "She's right. See, I told you to stop this bullshit. Even if (Y/N) didn't take actions, I would have.". "Actions? But I haven't broken any rule!.." I stopped her at that and told her, "Marie, five buttons of your shirt are opened. You just ignored a direct warning from a superior. If you think I didn’t write a report on you violating the dress code before, you are wrong. Of course, that alone can't get you kicked out of the survey corps but I also have further complains against you, which we will discuss in my office. So, go.". "No! I refuse to go!" Marie made a bitch face at me.

"You refuse to go? Well, you see, unfortunately as long as you are a survey corps soldier, I will be your superior. You will have to follow my orders or else the consequences would be severe." I told her in a commanding voice as she retreated from the office. "Thanks for having my back, Levi." I told him as he looked at me with worry. "No, it's fine. Just don't kill her." he told me, his eyes showing suspicion. "Don't worry. I won't kill her. I'll just ruin her career." I answered before getting out of Levi's office and going to mine.

Marie was already in the office. "Well, let's discuss your insubordination." I told her before sitting on my chair. "Sit down. You'd prefer not to fall on the floor after I tell you the few things I'm about to say." I told her, motioning to the chair in front of me. She sat and I started. "Do you know what happened to the last person who tried to take Levi from me?" I asked her. She looked uncomfortable at this point as she knew that I had her cornered. "No?" she answered.

"Her name was Petra Ral. She died on the 57th expedition. The female titan stomped on her. Surprisingly, the female titan was able to do that in my presence. The next expedition is coming soon and who knows, maybe you would be eaten by a titan too and I wouldn't be able to save you." I stopped. I saw her face losing colours. Just the reaction I wanted to see.

"You see, as your superior, I had to report every time you almost got the squad killed to the commander. The commander herself questioned your worth and I have been defending you for the whole time. However, it seems like you aren't fit to be in the survey corps anyway, even if I don't consider the fact that you tried to fuck my husband. Honestly, I shouldn't be telling you all these. I should just let you die on the next expedition. You just proved to me how worthless you are today.

However, ever since Farlan was born, I couldn't shake this feeling off me. I don't want to make your family suffer. I know how your mother would feel if you die. So, I would give you a second option. If I talk to the commander and expel you from the survey corps, that would be the end of your career in the military. If I don't do anything, you will die. If you give me a letter asking for a transfer to the Garrison or the Military police, your career would be saved, you would live and I could keep you out of my relationship. Now, go back to your room and decide what you want. I will be expecting a letter from you. You're dismissed." I explained to her in my monotone voice. With that, she left the room without a word. I rested my head on the head rest of the chair. "Fuck.. Farlan really changed everything..." I wondered. After all, I didn't feel like the cold hearted person I was anymore.

To be continued...

Taglist: @reality-is-often-disappointing, @kingtamakimurder