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kyber-kisses · 5 years

Text

Lights Out

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, Y/N and Dean acting like utter children, some minor injuries.

Summary: When the power cuts out in the bunker, Y/N devises a plan on how to pass the time. (Consider this a crack!fic)

A/n: for once, I wrote something fluffy and not full of angst. Arnt y’all proud of me? Anyways I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! ( Also this is a hot mess, and definitely not my best piece but idgaf.)

It was one of those rare Saturday nights. One of the few times where no one was working a case, and the residents of the bunker were practically free to do whatever they wished. Sam had taken Eileen out for the night, Dean was probably having a horror movie marathon on the TV in Sams room, and you were curled up in one of the massive chairs in the library, nose deep in a book you had bought months ago, determined to finish it.

But like so many times before, it was as if the universe saw you with your guard down and decided to spice it up a little bit.

Just as you were beginning the final chapter, the power shut off. All the fucking power just shut off, drowning you in darkness as the bunker became eerily silent.

You half expected the warning lights to flash on, igniting the room in a deep red hue, but it never came, meaning the power shutting off was from a purely normal cause and nothing supernatural.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” There was a shout from down the hallway, and you couldn’t help the grin that crossed your face.

Dropping your book down on your seat, you stood up, naturally moving across the room. You had lived in the underground palace long enough to know where everything was, which made maneuvering through the dark that much easier.

But apparently Dean hadn’t gotten any better, because as you rounded the corner towards your room, you slammed into a solid wall of muscle, and then tripped, collapsing onto the harsh tile floor. Dean going down with you.

The hunter let out a sigh, “Ow. You could have given me a warning.” Dean groaned, untangling his body from yours as he tried to sit up. Even if he squinted, he still couldn’t see shit.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You joked, voice thick with sarcasm, as your hands flew out to find the wall. Unfortunately they did not meet the intended destination. There was another yell from Dean, and you recoiled.

“First you trip me and make me fall, and now you’re slapping me?! What the hell did I do to you?” He exclaimed.

Pushing yourself up from the ground, you sucked in a breath, “I’m so sorry! I swear I didn’t mean-“

You shouldn’t have been waving your hands around because one of them came into sharp contact with Deans jaw, sending the hunter stumbling back in the dark, clutching his face.

“Ow! What the fuck?!”

“Oh God, I did it again! I’m sorry, I so so sorry!”

This was just going downhill at an alarming speed. You needed to fix this, and quick. Before you accidentally found a way to kill Dean.

“I think I have some flashlights in my room.” You breathed, trying to calm yourself.

“Good idea. I’m right behind you.”

But he wasn’t.

As you took a step forward, the two of you slammed together again, Dean hitting his nose against your forehead with an alarming amount of force as yours connected with his chin. You both let out another yell, followed by a couple groans as you nursed the bridge of your nose.

“Oh god, oh fuck. This is a train wreck.” You mumbled, suddenly desperate for the light the bunker was currently lacking.

“Good god, woman. Your sense of direction is terrible!” Dean breathed, “here, c’mon.” His hand shooting out to find yours, only to hit something else, (that was most definitely not a hand.)

A puff of air escaped your lips as you gasped, doubling over in pain “Dean, did you just punch me in the boob?”

“I swear I didn’t mean to. I was trying to grab on to your hand.”

“Well, you almost grabbed something else. You do that again and I’ll kill you.” Bringing your arm back, you threw a punch in the general direction of his arm, finally hitting your intending target for the first time that night as your knuckles connected with his bicep.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Can we just go get those lights you were talking about?”

“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea.” You nodded, sliding your hand down Dean arm and tangling his fingers with yours. A rush of heat went up your body and you were glad the lights were out so Dean couldn’t see the blush on your face.

What you didn’t know was that Dean was glancing down in the direction of your intertwined hands, suddenly surprised by your action but not daring to let go.

“Also, my room is in the other direction, Dumb ass. You’re the one who needs to work on their sense of direction.” You quipped, pulling Dean through the dark with ease as you navigated the corridors towards your room.

Dean ended up sitting on your bed patiently as you dig through the drawers of your desk, waiting in almost complete silence. Almost.

“Are you humming Metallica?” You mused, haphazardly discarding a pile of folders on the floor as you continued to search for the object you needed.

“. . . Yes. Don’t judge, I don’t really have anything else to do at the moment.”

“Aw, poor baby.” You teased, throwing another folder over your shoulder.

“Shut up. I was on the last five minutes of the movie when the power shut off. I’m a little bitter.”

“Oh, whatever shall you do Dean Winchester?”

Dean purses his lips, twiddling with his thumbs as he continued to wait, “Your obnoxious, you know that?”

“Yes, but you love me, so quit your whining.”

There was another thud from across the room before you let out laugh, finally producing what you had been looking for.

“Bingo!”

“You find something?”

There was a small series of cracks from where you knelt, and then your face was illuminated with a neon glow, giving off enough light to show Dean your proud grin.

“I thought you said you had flashlights.”

Crossing the room, you dumped a collection of glow sticks into Deans lap, giving him any array of colors.

“Yeah, well I lied. Plus, these are so much more fun.” You shrugged, pulling open the door to your closet as you went in search of the next item on your list.

“But why do you just have glow sticks lying around?” He questioned, flipping a bright pink one in his hand as he looked over at you.

“I was at the dollar store. It was a box of fifty. I couldn’t just walk away.”

“You’re so goddamn weird.”

Looking over your shoulder, you shot the older Winchester another grin, dragging an old cardboard box out from the depths of your closet.

“Watcha got there?”

“Well, seeing as we don’t know when the power will come back on, I thought we could do something to pass the time.” Throwing the box onto the bed, you snatched one of the glow sticks from Dean, flipping open the lid.

“Oh?”

You hummed a response as you tilted the box in Deans direction, allowing him to peer at the contents.

“Are. . . Are those nerf guns?” An amused smile taking up his face as he reached over to grab one of the harmless weapons.

“Yes. Yes they are. What do you say we have a nerf gun battle in the middle of a power outage?”

*. *. *. *. *.

“Why the hell are all the lights out?” Sam yelled, taking cautious steps down the bunkers stairs, quickly flicking on the flashlight on his phone as he and Eileen slowly entered the war room.

The power was never shut off like this in the bunker. Ever. There was always at least one light on, even when nobody was home.

“Guys?”

Suddenly there was a soft whistle as something shot past Sams ear, hitting the wall behind him with a light tap before landing on the floor almost silently.

“What the fu-“

“Sammy? That you?”

“Yeah Dean. Want to tell me what exactly is going on?” Sam questioned, walking across the war room towards the electrical box and flipping it open. There was a series of clicks and just like that, the power flickered back on, illuminating every inch of the bunker.

Dean stood at the bottom of the library step, a bright orange nerf gun clutched in his hand, and a couple of glow sticks tucked into his belt loops. Beyond that, the floor was littered with foam darts and even more of the neon glowing objects. It looked like some party enhanced battlefield.

“Dean, what the hell happened?” Sam spun, eyes taking in the state of the bunker.

The hunter opened his mouth to answer but was cut short when he saw you step out of the doorway behind Sam. Without hesitation the two of you were raising your weapons in unison, firing at each other. Quickly stepping out of the way, Sam and Eileen watched with surprised eyes.

Your aim was perfect as the dart whistled past the confused duo, hitting Deans forehead dead center. His was a little more off and you paid the price as his shot hit you in the throat, making you free hand fly up to your throat as you coughed, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh god, Y/N I’m so sorry.” Dean dropped his gun, taking quick steps towards you.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You waved him off, stooping down to pick up the dart, “but I did win.”

When you popped back up, your eyes widened along with Dean, finally getting a thorough look at each others face.

“Oh my god.” The two of you speaking again in unison. Dean had a small cut on his lower lip, along with a red welt just beneath his eye, no doubt from your hand when you accidentally hit him. As for you, you had a bruise across the bridge of your nose and a tiny cut on your chin indicting that he had slammed into you much harder than he originally thought.

“Did I do that? I’m so sorry, Dee.” You stepped forward, thumb lightly grazing over his busted lip. God, you were a hot mess, and Deans beautiful face had paid the price.

“Hey, hey it’s fine. I should be the one apologizing.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because I should have watched where I was going.” He smiled.

*. *. *. *. *.

Digging through the freezer in the kitchen, Dean produced a bag of frozen vegetables, wrapping it in on old dish towel before walking back over towards you. He still felt guilty for accidentally plowing into you earlier, and it made his insides churn.

“I could have gone and gotten ice myself.” You sighed, Dean sinking down in the seat next to you and pressing the bag softly to the bridge of your nose.

“I know. But it’s the least I could do. I did punch you in the boob earlier, and slammed into you . . Which I am sorry about by the way.”

“It’s okay. It happens.” You chuckled, moving to press your hand on top of Deans, holding the bag in place. There was a small stretch of sudden silence as the two of you got lost in thought, eyes softly locked on to one another.

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

“Me neither.”

Though your face was partially covered by a bag of frozen vegetables , Dean could see how bright your eyes were. You still looked so happy despite being slightly battered by him.

God, he felt like a little kid with a crush. This was so weird.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“why are looking at me like that?” You slowly questioned, lowering the bag of veggies from your face.

oh god, had he been staring again? Damn it.

“Oh, uh. . . You’re just really pretty that’s all.” He stuttered, suddenly fidgeting in his seat, the words practically falling out of his mouth. He couldn't contain them anymore.

That got you to fall silent. And you definitely couldn’t stop the scarlet tone your face was taking. Dean thought you were pretty? The Dean Winchester thought you were pretty?”

“I’m really not, but thanks?”

“But you are.” Dean spoke, eyes never wavering from you as he tilted his head. And then, a sudden as the light coming back on earlier, he was leaning forward and capturing your lips against his. It came out of nowhere and sucked all the breath from your lungs.

And You froze. You don’t mean to, but you froze, which only made Dean pull back, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

“Shut up.” You sighed, grabbing hold of the collar of his flannel and tugging him back to you and firmly planting your lips on his.

This time you kissed him. This time you were prepared. This time it was perfect.

“Are you trying to tell me you like me?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Yeah, I think I am.”

Sometimes it takes a few tries, but eventually what’s meant to happen always finds a way.

The End.

SPN Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox @horrorstreet @imabitch4jensen @minneapolis-harry

#dean imagine #dean x y/n #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #supernatural #bi-danvers0 #bi danvers writing #spn x y/n #spn x reader

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sourbat · 4 years

Text

He’s Just Tired

Words: 1780

Rating: T

Pairing: Toki Wartooth/Magnus Hammersmith

Summary: Toki arrives one afternoon to find Magnus on the couch, asleep.

Magnus mentioned a change in dosage a week before their scheduled date, and made another remark about “being out of it” five days later, but neither text scared Toki away from visiting. After several months of touch and go, he mastered the art of patience and reading the room, and made a note that they might have to change the plans for that day to something far simpler and homey.

It’s late in the afternoon when Toki arrives. Magnus doesn’t answer his phone, so Toki drops everything to locate the spare keys that are in the very bottom of the over-stuffed bag he’s carrying. He stows the keys into his pocket while grabbing his things, pushing the door open with his foot. He drops his duffle bag when he hears snoring, skin unsticking itself from hefty, worn fabric, and scampers into to the living room, where he finds Magnus half-asleep on the couch.

The scene, though oddly precious upon first glimpse, does pique Toki’s interest, and as he brings himself down, his eyes wander to the coffee table situated close by, and he checks for signs of depression, of unaccounted mania long since passed, or other troubling figments that often took the form of litter, filled ashtrays and empty bottles, half-consumed food, and the rare indent in the wall. But when he checks, he sees nothing more than a few receipts and a bottle of water, and even speculates that table has been recently cleaned.

Past interactions keep him on his toes, and Toki rests on his knees, bringing a finger over to rearrange some silvery strands that obscured Magnus’ face. He tries lifting a few, watching in mild amusement when the light hits Magnus’ good eyes, causing his face to harden and stir, and for the older man to twist and raise a hand to block the light. Though he worries about the consequences, he catches Magnus’ hand in his, letting his fingers intertwine with the older man’s while Magnus stirs himself awake. Toki observes each knuckle, relived there’s no fresh cuts or bruising, and pushes his lips against each one before Magnus grunt a complaint.

Magnus scowls when he opens his eyes. “What time–?”

“You okays?” Toki asks instinctually, figuring there must be something. The texts from before make him want to jump to conclusions, blame the pills for putting him out, but he waits for Magnus to give his side.

Magnus squints, picking out Toki’s silhouette against the blinding light, then groan. “M’tired,” he murmurs, earning a soft noise from Toki, who dips down, blocking that troublesome light, and kisses him gently on the forehead. The act lulls Magnus from whatever haze he’s in, and he extends his hands out, tracing the shape of Toki’s jawline and trying to persuade it with a ticklish drag to bring attention southward.

“When did you get here?” Magnus half-asks, half-yawns.

“Just nows,” Toki answers. He watches Magnus stretch underneath him, spots his ribs ripping under his skin, and hears the soft pop of a few cramped joints. Toki thinks about the texts again, and he wonders if this is merely a case of Magnus’ brain restarting, readjusting to the decrease or increase of medication. He casually asks, “You needs to goes to bed?”

Magnus shakes his head at the idea, brings his hands down on the furniture, and begins dragging himself up. “You just got here.”

It was a mistake to turn it into a question. Toki doesn’t give Magnus much of a choice once he’s up. “C’mons,” he says, guiding the man further, letting Magnus put some of his weight on top of him to make the travel to the bedroom easier.

Halfway into the hallways, Magnus says, “I’m not that tired, bud.”

“Then rests just an hours.”

“And what will you do?”

Toki sends him a delicate smile. “Always somethings for me to do whens you ams out.”

The bedroom’s not as messy as Toki remembers it. There are jeans piled on a chair, a mirror resting precariously in the middle of the floor, and the small bin piled up with plastic bags, napkins and cigarettes, but the room is greater shape than the last time Toki visited. The blinds are aligned, black tapestry lifted and allowing some light into the room, and the only aroma Toki detects are warm spices of dragon’s blood intermixed wonderfully with tobacco and Magnus’ natural scent.

Magnus picks up on this and becomes grabby. As soon as he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, he snatches Toki, resting his heavy head against the young man’s chest. There’s a tired embrace, Toki dropping his head to breath in the clean smell of Magnus’ hair, a low sigh and a second where Toki almost contemplates joining him. A hand slips under Toki’s shirt. Cool fingertips rest on the base of his spine, then began traveling up and leaving behind desire’s strong impression, a call for intimacy before the exhaustion really begins to settle. It’s a tempting offer, one Toki is thankful he’s able decline.

Toki frees himself from Magnus, then drops his eyes down to the man’s wrinkled jeans. It’s one thing for them to pass out drunk, still-clothed, another when rest and wellness was a priority, so Toki takes it upon himself in trying to undo the bad habit.

“Takes off your pants.”

Thinking he’s won, Magnus manages an adoring grin. “That a ‘yes’, or…?”

“Laters.” Toki dips forward, meeting with Magnus and welcoming the sharp contours of his face, the scratchiness of his stubble as their lips brushed over the other’s. Toki stops himself from getting lost, pushes Magnus deeper onto the bed. “We’ll haves more funs when you ams fully wakes.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll show you–”

“Magnus,” Toki playfully warned. There’s a slight smile in his eyes, but the message is clear, and Magnus sighs out some words before kicking off his pants, briefly exposing himself and throwing one last look towards Toki before reaching for the comforter.

Toki picks up the pants and tosses them inside of the closet. He reaches for other articles, not everyone, just those that look a little too dingy, too over-worn and used. That’s only two pairs of pants and a single shirt, none of which are so bad that Toki minds. He searches for some clean undergarments, but the sounds of Magnus murmuring something into the pillow stops him. When Toki checks, he sees Magnus already dozing off, eyes heavily lidded, and barely able to catch up with his movement.

He returns to the bed, watching Magnus’ good eye try and fail to effectively chase after him before fluttering and coming to a slow close. There’s nothing quite like Magnus falling asleep on his own, and Toki takes a minute to admire and memorize the instant Magnus slips away, and waits an additional before attempting to readjust the covers. He lifts the top, catches a glimpse of Magnus’ bare chest and waist, and is about to pull the covers when he notices his ribcage looking far less prominent. He’s still lean, but there’s less bones standing out, and when Toki covers Magnus, sees that his shoulders are starting to round off more.

Toki refrains from petting, kissing, or any other contact that might risk disturbing Magnus, so he tip-toes out and closes the door behind him.

The first thing Toki does is slip out from his boots, taking them with him into the living room before dropping them near the door. Once it’s done, he heads to the kitchen and opens the fridge. Surprisingly no rotten food, save for some wilted vegetables tucked in the far recess of the fridge. Contents were well-stocked, and although there was still a few boxed leftovers, Toki didn’t see aside from lettuce that desperately needed to be tossed. The rest of the kitchen further drives it home: Toki sees that the dishes were already washed and drying, and only needed to be put away, and that the floor didn’t have any stains or too many scuff marks, and the trash had been taken out before his arrival.

He returns to the living room which is, upon second glance, looking better than he imagined. The floor is clean. There’s no real need to sweep or vacuum. He wonders if Magnus has been keeping the windows open, because he realizes that the air only smells a little of stale cigarettes, and that’s all. He thinks about the bedroom, turns and realizes that all windows, no matter the size, all adjusted to let some light in. Not a whole lot, but enough. Enough to make the rooms a little brighter, more spacious and lived-in. Warm. Welcoming.

Toki double-backs to the kitchen. He stops at the fridge and doesn’t see any bills or late notices hanging on any of the magnets he bought. He walks over to the counter, sees a small pile of ripped up junk mail that needs to be tossed, but no notes, tickets, threats or other written warnings from the landlord, officer or neighbors.

The bathroom looks good, too. The shower could use a little work, but even Toki had to admit that bathroom chores suck the most. The mirror is clean, reflecting Toki back at himself without a single blemish, and the wasn’t a single sign of any mishaps: nothing sharp, no needles, or any signs of blood.

It’s all gone, Toki realizes. Or most of it. Maybe just some. Whatever the amount, Toki’s grateful, and he has to hold his breath and stop himself from getting too emotional, from making too much noise and waking Magnus up.

Toki reenters the hallway, spots the closed door, and deliberates going straight back in, taking Magnus as he was and crushing their lips together, whispering suggestive ideas while also telling him how proud he is of him, how nice everything looks, and how much he loves him, but Toki stops himself because he knows how tired and irritable those meds can make him the first few weeks, and he already made such a big deal about Magnus getting his rest. But for the first time ever, there’s nothing for him to clean up, nothing that needed fixing, no excuses or anything. No bills. Nothing broken. No servant with a list of concerns. There’s just a warm, lazy afternoon, and not nearly enough distractions to keep Toki entertained on his own for an hour, maybe longer. It’s a beautiful thing, and it also sucks balls, but Toki takes it for what it is, and he whips out his half-charged phone, drops on top of the sofa, reclining into the warm light of the sun, and starts texting.

#fanfic #metalocalypse #toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #fanfiction #unbeta'd

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somevestrit · 4 years

Text

Currently losing my mind

So I live in this really old really not well kept up with duplex that’s got a lot of issues. Some are aesthetic like shoddy paint jobs, tons of wholes in the walls from the last tenant hanging stuff and neither them nor my landlord filling them in, bits of the popcorn ceiling in my bathroom and bedroom (it’s a one bedroom duplex) have fallen off (sometimes falling on me while I’m in bed asleep). But then other stuff way more important is at issue, like how there’s a leak that causes water to collect in the vent above my bed which causes that one (1) of three (3) patches to falll, the fact that I have two broken windows that don’t lock (one of which is large enough and low enough to the ground someone can easily climb in through the outside if they knew it was broken. I have done so a couple of times), also also the lock on my front door is broken so for about a year it didn’t lock and I had to rely entirely on the glass screen door for protection (I have since had a friend over who broke it in a different way so that it now just doesn’t open, which is annoying but more safe).

When I told my landlord about the door and the windows as they were more obvious danger issues, and the water damage at the time wasn’t nearly as bad, she told me she’d have to think about what to do. A week later she told me she was selling the house. I stayed during the selling of the house because the place was so run down there was no way my rent would go up that much, and I hoped whoever bought it would fix the obvious issues.

The person who bought it did not do an inspection and was very surprised and upset when I asked her if she was going to be fixing the broken door and window if I stayed. She said there was no way for her to start making a profit if she fixed them so she wouldn’t.

I started looking for somewhere safer to live, but pre-COVID rent was stupid high every where around me. I make well over minimum wage here, and I didn’t have any student loans and just paid basic bills and insurance, but even with that I couldn’t get approved for an apartment in an area that was run down or dangerous. And I desperately wanted a place that wasn’t falling apart around me at this point.

I went back to my landlord to ask if I could stay for now while I figured out my finances so I could afford to move out. At first she said it was fine, but after coming in for an inspection of some kind, she “found out” I had a cat and that they didn’t allow animals in their rentals. The first thing you see when you walk in through the side door is a huge litter box (I have two cats and my litter box comes with a lid I always put on when people are coming over so they don’t have to see anything going on in there). She had visited the house before she bought it. She knew I had at least one cat. She also knew I had been living there for about two years before she bought it so at this point if there was going to be any damage done from the cats, it was already done. So I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why she was suddenly bringing it up and telling me I had to get out.

Knowing it was legal for her to do this, I started desperately trying to figure something out. I was looking for rental houses in lower income areas and I had applied for an apartment at a place I had lived at before and the building was fairly new and fairly cheap, but places were going fast and there was a wait list. I told her I was waiting on the apartment, but a couple of months went by, including the projected date they’d have a space open for me, and I still didn’t have an apartment.

My landlord was ok with waiting at first, but then she had someone lined up to come in after me. There was one month where she was telling me I was selfish and putting everyone in a bad spot because I hadn’t moved out yet, that I was inconveniencing people. My last landlord (someone I used to be close to) had told this woman that I barely made any money, that I just didn’t have a lot saved up. My current landlord thought I was poor, but was trying to kick me out.

But wait, it gets worse.

Towards the end of that month I am half packed, getting ready to move into my friend’s place while I waited for an apartment to come available for me to move into or to find somewhere else because it was becoming obvious she wouldn’t let me stay another month even if I had nowhere to go. Towards the end of the month, however, she told me the people who were going to move in after me no longer needed the place, and I was welcome to stay if I wanted to.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but figured I should take her up on her offer because the rent would still be much cheaper at my current place and I could work on getting a better paying job in the mean time. She still refused the fix anything and was raising my rent $200, well more than the place was worth, but I didn’t have much better options.

For this some context on this next part, my neighbors on the other side of my duplex, who are some of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, one of them actually works at the store owned and run by the new landlord. So, sometimes when I’d pass them in the driveway or something I’d hear bits of information from them that my landlord hadn’t bothered to tell me.

Like how when it looked like I was moving out, my landlord had apparently told my neighbor that she was planning on replacing all of the windows and some of the doors. I was pissed, but at the time thought I’d be moving out soon so decided not to let it bother me too much.

Then, after we started working through me actually staying and her working on sending me a lease to sign for a year, there was a night when I was talking to my neighbors. I had the front door open as at this point my friend hadn’t rebroken it to never open, and my neighbors could see inside my house to the mess of packing I had done and had yet to undo because I wasn’t sure if my landlord was going to change her mind or not. My neighbors asked how the unpacking was going and told them that I hadn’t started yet because I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to get to stay. My neighbor waved her hand and said “Oh, her daughter bought a house so they don’t need it anymore.”

They told me about how my landlord’s daughter and her family were moving back to the area and needed a place to crash while they looked for a house to buy, and my landlord was planning on letting them use my place.

Based on that, apparently the only problem was that I was already here and wanting to stay, but the good news was that I didn’t have a lease so they could kick me out whenever they wanted to, all they needed was an excuse and having a pet worked. The could force me out so they didn’t have to share a house anymore.

This landlord thought that I was poor.

Livid, but feeling a bit more secure with a lease now and, again, not really having any better options I stayed. I stayed for a year and they came and looked at the water damage once but fixed nothing. Not the water damage, which the ceiling still gets wet every time it rains, not the windows, not the front door. Nothing.

Knowing I didn’t want to stay another year, I decided I was going to use my savings and buy a house. I had inherited quite a bit of money recently and decided I wasn’t going to deal with landlords anymore, that I was going to live somewhere where I knew if something was broken and was dangerous to me, it would get fixed. I let my landlord know that I would not be renewing the lease. She was fine with that. A few minutes later, she asked if she could send someone in a few days to measure some windows and doors.

The moment I told this woman I was leaving, she decided to fix the things that were putting my life in danger. The thing she refused to fix because “she wouldn’t make a profit off the house” if she did.

I don’t know how else to interpret that other than a big “fuck you” for not getting out of my home when she wanted me to because her daughter’s family needed a place to crash for a month while they bought a house. I don’t know how else to take this except punishment. My friend said she probably knew she couldn’t rent the place out again with it being the way it is. I don’t know how long she would have waited to fix anything, if she ever would have gotten around to it, if I resigned the lease.

Fuck. Landlords.

FUCK. LANDLORDS.

I am lucky that I had friends who were willing and able to take me in when it looked like I was about to be kicked out. I am lucky (in a way) that I happened to inherit enough money to help me get out of this situation. I’m so inexplicably angry over what she did to me, but I also can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if I didn’t have any of those fall backs, if I was as poor as she thought I was.

I repeat: FUCK LANDLORDS

#rent #landlords #landlord #disgusting #eat the rich #classism #unjust #fuck landlords

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sope-and-shine · 5 years

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Christmas Special: Day 25

-> BT21 X Reader(ft. OT7) -> BT21!AU -> Word Count: 5k -> Summary: Spending Christmas alone wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but Christmas with 7...somethings was not what you had in mind. -> Warning(s): Mild Language

A/N: Did not edit

After weeks on end of no rest and constant work, the boys are finally on their way home from their busy schedules. They’ll be able to go home and see their families this year, and it was a well deserved treat after everything they’ve done this year. So much work, and they’re about to reap they’re last reward.

Jimin yawns, stretching in his seat of the car next to Jin, “I am ready to get some sleep.”

“Yoongi is 10 steps ahead of you.” Hoseok laughs, casting a side glance to the man next to him passed out against the glass.

Jeongguk sighs, “I’m just excited for all the food my mom is going to make.”

The car pulls up to their apartment and they all pile out, some trying to wake up from their nap, others thanking their driver for getting them home safely, and then walking up to their apartment for a good night's sleep. They’ve all had long days, so seeing their front door is like a dream come true to end their night. Taehyung, in a burst of energy, runs ahead of his brothers to throw the door open.

“TaTa!” He cries, shoving his shoes off of his feet in a hurry and running down the hall to find his cuddly alien. The heart shaped creature pops his head out of the kitchen, a small smile appearing when he sees the very excited human. His small arms grow longer and start to wiggle in want as he waddles to give the tall boy a hug.

The others join the two in the hal, Namjoon being the last to close the door. Taehyung has his alien friend in his arms and their cheeks pressed together, “I have so much energy now that we’re home.”

“Are the others awake?” Hoseok asks. He takes a few steps towards Taehyung and TaTa before he spots Mang sitting peacefully on the couch on top of a sleeping Koya. He shrieks, “Mangie!”

RJ pops his head out of the kitchen just like TaTa had done, his bandana covered by Jin’s frilly pink apron. On the top of his head, Shooky sits nestled in his fur enjoying how high up he his. However, when the small Cookie catches sight of the stone-faced man staring at him, he jumps and tries to flee.

“Hey! Don’t be an asshole, get back here!” Yoongi chases after his friend, quickly catching the small trouble maker in his hands before he gets too far. Lifting him up to face level, the angry cookie decides to let it be and hop on the man’s shoulder out of reluctance. Yoongi nods, “That’s what I thought.”

The others greet their friends as well, taking seats in the living room to watch the boxing match Cooky had turned on while they were gone. Namjoon’s moved Koya from his spot on the couch to rest on him instead, fixing his ears when they fall to the couch.

“Are you guys excited for Christmas next week?” Jimin asks, playing with the floppy ears on Chimmy’s hoodie while he not-so-quietly plays the harmonica on his lap .

Cooky pauses his play boxing with Jeongguk to raise a fist in excitement. He - just like the others who had given their response - were very ready to spend their holiday with the boys. After being away so long on tour, they were happy to finally spend time together again.

“I - for one - am overjoyed to have a break.” Yoongi sighs, moving Shooky from his head - where he’d climbed just to annoy the other - back to his chest, holding him there with a firm hand despite his protests to be let go.

“What are you guys going to do with your time?” Taehyung asks, popping his head over the top of TaTa’s larger one.

“My brother wants to go ice fishing, so I was thinking about going with him.” Jin says, taking a sip from the tea RJ had made.

“Why ice fishing?” Hoseok asks. He tilts his head at his older friend, and Mang - the loveable, copycat he is - does the same.

Jin shrugs, “No clue. But how bad could it be?”

“Cold? No one around? The possibility of no fish at all?” Yoongi lists off all the possible things that could be wrong with ice fishing, snorting when they all are indeed terrible, “You’re right, nothing terrible at all.”

“I’m going to take Tannie out to get new toys.” Taehyung says, changing the subject.

Hoseok nods in approval, adding in his own plans, “I was thinking of taking my mom and sister shopping.”

“My mom wants to go ice skating.” Namjoon adds.

The boys continue talking, and sharing their holiday plans, but the friends around them begin to realize that they had not been mentioned in any of them. Chimmy - arguably the cutest - turns to Jimin - easily the most gullible member - and tilts his head in confusion.

“What’s wrong, ChimChim?” Jimin asks, pulling the little bean closer to him.

“They wish to know if they will be joining the festivities of the holiday as well.” VAN speaks up. The men in the room jump in surprise, Joon accidentally dropping one of Koya’s ears in the process. They all turn to the robot in the corner of the room, not exactly sure when it arrived. “Will they also be joining you on your vacations.”

“It’s best if all of you stay here in the house.” Namjoon sighs, he expected this. Part of him knew they’d want to join them as well, and he could understand why. But the outside world was no place for them.

“The people outside won’t like you guys.” Jeongguk says. He didn’t mean it maliciously, or in anyway to hurt them. But it’s when he sees Chimmy and Mang frozen in horror that he realizes he should have phrased his words better.

Shooky makes a sound of displeasure from where he sits on Yoongi before sliding off of the man and storming off to another area of the house. Yoongi sits up to look after him, “Shooky!”

Chimmy and Mang follow after, running in zig-zags so they won’t be caught by their friends. Jimin sighs, “Chimmy! He didn’t mean it like that!”

“Mang!”

Soon, the rest of the little friends they shared an apartment with had toddled off after the others, even Koya after sliding off of Namjoon’s lap from his slumber and taking his ears with him. The men left in the room sigh together, turning to the youngest with looks of disappointment.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Jeongguk defends, shying away from the glares he’s getting. The other’s shake their heads in disappointment. They’d have to find some way to make it up to the little guys after the holiday was over.

----

Halfway across the world, in a small 1 bedroom apartment outside of the city, you sit on your balcony enjoying the chilly night air. Unlike most of your friends and the rest of your family, you were still stuck all by yourself for the holiday. You have work to do, people to please day in and day out. Unfortunately for you, there was no time for you to go home and see your family this year. Then again, it wasn’t like they really wanted to see you anyway. Your dad made sure to tell you that when he talked to you over the phone about you visiting.

He called to ask if you were coming to see them for the holiday, and when you told him that you wouldn’t be able to make it, he was furious. He treated you like you weren’t a grown adult paying for your own apartment and living on your own taking care of yourself. He seemed to always have something to say that just burst your bubble when you felt you were succeeding as an adult.

That’s what brought you out here to enjoy the peace and quiet of the night.

“He just doesn’t get it…” You mutter to yourself. You look towards the sky where you can make out some of the stars if you squint hard enough. “What is his problem?”

Unbeknownst to you, you have a quiet listener above. Van, having been upset for their friends, had taken off to find someone also in need of friendship for the holiday. He’d searched far and wide, but none that truthfully needed someone. You were Van’s fifth distress call that he heard, so he came to see what you were in need of.

“I just want to show that I’m good enough…Why can’t he see that?” You ask to no one, not having any clue to your silent watcher. You wipe a stray tear and pull your knees to your chest. “He’s the reason I don’t even want to go home. I just want some love”

Love? Van knew where love was. His friends had plenty of love to give! His friends could help you easily.

Your phone rings, and your quick to compose yourself to answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey, are you coming to spend Christmas with me?” Your friend asks, checking in on her offer from the other week. You had been talking to her about what was going on in your life and she was quick to offer you a place to go, but you didn’t want to make anyone else suffer with you.

“Ah...no...I have a lot of work to do…Maybe another time.” You offer.

She sighs, “Are you sure? I have the room!”

“No! I’m sure…” You assure her, wiping another tear that falls from her eye.

“Okay...Have a great holiday!” She cheers.

“You too.” You say halfheartedly, hanging up sometime after. You stare at your phone in sadness, “You wouldn’t want me around anyway.”

Van’s eyes flash a blue, sadness taking over his senses. He can feel your pain and the need for love. He has no doubt in his AI brain that you need love, and he knows just the people for the job.

He flies off, not seeing the way you slump over and let more tears fall from your eyes.

---

After your crying session was finished, you had returned to your room to release the rest of your dignity in the safety of your sheets -Your neighbors probably enjoyed your crying too much anyways. But now, waking up to the morning light you feel refreshed and not as moody as when you fell asleep. You’re so relaxed, you almost don’t even notice the loud crash that comes from your kitchen.

Almost.

You sigh, annoyed that your cat - Mr. Whiskey - was probably in the kitchen looking for food and knocking over your pots and pans again. You throw off your blankets and leave your room to scold the animal in question, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see creatures you’d never seen before littering your apartment. In front of you is a dog(?) holding the vase your best friend gave you as a housewarming gift, where the vase sat sits what looks to be a cookie waving its arms around. Your coffee table has a koala sleeping on it, an alpaca with a bandana around its neck drinking a bottle of tea you had stocked in your fridge. Running around your coffee table is a blue and purple horse with a pink bunny chasing behind it. And standing next to your window, is a blue, yellow polka-dotted, heart head something trying to pick up the glass. You’re unsure of how to feel, but your body has no problem reacting for you as you drop to the ground.

The rowdy creatures making a mess in your living room stop what they’re doing, turning their attention to where you lay passed out on the floor. They stare at your limp body in confusion, wondering when you had woken up. You were asleep when they got there, but they must have woken you up.

Well, they can’t just leave you there.

A few hours later, you wake up to something wet on your right hand and a weight pressing down on you. Opening your eyes slowly, you make out what looks to be the koala snoring away on top of you. In between the both of you is a blanket you kept laying over the top of the couch for your movie nights, keeping you warm.

“That wasn’t a dream…?” You ask yourself. You look to your right and see a small bowl of water placed beside you, your hand having been placed inside the bowl. You pull your hand out and sigh, thankful that the stuid trick hadn’t actually worked on you. You look around your living room and finally take notice of the creature you thought you’d dreamt alive, sitting around looking at you. You sit up fast.

“What the-Sorry.” In your haste to sit up and get a better look at the things before you, the koala on top of you fell off of you and onto the floor below. Feeling guilty for practically throwing the poor thing, you reach down to help him back up. But your thrown completely off guard when you see that his ears have fallen right off of his head. You scream, “Oh my god! What the hell is going on?!”

The blue, yellow, and red one looks to you and begins trying to explain what’s happening, but everything he says seems to be in another language that you have no knowledge of. It’s enough to spur even more shock out of you.

You shake your head trying to gain some of your sanity back, “What are you saying? What are you guys?!”

Next to her, the Alpaca with the bandana begins walking to you with your phone in his hand. He has a sweet smile - he shouldn’t have a smile at all, but that’s not important at the moment - but the fact that he’s been using your phone is concerning.

“How did you get into my phone?!” You ask accusingly. First they break into your home, break your things, and now they’re using your phone?! You’re absolutely livid until the alpaca before you turns the phone off and grabs your hand to use the thumbprint. He gives you a smile before returning to what he was doing in the first place, and you’re suddenly left feeling sorry for yelling.

“Oh…” Is all that you say. You wait and watch what he -or she - continues searching until they’ve found what they’re looking for. So, when he turns and shows you a video of them with a group of real people, you grow a little softer. You can’t help but wonder, ‘Are they lost?’ Korea is a long way to travel, and your knowledge of Korean is limited to the small phrases your college roommate had taught you.

“Would you understand me better in Korean?” You ask, iffy on your pronunciation. Thankfully, the dog shakes his head slowly, his floppy ears twisting around his head until they fall back to his side where they had started. You nod in understanding, but it does little to calm your nerves. “Why are you here? How did you all get here? Will you get off of that?!”

In the corner of your eye, you’d kept seeing the pink bunny moving around. But it was the last straw when he began hanging off of your potted plant by your balcony door like it was a swing. His ears droop and his happy grin turns into a disappointed pout as he hops down. The horse hops down from your loveseat and waddles over to the slightly open window to point out the window you keep open just enough for Mr. Whiskey.

You shake your head in disappointment. You knew this situation would come to light sooner or later, but this exact situation wasn’t what you were expecting, Either way, these...things couldn’t stay. “You all need to go home.”

Around the room, there seems to be an unspoken sadness that each one of them holds, enough to let you know that they aren’t lost at all. These poor little things left their friends because they wanted to...

“Why don’t you want to go home? They’re you’re friends, right?” You ask. It wasn’t as if they could answer your questions in depth, but it was worth a shot to gain an understanding.

The alpaca takes your phone again, asking for your thumbprint so he can get into it again. He types away, taking his time so he can do everything correctly. You’re surprised when your phone speaks the words he wants to say, “Friends don’t want us for Christmas.”

It was sad, but you knew how that felt to an extent. But if they were anything like you, it was them that didn’t want to be with friends for the holiday. You sugh, “I doubt that’s true.”

The small cookie that you thought you’d definitely dreamt up climbs up the alpaca and takes the phone right out of his hands. It’s almost unreal when he begins typing, and you’re even more shocked at what plays from your phone. “Friends abandoned us because they don’t like us and we’re not cool to be around and they’re embarrassed of us those apples. apples. apples. Apples.”

“Well, you need to go back whether you want to or not! They’re your friends, and they’re going to be worried about you. They love you…” You say, trying to explain the importance of them going home. Sure they may not feel welcome, but that doesn’t mean they should just...not...go.

Yeah, maybe you all were more alike than you thought.

“My friends are looking for a friend to spend the holiday with.” A voice speaks up. You look up just in time to see another creature - half grey and white, round head, and ‘x’ and ‘o’ for eyes - smash the rest of your window and enter on its own. Being your second surprise of the day, you do the next logical thing.

You pass out again.

----

Back home - in Korea - the boys are waking up to begin parting ways. Jimin and Jeongguk were the first two to wake up as they needed to travel all the way to Busan for Christmas. All is the same, nothing unusual compared to what they’re used to. Then again...nothing unusual was completely unusual itself. Normally, Shooky or Kooky would be making a fuss in the kitchen by now with RJ making something to eat while ignoring them.

“Have you seen Cookie?” Jeongguk asks, poking a hole in the banana milk he took from the fridge.

Jimin shakes his head, taking a bite out of the toast he made, “He wasn’t sleeping with you last night?”

“No, I thought he was upset with me.” The younger explains. He sighs, remembering how uset the bunny was yesterday. He hoped by now that he wouldn’t be upset anymore, but it looked like he was still not happy with him by any means.

Jimin shrugs, taking another bite of his breakfast, “Chimmy didn’t want to sleep with me either.”

“Don’t you want to say goodbye though?” Jeongguk asks.

“Yeah, but we can’t force them to talk to us if they’re unhappy.” Jimin stands up from his chair and puts his plate in the sink. Passing Jeongguk, he places a hand on his shoulder, “They’ll be fine in a few days. As soon as we get back from vacation.”

“Yeah, okay.”

----

After waking up for a third time, you’ve calmed down quite a bit. Now, the only thing you’re worried about is getting these rowdy creatures out of your home and back to their own. You sat on your couch scrolling through plane tickets trying to find the cheapest one possible to Korea. Van and the others had already tried to help you fly back the way they had flown to you, but you vetoed that idea before you got dropped.

Now, it was just a matter of time before you’d have to figure out how to get these boys back to their boys. The first step is the plane ticket, but the second step is finding where exactly these boys lived. Why you had to go made no sense at all, but these little nuisances wouldn’t let you out of it or they’d stay - how they threatened you using your phone.

The whole notion was absurd to you, buying a plane ticket just to return 7 - or 8 - rowdy little creatures that you weren’t really sure were what you thought they were back to South Korea where they live with the most popular boy band in the world. They were only guarded by high end security, and they were only followed by millions of women everywhere.

Not a problem at all.

Now, sitting in your seat next to RJ and Chimmy - who are dressed up in a trench coat pretending to be human - while the others are hidden in your carry ons or on the strange duo next to you, you try to relax while you wait to land. This was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, and there was no way this would actually work. There couldn’t be any possible way for this to work.

But it had to.

-----

The door to the dorms slams shut, alerting the boys who didn’t have the chance to leave yet that Jimin had returned. He was already in Busan by the time Namjoon called him to tell him the news and he was pissed to know his plans had been changed for him.

“Well, ‘hello’ to you too.” Yoongi teases, getting comfortable in his seat before they would have to leave.

“Don’t talk to me right now.” Jimin glares at him, taking a seat on the couch opposite from him.

Namjoon sighs, “Look, I know this is inconvenient bu-”

“Inconvenient? I only told my whole family I’d be home this year.” Hoseok laughs, slightly pissed himself.

“It’s just one performance.” Namjoon sighs.

“One performance that we have four days to prepare for and no heads up that we shouldn’t tell our families to expect us for the holiday.” Yoongi argues.

“Guys, please…” The leader begs.

Jeongguk sighs, “Namjoon, there is no way you are not upset about this.”

“I’m upset too, but what more can we do?” He asks.

“Fight! Yell! Argue!” Jimin says.

“Then why haven’t you?” Namjoon asks in retaliation. Jimin looks at him with the last bit of rage he has left before downcasting his eyes. “Exactly…”

“Have you guys seen TaTa?” Taehyung asks, changing the subject.

Jin sighs, rubbing his face with his hands, “I haven’t seen any of them since Guk scared them off.”

----

“I swear to God, little horse man, come out of that bathroom right now!” You yell, banging on the bathroom door. You’d gotten off your plane about an hour ago and grabbed an uber, keeping the boys hidden. But as much as you wanted to get them home, you also wanted to sleep. Now, you were banging on the bathroom door of your hotel trying to get the little rascal to come out. “I have to pee!”

The others were doing their own things: The cookie, the bunny, and the alpaca watching TV on the floor, the heart dude was drawing on the notepads the hotel had, the koala was sleeping on the couch, and the dog was jumping up and down on your bed instead of his own that most of them would be sharing. You just wanted to pee, was that too much to ask? You wanted to spend Christmas in your own bed with no one else - Well, not really, but they didn’t know that - but no one seemed to get that.

The bathroom door opens and the little horse comes waddling out with toilet paper on his foot, adjusting his apparent mask that you had no idea he had.

Yeah, you just needed to pee and get some rest at this point.

----

Despite the inconvenience of having to go in and learn a new performance in time for Christmas, it was still a relief to be able to come home to their own beds. Despite the rough hours of rehearsal and the want to be with family again, it was nice to be with friends they could all consider family.

Only, they were missing pieces of their little family.

“When are they going to come back?” Taehyung asks, cuddling further into Jimin.

The older boy sighs deeply, “I don’t know.”

“I’m getting worried.” Hoseok admits, pausing his scrolling on his phone.

“What if they never come back?” Jeongguk asks, mindlessly playing with the pillow on his lap.

Namjoon sighs, “They will. We just have to be patient.”

“I just miss them so much.” Taehyung whines.

“Isn’t there a way to make this go faster?” Jin asks.

----

“Can we go any faster?” You ask the uber driver while your stuck in traffic. According to your GPS, the address the alpaca put in for you was only a few blocks away, but this traffic was putting you an hour behind.

The man sighs, this being the 3rd time you’ve asked him, “Ma’am, I’m stuck in traffic.”

Your leg starts bouncing, becoming inpatient the longer you sit here. You’re too close to just be sitting here. You shake your head and grab the door handle, “We’ll get out here.” You and the boys exit the car and start your journey to the Hanam Hills Estate, trying your best to get there before the snow comes down. You push through even when Shooky and Koya crawl onto your back to sleep peacefully while the rest of you trek further and further. It’s only when you get to the security gate do you realize that is an impossible mission.

You stop before the box, already knowing this was a dead end, “How am I supposed to get in there?! There’s no way they’re going to let me in there when I’m not-” You pause your rant when you see the bunny bumping fists with the security guard, as well as the alien and the dog. He lets them pass and the others follow. So you, with the other two on your back, nod to the guard as you pass.

“I’m with them…” You nod, using the best Korean you can as you pass. You follow behind blindly, thanking yourself for wearing boots and not sneakers as you pass every unknown celebrity home with strange creatures that apparently know people well. And then you come to a tall building where the others have stopped, waiting for you to catch up.

“Is this really it?” You ask, staring ahead at the building above you. The boys push forward towards the door and you follow, climbing up two flights of stairs before you make it to another door. Your heart boy extends his limbs - another skill you didn’t know he had - and he rings the doorbell three times before returning to his form.

This was it.

They were home.

They didn’t need you anymore.

“Well, I got you boys back so I’ll just be going.” You say, ready to get out of there when the alien himself grabs onto you and holds you in place. You squirm in his hold, “Hey, let me go, you crazy alien!”

“Hello?” The door opens and your met with a tall man sporting shorts and a white, mario graphic tee. His confusion turns to happiness when he realizes just who is in front of him. He immediately runs to your alpaca friend, “You’re home!”

You hear other voices from behind him in the home. “They’re back?”

“Chimmy!”

“Mang!”

The group that you had seen your boys with appears right in front of your eyes, each one smiling wide at the sight of their friends coming home. To think that they thought they were embarrassed by them. They looked like they were in love with them.

One of them looks directly at your little alien, and then looks to you attached to him. Him nod, “Hey.”

“This is (Y/n).” You scream at the sudden intrusion of the robot, holding on tight to the creature that just won’t let you go. You weren’t used to this. How could anyone get used to this? “She was lonely and needed our friends like they needed her.”

“Thank you for ratting me out to strangers.” You say, annoyed with the damn piece of technology. Looking to the men at the door looking back at you, you shrug, “So, maybe their presence wasn’t terrible, but I had to get them home where they belong...with you guys.”

The man in front of you smiles a boxy smile, throwing his arms open and pulling you into a hug similar to the one you’re already in. Only this one pulls you back and forth against your will.

“Taehyung, you’ll make her sick!” A voice calls.

“Hyung, you shouldn’t shake her that much.” Another scolds.

You sigh when the man stops shaking you, “Yeah, I should really get going anyways.”

“But you came all this way, you can’t just leave.” He argues. The alien around your neck nods and he laughs, “See? TaTa even wants you to stay.”

“TaTa? So, that’s your name, you little rascal.” You tease, shaking the creature attached to your hip. You smile, “It’s cute.”

TaTa smiles at you, only then deciding to slide off of you and join his friends who are already going inside to their home. The boys that they left, however, remain. The one that couldn’t keep his hands to himself smiles at you, “They really don’t want you to leave.”

You shake your head, “I don’t belong here, though.”

“Says who?” Another boy asks. He throws you a smile, and you see a peak of his dimples. “You should at least spend Christmas with someone.”

You don’t know what made you do it, the smiles, the pleas, or the rowdy little things at the door giving you puppy dog eyes, but you did it.

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95liners3rdmember · 5 years

Text

Worth It

Chapter Two: Saying Thank You

Word Count: 9632

Chapter One: First Meeting

Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I have to do a double take of the group standing in front of me. I try to fight my facial expression but I can’t help but squint my eyes and the raising of my brow. The last thing I expected was an impromptu pajama party.

“Ummm...you all didn’t have to come.” My voice croaks out as I lead the way into the apartment. Even though I know the apartment is as clean as it ever will be before I unpack, I nervously scan for a mess. I can’t help the boxes that litter the building for now though.

“We figured eight is better than one, but we have to be quick or Jungkookie over here will be lost to video games.” Namjoon jokes as they make themselves at home, the bag Hoseok carried now is being emptied on the island. Soda and snacks. So I guess we really are having a party.

“Thank you, again.” Now I feel guilty because I know they are all tired. But they are willingly coming to help me, a still somewhat stranger.

“So where do you want to start?” Seokjin asks as he rolls up the sleeves of his RJ pajamas.

I haven’t even gotten that far, I guess the easiest for them to do is the living room. It’s mainly gaming consoles, movies and pictures. That way they can entertain themselves while I unpack my office.

“How about in here? All I have are games, movies and electronics. Could you do that while I went in my office? There’s a lot more to tackle in there.” My sisters would smack me for asking. I want to smack myself too but they seem more than happy to help.

“No problem!”

I walk down the small hallway to the box filled office and a heavy sigh leaves my lips. There’s so much to do here. My mind gets too lost in where and how to arrange everything that I didn’t notice Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi walk in with me.

“Whoa. There’s more boxes in here than the rest of the apartment.” Jimin’s eyes widen as he tries to find a place to start.

“Reminds me of when we move offices.” Yoongi comments as he opens the box closest to him. Thankfully it’s only dvds from previous jobs or performances.

“Then we know how to handle it.” Namjoon confidently pats my shoulder as I tugged up the sleeves of the sweater. Time to get some work done…

My eyes start to hurt as I try to figure out why my speakers are working with my desktop. We’ve been at it for almost two hours, I’ve lost Namjoon to the gaming party in the living room. Jimin has gotten lost in the pile of Naruto manga that is proudly displayed on a bookcase. Thankfully Yoongi has stayed with me.

“Let me see, it may be a bad wire. It happened once in Genius Lab.” I wiggle from behind the desk and plop into the chair. My somewhat good mood has faded as the night goes on. This is really the last thing I need done before my office is fully unpacked.

“Fixed. You had them switched.” Yoongi smiles lightly as he adjusts the desk and it sits flush against the wall. Thank god, now I need to get them all something for helping me so much.

“Thank you Yoongi. Why don’t you go join the others? I’m just going to break all the boxes down and pick up the trash.”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly, leaving a reading Jimin and a worn out me in the finished room. Honestly I couldn’t be happier. There’s just enough room where I can dance if I need to work out a move. Namjoon and I set up my camera so it can record if I get ideas, we mounted it above my desk so there aren’t any cords to trip over. I may be a dancer but I’m as clumsy as a person with two left feet.

“Are you okay Y/n?” Turning on my heels I meet Jimin’s gaze. He’s putting the book back in its spot as he moves closer to me. I shake me head yes but I see a small box sitting on the ground. My legs wobble slightly as I move over to it and try to open the tape with my bare hands. Thankfully Jimin is thanking clearer than I am and grabs the scissors.

“Thank you.” Slicing the tape, I see a few picture frames and my heart feels heavy. It’s a picture of me and my two sisters right before I left. They threw me surprise going away party with just us and a few family members. Tears start to prick at the corner of my eyes as I move to place it on my desk.

“Are these your sisters?” Jimin asks as he shuffles through the box, turning I see him holding a picture frame. A weird mix of smile and smirk grace his lips. What picture could he have?

Oh no.

Fire lights in my cheeks as I try to take the photo away from him. Crap. That’s the last thing I wanted him to see. My sister and I are standing in age order with our backs turned to the camera, but our faces turned so you can see who is who, a thumb pointing to the back of our shirts as we stand in front of a large arena. It’s from our first time going to see BTS all together. Each of us wearing a different jersey style shirt. Of course they would pack this one in with my others even after I told them not to.

“I guess Nikole thought it would be funny to pack this. It’s really embarrassing.”

“How? You all look excited.”

“It was the first time the- we got to see you perform. One of the best shows I’ve ever seen.” I had to catch myself before I gave it away that I had been to others.

“Here’s another one.” Jimin grabs the last frame out and I want to die.

It’s a picture of me, wide smile with my army bomb staring up at the stage in awe. The lights in the background almost made it look like something from a fairy tail at how I was glowing. It was during the performance of ‘Fire’ that she took this because I was so proud to see my hard work come to life.

Namjoon had sent us tickets for right by the stage that way we could somewhat see each other during sound check and the concert. I hadn’t kept up with the set list and when I say them running through ‘Fire’ I almost cried. So leave it to my youngest sister to take a picture of the actual concert performance. I swear I’m going to hide this picture in the deepest, darkest drawer I have here.

Jimin mumbles something under his breath, it’s so soft and quick that I can’t make out what’s said. But there’s a strange tension in the room now. I clear my throat and take the second picture from him.

“Ah I knew you had a favorite!” My whole body jumps and I almost drop the frames. Namjoon has been peering over my shoulder long enough to make out who’s is wearing each shirt.

“Jesus Namjoon, you scared the life out of me.” As an instinct the words come out in English. The filter in my brain stopped working from being scared. Jimin can’t help but look at me as if I had a second head when the words came out in an accent he hadn’t heard much before.

“I figured out Nikole and Nat’s that night but not yours. Seems you’ve been hiding something from me.” The grin on his face is full of playfulness and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, come on Jimin, Y/n. Kookie and Jin are the last two players in the contest. Let’s see who’s going to win.” Glancing over at Jimin another giggle slips through my lips as I notice his cheeks are painted a light shade of pink. The boys lead the way out but I quickly drop off the frames on my bed before joining them.

All of the members have spread out across the couch and the floor. Empty boxes are stacked by the balcony door and everything seems to have found a home. They are quicker than I am, that’s for sure. Yoongi points over to the countertop and I see a pair of pajamas waiting for me.

“Jungkookies clothes would be too big for you, I had an extra pair anyways.”

“Thank you again. I’ll change after watching the last round though. I feel bad for leaving you all out here.” I scratch the back of my head and frown a little. Honestly I would’ve liked to spend more time out here but there was a lot to do.

“Don’t worry about it! Also, I unpacked the kitchen and you need to go shopping.” Hoseok calls from his spot on the couch. He did the kitchen?! I really owe them, maybe I can take them to dinner tomorrow.

“I should probably do that tomorrow after my luggage gets here.” Namjoon pats the couch and I happily oblige as my legs start to feel like a thousand pounds. I squeeze in between Namjoon and Taehyung.

“You can go with me. I’ll come by and get you in the morning.” Hoseok is willing to volunteer himself for something I can handle on my own makes my heart jump. They really are the most welcoming and accepting group of people I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of people in the entertainment industry.

“I’d like that a lot.” Smiling, I lean back into the couch and shimmy out my phone. There’s not much going on except a few notifications from my email. I’m too tired to check them now but I will in the morning. Taehyung reaches over as my guard is down and goes to my secure app that I was told to download. BigHit is all about security, so they told me that they only message within secure and private app accounts. Smart by all means but it’s going to take some getting used to.

A few minutes pass by as I watch him through heavy eyes and finally see that there are seven new contacts and a new group chat. Quietly I thank him but it’s drowned out by the cheering and hollering around us. Once again Jungkook proves he’s superior at most things. I fight against my body screaming for sleep as I clap along.

Namjoon gently nudges me and I look at him with a weak smile. He knows, well they all know too well what exhaustion can do to a person's body.

“Alright everyone, time to go. Some of us have work to do tomorrow.” Being the ever vigilant leader, he manages to wrangle the members. A few protests come from the younger three and I told them we could all get together another time.

I wave goodbye and tell them how thankful I am for them helping me as they single file out of the apartment. Shutting the door, I lock it slowly and trudge back to the bedroom turning off the lights as I go. My hands grab at the clothes on the counter and I stumble into my room.

A few ideas pop into my mind at how to decorate but that can wait, for now I need to sleep. Gently I peel off Namjoon’s sweater and fold it nicely. I’ll make sure to have it cleaned for him before giving it back.

Like a zombie I change into the comfy clothing and cleanup before bed. My head feels so much better as the buns come tumbling down. I can’t even look at the mirror knowing that I look as bad as I feel.

Crawling into the bed, my mind can’t seem to turn off as my body aches for sleep. I guess I’m missing home just a little. On instinct I reach for my phone that’s plugged up and rest it where I can lay in bed and video chat. Clicking on Nat’s name I patiently wait.

“Why are you still awake?” I look around in the background and I can tell she’s back at home already. Her exam must be finished already.

“I can’t sleep.” My voice feels foreign to my ears. I wonder if this is how Namjoon feels.

“Then tell me about your day. I haven’t really gotten to talk to you since you left.” It’s no secret that Nat hates being separated from Nikole and I. That’s why it was difficult for her to accept that I was leaving. There were tons of late nights spent packing and just talking.

“There’s not much to tell. Dinner was interesting though.” My eyes start to close, they feel like a thousand pounds.

“I would hope so. I mean after all you got to hangout with seven of the coolest people ever.” I huff out a laugh at my sister’s comment. Nuzzling my head into the pillows as I struggle to pull the covers up, Nat lets out a small huff.

“Get some sleep sis.”

Buzz ...Buzz...Buzz….

My eyes screw close tighter as I blindly reach for my phone on the nightstand. Groaning out in frustration I finally grab the cold device and shiver slightly as I lift it to my ear, the cord snagging as I struggle with it.

“Hello…” My voice cracks towards the end as I roll over to see sunlight pouring in from the window beside me. What time is it?

“Good morning y/n! It’s Hoseok, I thought you wanted help going shopping this morning?” There’s a slight teasing tone in his voice, pulling my phone away I check the time. 1:30 p.m. Crap!

There’s a knock on my door and I instantly take off sprinting. I must look crazy because as I fling the door open Hoseok jumps back with a look of pure shock. His phone slowly drops from his ear and he quickly ends the call. In front of him sit my three suitcases that went missing yesterday. Thank god they are here.

“I’m so sorry. I overslept, please tell me you weren’t waiting too long.” I bow slightly but I snap back up when a breeze hits my skin. How could I forget that I’m not wearing my own clothes?! Idiot.

“When Namjoon couldn’t get ahold of you I went ahead and did a few other errands.” My eyes dart back to the phone in my hands and notice the dozens of missed calls and texts. One being an email from BigHit…..fantastic.

“I guess you aren’t too used to jet lag like the rest of us. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll take you to get some coffee.” Hoseok smiles widely and I feel a new bubble of energy burst in my body. Grabbing two of the suitcases, I roll them into the apartment before grabbing the third one.

“Give me like...5 minutes. I’ll try to be quick.” Bowing apologetically, I snatch my pink suitcase and take off for my bedroom. My feet barely miss the empty boxes that litter the living room from last night. I’ll have to figure out where to take these later this afternoon.

Slamming my door shut louder than I intended I make myself jump. Skimming through my notifications I get the gist of what all I missed; my sisters being nosey and overprotective, Namjoon trying to wake the sleeping beast, a few texts from Hoseok trying to figure out if I’m awake and lastly an email reminding me of the meeting at 8am on Monday which has a dress code of business casual. So I’ll have to take a bag of my dance clothes to change into. I might as well leave some in my office if this is a regular thing.

Tossing my phone to the side, I unzip the large suitcase and pull out my favorite Saturday outfit. Stripping out of Yoongi’s shorts I jump around as I tug up the black ripped skinny jeans, almost tripping over my carry on. Lord today might be my last day on earth with how clumsy I’ve been today. Cheering quietly in victory I gently take off Jungkook’s huge shirt and dress myself in my version of the white T-shirt, top it all off with a black and red flannel, finishing it off with white converse. Perfect. Now time to take the mane.

“Hey y/n are these videos the ones you made before moving?” Hoseok yells out from the office as I shove my toothbrush into my mouth. Closing my lips around the brush, I throw my hair up into a messy bun and emerge from my room.

“Yes….I can...show you...later.” I manage to say through foamed toothpaste without looking like a crazy person. It must be an entertaining look because Hoseok tried hard to hide his laughter. Running back, I spit out the foam and grab the face mask Jimin gave me last night just in case.

Grabbing everything I need, phone-check, purse-check, mask-check, keys...in the purse.

“Ready?” Tilting my head to the side, a child like smile spreads on my face. I’ve never been this excited to go grocery shopping before. Must be the sunshine effect of the famous J-Hope. It feels weird to call him by his stage name so I’ll just wait until he tells me to.

“Let’s get going! But first coffee. There’s a little shop down the road and they know to be discreet.”

Discretion. Something I’ve never really been used to but now it’s a huge factor in my job. Being around one of the fastest growing bands in the world comes with more media attention. Their stylist and trainers don’t really get much exposure but I saw their old choreographer a lot more in photos and videos. The fans didn’t say much because it was another guy. I can just imagine what the fans will think with a woman around all the time.

I knew the risks, I’m very well aware that one wrong step could lead to me being back home. Is this even acceptable? Going shopping with one of the members and their manager doesn’t sound like a situation that’s allowed. But if it was a big deal Namjoon would’ve stopped me.

There’s a black van pulled up to the front and a large man standing outside of vehicle. Security. Better safe than sorry.

“Sorry. Normally our managers drive us around.”

“It’s fine. I know your safety is more important. If it’s too much of a hassle I can always go on my own.”

“No way! You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. After yesterday I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”

A sincere sunshine smile radiates from Hoseok as he slides the van door open for us. Fumbling with my mask I hop into my seat. The door slams loudly and my nerves start to go haywire. It’s justifiable though considering I’ve never been alone with any other member beside Namjoon for more than a few minutes. This adventure could hours…

Snatching my phone out of my purse I send a quick text to Namjoon letting him know that I’m internally freaking out.

Y/N:‘Why did I agree to this? I feel like Hoseok will get bored of me.’

RM: ‘Just be yourself. See you later, working on something.’

“Is it nice having a Saturday off Hoseok? I remember Namjoon telling me once that getting a full weekend off feels like a vacation.” It’s no secret that each member works themselves to the bone. Namjoon has told me countless times that Yoongi would stay for days on end in the studio.

“It’s strange but I’m glad. There was a lot of things I needed to get done today and this is the last errand.” His fingers are typing quickly on the screen. Looking away so I don’t invade his privacy, my eyes take in the scenery. Small shops and large crowds fill the streets.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait. I feel bad. You all were more than willing to help me last night.” Looking down at the phone, I lock it and slide it into my purse. I still need to figure out how to repay them for their help. Last night I thought I could make dinner but it may just be easier if I take everyone out.

The car comes to a stop in front of a small coffee shop. Shuffling through my purse, I bring up the white mask and cautiously wrap around my ears. Last night was almost a disaster when I felt the straps tug at my earrings. Pulling the door, Hoseok jumps out and holds the door open long enough for me to exit as well. The manager leads the way as we enter the small shop.

It’s adorable. Small tables line the walls and there’s a large bookcase beside the register. Maybe on my next day off I can come in and read a book. Smiling I stand behind Hoseok and stare at the menu. Bouncing on the balls of my feet as I order an iced coffee, my eyes wander around the shop. I can’t help but notice a few curious customers staring at the two of us. For some reason my heart starts to hammer in my chest. The last thing I want is to get Hoseok in trouble.

“Don’t worry too much. I come here a lot, with and without security.” His words calm my heart a little, but I still want to leave. I guess it’s the gitters of being so close to a member of BTS. Or maybe because I haven’t even gotten to work a real first day yet.

Hoseok pats my shoulder lightly as our names are called. Taking my cup with a quiet ‘thank you’ I follow the man in front of me back into the safety of the van. Tugging the mask down to take a sip I feel a sigh of relief escape my body.

“I didn’t realize last night that you have so many piercings. They look really cool.” Raising a hand up I trace the line of piercings. The studs feel rough under my finger as I twist the one on the bottom.

“It’s something my sisters and I did growing up. It was almost a competition, if one of us would get another the other two would. Nikole has more though, I stopped with the three on top and bottom.” The last time I got a piercing was after the BTS concert. Adrenaline was pumping through me and it was all I could think of.

“Jungkookie will be jealous that you have more than him.” His giggle makes my body vibrate with energy. Being around Hoseok is like being around a ball of pure, fun energy. It makes me want to run a mile, clean my entire house and dance for hours. None of which I’ll get done today but it’s a nice thought.

Pulling into a large parking lot, there’s a lot more people than I thought would be. That’s what I get for sleeping in so late. Definitely not going to bed at a decent time tonight.

“Ms. y/l/n, Hoseok you will have to be quick. Traffic is starting to pick up and it will just be safer.” Nodding slowly, all four of us exit the van and make our way to the store. Hoseok bumps my shoulder as we both grab a cart. Laughing lightly, I bump against him as I walk beside him.

As we walk through the store, both of our carts start to fill up. His more than mine though since he’s getting enough for seven compared to my one. The more that we’re inside, the more my face starts to feel warmer and warmer from the mask. I should’ve worn one back home to adjust.

“What else do you need Hoseok?” Clearing my throat, I tug at the mask to let a small breeze of cool air in. I don’t want to seem like I’m rushing him because he was nice enough to wait for me.

“Um...I think I need to get some milk and then I’m done. Are you feeling okay? I noticed you messing with the mask.”

“I’m fine. Just getting a little toasty, don’t worry about it.” Adding some cheer into my voice, I pick up the pace beside him. A few people look at us as we pass them, a few younger girls have their phones out giggling in groups. I really hope no one notices Hoseok right now.

“Um, do you think everyone would like to go to dinner tonight? My treat.” Those words make him stop in his tracks. A goofy laugh erupts from his chest as he almost doubles over.

“After last night I think everyone would like that, but are you sure about paying? Jungkook and Jin could out eat anyone you’ve met.”

“I’m completely sure. I need to make sure you all eat well before I put you to work on Monday.” Winking at him, we make our way to the checkout counter and start to pay for everything. The process of checking out is so much quicker than our almost hour long shopping trip. I can’t believe we’ve been here that long.

Patiently waiting for Hoseok, I hold tightly to the handles I look around at the rest of the store. There’s definitely more people, I can’t help but swallow nervously. The voice in the back of my mind telling me it was a bad idea.

“All done! Let’s get back.” His singsong voice calms me as all four of us make our way back to the van. Being careful to divide our things into two different piles, we jump right back in and sink into the plush seats. Hoseok quickly pulls out his phone and types at the speed of lightning. Pulling my mask down, I take in a deep breath.

“Everyone but Namjoon and Yoongi will help us carry all of this stuff up.” A strange wave of guilt hits me.

“Hoseok don’t worry about me. I can carry all of mine up.”

“Call me J-Hope, everyone does. And don't worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

Of course I could only get away with being so formal for so long. And there’s no point in arguing with him either.

“Good. And the quicker we get these groceries put away the faster I can watch the videos.” Even through the mask I see a smirk.

I can’t help but smirk too. Of course there’s a hidden meaning behind the kind actions. Two can sort of play that game too.

“Very true. But don’t tell the others. Take it as a thank you for going shopping with me.” I elbow him gently as I winked at him. Earning me a genuine Hoseok laugh.

The drive back is quicker and before I know it the four other members are waiting somewhat calmly down at the front door. It’s strange to see them so ...domestic.

Hoseok jumps out of the van as soon as it’s parked, which gets him a slight scolding from his manager. I can’t help but giggle. Not even worrying about the mask, I follow suit and jump out. All of the boys are dressed in joggers and long sleeve shirts. Their hair disarray from laying around and enjoying their day off. Taehyung greets me with a large boxy smile and an enthusiastic wave.

“Hobi hyung I think you got too much.” Jimin slightly complains as he grabs the bags Hoseok passes. Wiggling my way through I manage to grab all of my bags but some get taken from my hands. I teeter for a second at the sudden weight shift as I stare at a grinning Taehyung.

“Oh, thank you Taehyung.”

“No problem!”

He leads the way with a bounce in his step and I can’t help to put a little more pep in my step. As we enter the building I can’t help but feel like someone is staring at me. Glancing over my shoulder I catch the quick turn of Jimin’s head as he busies himself by grabbing bags. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

The ride up to the apartment is quiet but in a relaxing way. I don’t feel pressured to start or continue a conversation or ask questions. It’s nice.

As the elevator dings, I step out and Taehyung is right behind me. Unlocking my door, I move flat against the door so he can enter before me.

“Do you need help getting rid of those boxes y/n?” His head nods towards the large pile of broken down boxes and a bag full of paper. That’s something else I need to take care of today before Hoseok comes over. But then again there’s no point in rushing myself to completely move in after only being here a full day.

“I was going to take care of them later Taehyung, thank you though.” His smile never fades as he bounces to the door again after dropping the bags on the kitchen counter. With a quick wave, the door shuts loudly and I’m left in a silent apartment. A sigh wrecks through my body as I trudge into the kitchen. Setting down the bags, I fish out my phone and open up the group chat Taehyung created.

Y/N:‘To say thank you for everything, why don’t we all go out to dinner tonight? My treat :)’

Leaving my phone sit unlocked, I start to figure out how I want to arrange everything. Humming along to a random tune, my phone vibrates nonstop for a solid minute before I finally get to check it.

Kookie:’Be ready at 6 noona! I’ll come get you!’

J-Hope:’I told you this might be a bad idea, Jin hyung and Kookie are already getting a reservation.’

Jin:’Eating is never a bad idea, see you at 6 y/n!’

RM:’I go to work in the studio for a few hours...see you soon everyone.’

A few more texts come in from Taehyung and Yoongi but Jimin stays silent. Letting out a huff, I throw all the bags into the trash can and before I can shuffle off into my room a loud knock echoes from the front door. Hoseok.

“Come in!” I yell from the living room and he’s practically jumping as he takes a seat on the couch. Giggling I load the dvd into the player and take a seat beside him.

“I’m going to have to tweak it a little once I see everyone grouped together. But it’s basically the finished product.”

“Lets see it. I haven’t been this excited to have practice in a long time.”

My heart flutters at his words as I press play. A wave of nervousness washes over me as I try to gauge his reaction. For the first time he’s completely expressionless around me. Biting the inside of my cheek I curl up into a ball and pick at my nails. He probably hates it. Or he probably wishes that I didn’t replace their previous coach. As the song comes to an end, the screen fades to black. I can’t bring myself to look at him as the next song plays.

An excruciating twenty minutes later, the DVD stops playing and silence hangs around us. I almost want to run into a studio and start over on everything without even hearing his opinions.

“That ...are you sure we can’t start today?!”

Huh….

Glancing over at him, my stomach settles and I can’t help but burst out laughing. Here I was thinking that he hated it. Hoseok’s brows furrow together as I laugh even harder at his reaction.

“Sorry...ha..I thought you hated it. I was ready to run to the company and remake everything.”

“Ah, sorry…But honestly this is pretty incredible. It’s intricate and eye catching. We’ve got our work cut out for us this time for sure.” Hoseok searches for his phone and lets out a deep sigh. His expression went from carefree to annoyed in the blink of an eye, I wonder what’s going on.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you for dinner.” He’s off the couch instantly as he forces a smile saying goodbye.

I can’t wrap my mind around what just happened as I stare at the closed door. Maybe something came up with the members? It’s none of my business though, whatever happens in their personal life is completely private and I shouldn’t pry into it.

Tossing the remote onto the coffee table, I fall back into the couch and stare up at the white ceiling. For the first time in days, I’m not exhausted. Every fiber of my being is surging with energy to do something, anything really. The only thing really left to do is unpack my bedroom. Perfect.

Tapping my phone screen to double check the time, I have enough time to unload all of my suitcases and play around with my room. Connecting my phone to the speaker in my room music starts to fill the silent apartment and a large smile spreads on my lips. My eyes land on the pictures that I hid away in my room last night. Instantly I grab them and place them on top of the dresser so they wouldn’t get broken.

I can’t believe that Jimin found those last night, actually I can’t believe my sister packed those without me even knowing. Actually I can. My sister would do anything to embarssess me in front of each and every member. They’ve managed to do so in front of Namjoon so many times that I’ve just gotten used to it. But the worst case scenario for me is Park Jimin. I’ve always admired his style of dance and how he can move so seamlessly with any genre of music.

The music in my room stops playing and ‘Just One Day’ starts blaring through the speakers. My cheeks flush red as I search for my phone that’s mixed in with the massive pile of clothes littering my bed. I finally find it and roll my eyes at the caller id.

“Yes Namjoon…” There’s a slight annoyance in my voice but it disappears when I hear a few different chuckles in the background.

“I just wanted to call and let you know to dress up.” Dress up? Where in the world are we going?

“Um...why?” I hear a few more giggles in the background before Namjoon hushed everyone.

“Seems that everyone is going a little over the top tonight outfit wise. Taehyung came out completely overdressed and now everyone else is trying to outdo each other.”

“You did warn me that they could be a little over the top.” Sighing I look at the piles of clothes, at least this time I have plenty of options. But I’m definitely calling Nat for some input, after all having a fashion designer in the family comes in handy.

“It’s a surprise. I just wanted to give you enough heads up.”

“Thanks. I guess I better finish up what I’m doing so I can look presentable for everyone.” I can’t help but chuckle as I end the call and frantically call my sister. Hopefully she’s still awake.

Who am I kidding, that girl runs off of two hours of sleep and coffee.

Clicking on the facetime icon, I run and start the shower so I can just jump in once Nat ends the call. Just as I suspect, her face pops on the screen. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun and she’s sitting at her desk. She’s probably working overtime on her midterm project like always.

“Nat I need help!” The desperation is clear in my voice as I flip the camera over to look at the mess of clothes. An annoyed sigh comes through the speaker as she rolls her eyes.

“Hello to you too dear sister. Last time I checked you moved halfway around the world....how could I possibly help you?”

“I need your expert advice. Help me pick out a nice outfit for dinner tonight, pretty please!” Flipping the camera back around I pout at the screen which earns me a gut filled laugh from Nat. Honestly if it wasn’t for her I would be constantly dressed in leggings and tank tops.

“Fine. But what do I get out of it?” I know she’s teasing me but I feel bad for interrupting her work. I’ll have to think about something just so she knows that I appreciate everything.

“I’ll think of something like always. But please Nat, I don’t have long to figure out some sort of outfit and get myself presentable.”

“You’re acting like this is some huge dinner. Is it a work event?”

“Uh, you could say that I guess. I’m going with people I work with.” It’s not a lie but it’s not the truth either. The last thing I want is another lecture from my little sister about boundaries and keeping work separate outside of the office.

“Good to know that you still try to keep secrets from me, but I won’t ask. Since I know all of the clothes you own, how about the black turtle neck with the red skirt. Wear the thigh high black heels.”

My eyes dart around the pile as I grab the items she lists off and I can’t help but smile. Nat is going to make a great stylist for sure once she’s out of college. Whoever she works for will be really lucky.

“Anything else dear sister?”

“Don’t go over the top with anything else, keep it simple. Curl your hair though.”

“Thank you, how’s the project coming? I know that you only have about a month or so left.”

“I’ve been struggling with finding the right accent piece. But it’s not going to stop me from passing. Anyways it was great talking but I really need to finish this, it’s due on Monday.”

“You’ll do amazing considering you can style me from halfway around the world. Love you!”

She blows a kiss at the camera as the screen goes black. I release a sigh of relief, I’m beyond glad that she didn’t try to pry too much into things. Hanging the items up on a hanger, I hurry and put away the rest of my clothes and suitcases. It’s a rushed job but it will do for now. Later on I can always rearrange and make it look nicer. But for now I have to hurry and get ready.

A few hours later and a few energy drinks later I’m completely dressed and ready to go. Taking all of Nat’s advice, I bend down and zip up the heels. My hair falls in my face and I huff out an annoyed breath to blow it away. Normally I love to keep my hair up and out of the way since it’s so long but tonight isn’t a night where I can do that. But maybe I can pin it back. Shuffling to the bathroom, stupid heels, I twist a small section on each side and pin it back so my face is hair free. All of my piercings are visible as well and I can’t help but smile. Maybe the next time I get together with my sisters I’ll add on another one.

Switching off the bathroom light, I move back into my room and dig out my small black boy bag and throw my phone and keys inside. Hopefully we are driving because I highly doubt I’ll be able to walk all the way to and from the restaurant like last time. Turning towards my closet I catch my reflection in the full length mirror and instantly my stomach tightens.

All my life I’ve been self conscious about my body and looks. By no means am I overweight but I’ve always felt the pressure of fitting into the social standard of “thin and beautiful”. Since I’ve danced my entire life my legs are more toned and have more muscle than other women my size. Whenever I wear skirts or dresses I always feel a little people are silently judging me for wearing something so revealing and not having that picture perfect thigh gap.

Pulling at the hem of the skirt I stand straight up and suck in a deep breath. I really hope they don’t think I look too bad. And I really hope they don’t think this outfit is a normal occurrence either. This will be one of the only times I wear something like this in front of them.

A loud knock at the door snaps me out of my inner thoughts and I take in another deep breath.

“Let’s do this.”

Switching off the lights as I go, I open the door to a smiling Jungkook. He’s jumping on the balls of his feet as I step into the hallway and lock my door. Looks like Namjoon was being serious about dressing up, Jungkook’s wearing dress pants with a navy blue dress shirt. He looks like he’s about to go to an interview, not dinner with his brothers and his choreographer.

“You look nice noona. Ready for dinner?” A bunny smile graces his lips, it’s the most pure smile I’ve ever seen. Nodding yes and whispering out a small thank you we ride the elevator down to the lobby where the other six men are waiting for us.

And if I didn’t have as much respect as I do for them I might have just fangirl. Each of them is dressed like Jungkook but with a different colored shirt. Namjoon was being dead serious about it being almost a competition. My cheeks heat up as everyone turns to look at us and I meet eyes with Jimin. Crap. After him finding my picture yesterday I feel weird around him. What if he thinks I’m just some crazy fan that’s trying to get close to everyone.

“Do you mind driving one of the cars y/n? Jin is going to drive too that way we don’t have to walk everywhere.” Namjoon walks over to greet me with a dimpled smile.

“Absolutely, who’s riding with us?” His smile fades as he adjusts the glasses on his face.

“Actually I don’t know where the restaurant is. JK and Jin have been there a few times. The maknae line actually all called dibs on riding with you.”

There’s a bunch of snickers and giggles around us. I guess there’s no getting out of this one. I mean what could possibly go wrong with the four of us in a car? I mean we’re all about the same age anyways.

“Sounds like a plan.” Walking towards the door, I walk past most of them except for Namjoon who’s keeping pace right beside me. The others are hot on our heels but that doesn’t stop Namjoon from picking on me.

“I’m guessing you called Natalie since you hung up on me earlier.” He elbows me gently, which normally wouldn’t cause me to stumble but since I’m in these awful heels I teater just a tad. Someone grabs my waist to help me rebalance but it’s gone as soon as it was there, snapping my head to the side I catch a glimpse of Jimin walking past. Maybe I just imagined it, I mean it was super quick.

“I call passenger!” Jungkook screams and goes running for my car. Taehyung is right behind him as they race for the spot. Looking over at Namjoon he mouths out ‘good luck’ as he gets into Jin’s car. Great….

Jungkook whips out his phone and instantly starts to play music over the bluetooth. In the backseat Taehyung and Jimin sing along and dance. We haven’t even left the parking lot yet. Buckling up, Jungkook just tells me to follow behind Jin. There’s no questions asked but instead we have our own karaoke montage. Anything from their early music to new music by American artists. Thankfully we make it to the restaurant in no time.

As soon as we make it into the private room, I take the seat beside Namjoon and tap his shoulder firmly. That was a long car ride and we only went ten minutes down the road. It’s like he can read my mind as he pours me a small glass of soju. Smoothing my skirt down, I sit down and accept his offer of apology. Sipping the glass slowly the seat next to me gets taken by Jungkook quickly as Taehyung and Jimin snag the seats across from me. I can’t lie that the ride was fun but it was chaotic. I never realized how much energy they all have, not just Jungkook.

“Did all of the maknae have fun?” Yoongi chuckles as he looks through the menu. Shrugging my shoulders I continue to sip my glass and read through the menu.

“We might steal noona on the way back though. She hasn’t gotten to explore much since she just got here.” My eyes widen as I choke on my drink slightly. This was definitely not something I planned on doing. Jungkook turns to me with a twinkle in his eyes but this time I have to say no. There’s too many risks.

“I’m sorry Jungkook, maybe another time. I don’t think it’s such a good idea for all of us to go out. We could get spotted, I could get in trouble with BigHit. Maybe another time okay?”

The pout that forms on his lips makes me want to instantly take back everything I said but I can’t. Maybe after I get on good terms with everyone at the company then I can possibly take him up on the offer of exploring.

“Listen to her Jungkookie. The last thing we want is for y/n to not even start her first day and get in trouble.” Yoongi comments to relieve me from the instant guilt I feel from telling him no. Listening to his hyung he nods and starts to talk with Hoseok. Smiling, I look back down at the menu and breath deeply. Looking through my lashes I notice Jimin and Taehyung looking at me discreetly. Or at least trying to. What if Jimin told him about the picture? Mentally I smack myself because I know that I’m being a little paranoid. If there was a problem Namjoon would’ve said something already.

After placing our orders, the room is filled with laughter and numerous stories. I try to chime in here and there but I’m too interested in listening. So I sit quietly in my chair as Namjoon and I work on a bottle of wine that he’s ordered. Everyone seems to be having fun so the atmosphere is light and bubbly. I lean over and turn my head away from everyone to whisper to Namjoon.

“This is probably the wine talking, but what you all have is special.” A gentle smile rest on both of our faces as I turn to take in the rest of the members. They are all smiling and seem to be carefree despite their hectic and unpredictable lives. An occupational hazard of being an idol.

“It’s been a struggle, you know that. I feel like we’re finally at a place where our music helps others.” The sincerity in his voice makes me nod in agreement as goosebumps form under my sleeves.

“It does, more than you all know.” Smiling brightly at him, I look across and notice that the maknaes have been watching the small conversation between us. Taehyung seems to be watching closer than the other two but he turns away quickly when Hoseo calls for him.

Letting out the breath I had been holding in, the food comes out in platters on the table. Everyone starts to fill their plates as the conversations still seem to pour out. I nibble on my food, too much wine in my system, as I listen to them recall day from their debut times. My heart clenches as I want to comment on their first performance in the states but Namjoon and I both made an agreement. One that I plan on keeping.

“You’re quiet y/n, is everything okay?”

“Huh, oh yeah everything’s fine Jimin. I’m just taking everything in.”

“Did I tell you guys that y/n went to a concert of ours back in the states?” Jimin smiles as he looks at me straight on. His tone isn’t mean in any way, more like playful teasing but I can’t help the blush forming on my face.

“Ah, my sisters and I went to one. It was amazing! Probably one of the best nights of our lives.” Nervously I reach for my chopsticks and start poking at the food on my plate. I feel my phone buzz in my bag but I ignore it as I try to divert attention away from me.

“It looked like it. What was your favorite song on the setlist?”

“Fire, for sure. It was…” I stop midway through to try and process how I felt seeing my choreo performed. My heart was racing as I sang along with every word and tried not to dance along as well. There was a surge of energy and pure adrenaline that kept me up for hours after the concert.

“Something else. I guess seeing all the hard work that was put into the song and choreo...there’s no other feeling greater than that.” Tilting my head to the side a large smile forms as I look back up at everyone. The sincerity in my answer seems to resonate with the members as they all nod in agreement. We continue eating our dinner in a peaceful silence. Relaxing into my chair I suck in a breath of relief.

Once dinner is over and the drinks have ran dry, a few of the members excuse themselves to go to the restroom or are trying to get ready to leave. For the first time I’m left alone with Jin and it’s fun. Everyone else makes fun of him for his dad jokes but yet I love them. Laughing up a storm, I look around for anyone else but it seems they’re all waiting.

“I guess I need to get the bill. Everyone seems to be waiting outside.”

“They have to wait for us either way since we are the two that drove. But about the bill…Yoongi may or may not have already paid while we were sitting here.” Jin gently shrugs his shoulders as I facepalm myself. This was supposed to be my way of thanking everyone for helping. He stands from the table and motions with his head to follow him.

Groaning I stand up and grab my bag tightly. Standing next to Jin is slightly intimidating even with these heels on. He opens the front door for me and I bow in thanks as we meet with group. Yoongi scratches at the back of his head as I shoot him a slight annoyed glare. But my eyes soften as I get closer to him.

“Thank you Yoongi. This was supposed to be my treat though.” I say quietly as I stand in front of him, still not quiet eye level.

“Just go easy on us.” He finishes with a wink and goes towards Jin’s car. It seems like this is our que to head back to the dorms. Halfway skipping and partially stumbling because of these stupid heels, I open the driver door and plop down.

As soon as the car starts, all four of us sing along to some random song playing on the radio. Of course the other three sound amazing compared to me but it makes the drive go by quicker. That and the fact that it’s late and not many people are out. My eyes bulge out slightly at the time displayed on the dashboard...it’s almost 10:30. I can’t believe we were at dinner for almost four hours, that’s insane. But I guess it makes sense considering there were eight of us.

“Are we going to be starting everything on Monday?” Taehyung yells over the music causing me to turn it down and interrupt Jimin and Jungkook’s mini concert.

“Yes. But first I have a meeting with all the department heads. After that I’ll do a run through with each of you individually. Hoseok will show you the video while I’m gone.”

They all seem to absorb everything I’m saying as I pull into a parking spot. Jungkook and Taehyung jump out of the car as I let out a deep sigh before turning off the car. Jimin moves just as slowly as I do. I can’t tell whether he’s tired or is bored, but I’m not going to interrogate him. Opening my door, I lock the car as I watch the swarm of men walk through the doors. Instead of following them, I walk over to a bench that’s nestled between two trees on the edge of the building.

Sitting down slowly, I crane my neck back so I can look up at the night sky. Back at home if you stayed out late enough you could see a sky full of stars but there are too many lights for that here. Stargazing has been a nightly occurrence for the past few months. These past few months I’ve been working around the clock and running on coffee. It’s nice to see that all of that hard work finally got me here but the exhaustion is definitely catching up to me.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here too long without a jacket.”

Snapping my head over my hair spills over my face and I let out a huff of annoyance. Reaching into my bag, I pull out my backup hairtie and pull it into a high ponytail. Jimin takes the empty seat next to me and looks up at the sky as well. Silently I’m thankful that he doesn’t want to lecture me any further or have a conversation. Returning my gaze upwards I hear Jimin take in a deep breath.

There’s a tension in the air. It feels like both of us want to say something but we are too afraid too. Turning my head slowly I look at the man beside me and I instantly snap my head back. My cheeks feel hot and my stomach does a flip. All of this feels like a dream, one that I’m going to wake up from at any moment. But yet here I am.

“Let’s head inside. Last thing I want is for the famous Park Jimin to catch a cold before I get a chance to work with him.”

Standing up simultaneously I turn my head to the side and show him a small smile. He musters a nod as he walks beside me quietly. Warmth hits us as we enter the building and I don’t realize how cold I was until my hands start shaking. Jimin hits all the buttons for us as we ride in complete silence as we reach his floor.

“Good night Jimin.”

“Good night y/n.”

The doors close as he’s still looking at me and I let out a breath I had been holding. Monday is going to be a challenge. Could he be questioning my credibility? Or my skill all together. I know that I danced with them for a song and then let them watch the choreo I made. But I know better than anyone that people can look talented by those but turn out to be a complete fraud. Practicing the same thing over and over again will make you a pro at that one thing.

The beeping of the elevator pulls me from my head as I march to my front door. Excitement rushes through my veins at the thought of taking off my shoes and changing into something more...well me. The apartment is quiet as I make my way back to my bedroom and change into my pajamas.

Before I know it, I’m huddled up in my blankets reading through the twenty emails I missed from BigHit while I was out today. I’ll give them credit, as a company they stay in constant contact and make sure everyone is on the same page with each and every department. And everyone knows the schedule of the others.

‘BigHit Monday Schedule:

8:00-9:30 Meeting in main conference room

9:45-12:45 BTS training with y/n in dance room 1

12:45-1:45 Lunch

2:00-3:15 BTS fitting with stylist

3:30-5:00 Individual schedules

5:15-6:30 Studio time

Any activity after 6:30 is considered free time/training time.’

They weren’t kidding when they said they had busy schedules. I get them for three hours on Monday and that’s it. I’ll have to step up my game then. Maybe I’ll get more time throughout the week because I’ll need way more time than 15 hours a week. But if that’s all I get then I’ll have to make some changes to the choreo.

Looks like this is going to be more of a challenge than I originally thought. But I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.

#BTS jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #bts smut #bts fanfic

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jaimistoryteller · 6 years

Text

Sota’s GoFundMe Update Chronicles

I realize that some might wish to be able to read all the updates together, but I don’t want to add them to the previous GoFundMe Post because then it gets to be a bit huge. So I am making this masterpost to keep copies of all his updates beneath the cut.

Sota’s GoFundMe Link

8/20/18

Hello Folks,

I hate to have to ask for help again, but my precious boy is sick and needs to see the vet for a series of tests to see if the medication and special diet he’s been put on to help him is working or not. Any and all help, whether sharing or financial, is appreciated.

For those on twitter, I have a pinned post if you would be kind enough to share, that would be appreciated.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this,

Jaimi

8/21/18 Update

Thank you so much to the people who shared this or have given money towards his medical bills. Currently at 30 dollars. I know at a minimum I will need 450 dollars.

Sota is eating his canned food from the special diet the way the vet was hoping he would. He’s also taking his meds without fighting too much. Both of which are positive signs.

Another positive sign is it is taking his body longer to process water. He’s not just drinking, peeing, drinking more. He seems to be retaining part of it. *fingers crossed*

After realizing the water at my house could be part of the problem, because we live near one of the military bases that is being tested currently, I got some gallon water for my pets, and Sota seems to like it more.

8/22/18

Today’s been a good day for Sota, he’s eaten a can and a half of food, and taken his meds. He was sparky when I tried giving him his shot, and didn’t want to hold still for it.

I am at 60 of the 450 minimum for the next vet appointment, all help is vastly welcome and appreciated!

8/23/18

Thank you so much to all you wonderful people for helping me get to 105 dollars. I know without you all giving and sharing, it never would have happened! Sota is being very feisty today! I am excited to report that he is drinking, eating and litter boxing properly. He spent almost an hour playing for the first time in weeks! Of course, he spent four hours napping afterwards, but I still count it as a win. Thank you all so much. I am hopeful the blood work will show positive results.

8/26/18 Update

There’s been no new improvements today, but he’s stable, for which I am thankful, and he took his meds with very little fighting, only some cat glaring.

Still trying to get to the 450, right now at 105 on here, 20 on paypal, and 20 cash from an craft fair. That puts me at 145 of the 450. There’s still a few weeks left, but I’d like to have the money at least four days a head of time, so I can transfer it over and know it will be available when I go to the vet.

Thank you once more to everyone who has shared or donated, it means more than words can express.

8/28/18 Update

Sorry I didn’t update yesterday, I wasn’t feeling good and wasn’t online much.

For the most part Sota seems to have stabilized. He’s not a fan of meds but takes them without arguing, his special diet is hit or miss however. Sometimes he eats it no problems, other times he argues with me about it.

Thank you to everyone who has shared in some form or donated. I am still working on building up the funds for his appointment on September 19th, so if you could keep sharing that is greatly appreciated.

8/30/18 Update

I hope you are well.

Sota is eating and drinking properly but doesn’t want to take his shot, which is tricky. He needs the shot but is being stubborn. At least he takes his daily meds without arguing!

There has been no changes in how much I have raised. Any and all reblogs, shares on twitter or facebook, are vastly appreciated!

9/3/18 Update

Yesterday I did the craft fair, which ended up only adding five dollars to my over all amount of money for Sota cause I had to get ink to print some new business cards. Hopefully those cards will help people come my way.

That said, he’s still responding to medication. Today’s been a stubborn day, where he doesn’t want to take it, but he needs to. Thankfully, he’s at least not being stubborn with his food today.

Please continue sharing so the chances of hitting the 450 needed for his vet visit on the 17th.

9/4/18 update

Besides saying that Sota ate his food without argument and took his meds without arguing, I don’t really have anything to update.

Still at the same point for the GoFundMe, please continue to share. If you could also share it on twitter and Facebook that’d be vastly welcome and I would be massively grateful.

9/10/18 update

Sorry it’s been a few days since I last updated. I’ve been sick, so I went to the doctor who put me on antibiotics that just happen to make me sleep. A lot.

Sota’s doing well on the meds and special food, he even seems to have put some of the weight he lost back on.

A wonderful anon donated 500 dollars, which pays for the visit on the 17th and starts towards his October visit. I am grateful beyond words to said anon, as I was fretting about how I was going to raise the rest of the money since it had been a few days since anyone had donated.

I am thankful to all of you, those who have donated or shared in some form. You are all amazing.

I politely request that you all continue to share, since I know he will need an appointment in October as well.

9/12/18 Update

Sota’s doing better it seems. He ate an entire can of cat food and let me give him his meds with no arguing.

It’s less then a week before his next appointment. I am hoping that it goes well. That the improvements I am noticing are real and not just the meds controlling the symptoms.

Thank you all to everyone who has shared this in some form, donated, or wished Sota well. I ask that you continue to do so. Take care,

9/15/18 Update

Thank you for all of the support, life went insane on me again, because apparently that’s a thing.

Sota has done well for the most part today, he had an upset stomach earlier, but I think that’s cause he was eating the wrong food, and it didn’t settle well. He took his meds well, for which I am thankful.

Monday is his vet appointment to check whether the meds and food change are actually helping or not. I am hoping they really are and will post an update then.

Please continue to share, thank you for everything,

9/17/18 Update

I was going to update earlier but ended up napping with Sota after my nerves stopped jittering. Today was his vet appointment. I am happy to report that it went well.

He hasn’t improved, which wasn’t surprising, but he hasn’t got worse, and that’s the important part. He’s stable.

There was a small adjustment to his medication and diet based on the tests we got today.

He gets to go back in October for another round of tests. Hopefully after that I will be able to switch to every three months instead.

As of this moment his food and medication will be 50 dollars a month plus tax, for the rest of his life, but he will be a healthy, happy, and pain free cat.

Thank you to everyone who has shared or donated, if you could continue to do so, that’d be appreciated, just in case something surprise comes up. I will be adjusting the amount to include his medication for the rest of the year.

9/21/18

The last test results from the last round of testing just came back, while the first three were good/neutral, the fourth test was bad. So there will be another medication added to his diet.

As such, I will be adjusting the total to add the new meds and the testing needed to make sure that it is working.

Please continue to share. Thank you to everyone who has helped in some manner.

9/24/18

I had intended to do an update yesterday, but ended up pain sleeping instead, the joys of chronic pain.

I got Sota's new medication, he is not thrilled to have to take a pill every day, but I think I got a system worked out for it.

He' still eating his special food, though he's becoming a bit of a social eater, and refuses to eat if I am not. I almost think this is his way of making sure I keep eating, since I keep forgetting.

Please continue to share this across the different social networks, all help is appreciated. You peeps are wonderful.

9/26/18

Sota's been on a new medication for the last five days. Since starting it, he seems to want more food, which is an excellent sign. He's also retaining fluids bit better, another excellent sign.

Unfortunately, I had some company the other day, and they introduced fleas to my house. As I would like to keep them from infecting all the cats, and Sota in particular as they drink blood and kidney problems cause a reduced blood making ability, I am going to be adding the cost of getting rid of them to the overall amount trying to raise.

9/29/18

Sota has now been on his new meds a complete week. They appear to be helping. While he is not hungry for the first hour after he takes them, he does get hungry after that.

At this minute I have 180 of the 450 needed for the next vet visit on October 15th. I don’t have any of the money for the flea medication and house cleaning supplies to kill eggs.

It’s been suggested I make an amazon list, so here it is: Amazon List: Sota

Please keep sharing this across the various social medias as a way to raise awareness and get it to people who can help further. Thank you so much!

10/1/18

Sota’s seems to still be stable, thankfully. Sometimes he eats his cat food without arguing with me, other times I have to mix baby food with it, to encourage him to eat it. He’s taking his meds without problems, for which I am thankful.

As a wonderful peep bought several of the flea killing items off the amazon list, I was going to take that part off the over all amount to raise. Unfortunately, one of the tires on the car I take to the vet popped today, so it’s staying on there, because now I have to get the tire fixed before I go to the vet on the 15th.

I wish to say thank you to all the wonderful people who have helped fund his vet appointments and to those who keep sharing so peeps can do so.

10/5/18

I don’t have too much to say today. Sota’s been taking his meds, mostly without argument, though he’s not a fan of his shots. He’s eating his special food without argument, even asking for it now!

There hasn’t been any donations in the last few days. So I am still at 180 dollars of the 450 needed for the next round.

Please, please, please keep sharing this. There is only ten days until the next vet appointment, which means 8 days for the money to process so I have it when I get there.

10/10/18

Sota's been eating, though sometimes not as easily as I'd like, we play the 'what flavor food do you want today?' game quite often and he sometimes switches mid-meal to a different flavor.

He takes his meds without issues, and we've gotten to the point where he is no longer trying to run away as I give him the sub-q into his shoulders thankfully enough.

Right this moment I am 200 shy of what's needed for his next appointment. I realize this is going on the third month of asking for help, it's still desperately needed, please share this across the various platforms so new individuals may see it and the chances of hitting the goal.

10/12/18

Not a lot of major changes to report.

I got Sota and my other cats some new hard food, one that will be better for Sota for the days when he wants to eat it instead of his special food. He's rather pleased by this, thankfully it was the same price as the food they were on, so that helps the budget.

Due to things outside my control, I am still 200 dollars short, and the appointment is Monday. Please, please, please, share this on the various social medias. I know he's a cat, but he helps me cope with my depression, comforts me when my pains really high, and reminds me of how to function.

Thank you to each who have donated or shared it already, any more sharing is appreciated more then words can express.

#Sota's GoFundMe #Masterlist of Updates #signal boost #catblr #petblr

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mummifymecaptain · 3 years

Text

ghost in your eye

Read me on ao3!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OC

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter One

The thing Lena hated most about her job was, without question, having to leave it every day.

Abandoning the cozy solitude of her basement workspace— full of artifacts, old papers, and yellowed newspaper clippings –for the unchartable conversations and missed social cues of the outside world. It wasn’t that Lena hated people. Rather, she loved them. She just...wasn’t good with them. She didn't understand them and they, in turn, didn’t understand her. Any attempt at friendship always ended painfully awkward.

“Managed to tear yourself away, Miss Lena?”

With the exception of Hank.

Kind, sweet, mild-mannered Hank, the museum’s nightguard. Arguably the closest thing to a friend she had in this world.

“Mary keeps denying my request to move in down there.” Hank chuckled, as though he’d thought she’d been joking with him. She wasn’t.

“Maybe next time, eh?” It was the same exchange they had almost nightly and the familiarity was comforting. All she would have to do is make some sort of noncommittal gesture or noise, breeze by the admissions desk and then it was just a short jaunt to her apartment building four blocks away.

She made it about halfway to the doors before her steps faltered, head canting to the side slightly to watch the shadow that paced. Hank was still at her back, stationed at his post, when she said, “Did you know that there were 12,000,000 soldiers enlisted in the US Army by the end of World War II?”

“I did not.” A rustle of fabric as he shifted in his seat. When he spoke again, his tone was fond. “You learn that from your artifacts?”

The smile she sent him over her shoulder could only be described as enigmatic. “I found an old lockbox of World War II memorabilia today. A few letters, a handful of coins and medals, and a couple of loose dog tags.” She thought of the worn journal in her satchel, nestled between her collection of stolen pens and spare pair of gloves, with its warped pages and newly inked list of names. “I’m going to see what I can find about who the stuff belonged to. Maybe they’ve still got family in the area.”

The box she’d found— a dinged up, tarnished thing –stamped with U.S. ARMY, looked as though it had been abandoned long before the war ended. Lena had surrounded herself with enough history over the years to know what that meant. Her empathetic heart wept for boys she did not know, dead decades before she’d even been born. And forgotten, judging by the layer of dust she’d cleaned off first.

“That’s our Lena,” Hank teased, not unkindly. “Always lookin’ for a mystery to solve.”

Her answering shrug was anything but nonchalant, too stiff and jerky. Her hands started to sweat inside her leather gloves, fingers clenching against the strap of her bag. Did he know? “No one deserves to be forgotten,” she said after an awkward beat, pleased that her voice had remained steady. “Isn’t that why we have museums? To remember history we might otherwise forget?”

“Wise words, Miss Lena.” She heard him shift again and chanced another glance over her shoulder, quickly averting her eyes to the shiny waxed floor. Still there. “You a smart girl. Whatchu doin’ hidin’ away in our dusty basement for?”

“I happen to like dusty basements.” Hank gave another amused chuckle and she felt a glow of pride in her chest for a successfully landed joke. Still, she risked raising her gaze to fix him with a brief mock glare. “It’s starting to sound like you’re trying to get rid of me, Hank.”

His smile was bright and encompassing, taking years from his weathered appearance. “And miss our talks?”

Her own laugh was genuine. “Highlight of my day. Night, Hank.” She twiddled her fingers at him over her shoulder, finally unsticking her feet to walk forward.

“Night, Miss Lena. You be safe gettin’ home now!”

He’d said the exact thing to her every night since she’d started, first as a volunteer, before slowly carving out a job position for herself. On paper, she was an Assistant Curator. Never mind the fact that the museum already had one. In actuality, she was a walking, talking, living archive. She kept a record of every single piece that passed through the doors, displayed or not, all inside her head. And she spent her days in the basement, cataloging the mismatched mess of abandoned items. Mary, the museum’s actual curator, had told her that most of what was down there had been for the better part of twenty years, and that despite working there for nearly thirty five herself, even she wasn’t positive on what all it contained.

The basement itself spanned the entirety of the upper floors, and in her own four years of her self-appointed project, she’d organized maybe a third of it. For every new thing she discovered down there, days of research followed in an attempt to learn everything she could. And some things...some things she simply couldn’t resist touching with bare hands.

They spoke to her when she did that. Shared their stories through impressions and still images in her head. The more history an object held, the more it would tell her. But opening herself up to them also invited the ghosts.

They never stayed for long— thankfully –and they never acknowledged her, too busy reenacting events that had been stored inside, but their presence was...unsettling, at best. And since she’d been unable to ignore the call, brushing a single, ungloved finger over one of the dingy medals, she now had the haggard ghost of a young soldier unknowingly dogging her steps.

From the brief glance she’d gotten at his first startling appearance, it was clear that he’d gone through something heavily traumatic. There was a reason she made a point to not touch items she knew to be from wartimes. A notion she had idiotically disregarded upon finding the lockbox.

Her unwanted companion dragged silently behind her, despite the heavy limp he now held from his plainly broken leg. His clothes were dirty and torn, hair in a complete disarray and patchy stubble hiding what had once been a youthful face. But it was the eyes that stuck with her, visible even when she closed her own. They were wild and empty at the same time, giving him a constant feral expression. The way his irises had shifted the room, seeing untold horrors invisible to her, had made her heart throb. Whatever incident had earned him that medal couldn’t have been worth it.

He was still there when she stopped in her building’s lobby to check her mailbox. It was always empty, but she still checked it every day.

“Empty again, pet?” She would have started at the voice of her neighbor, Mrs. Boyle, had she not been expecting it. For months now, she’d been catching Lena in the lobby after work, trying to convince her to go on a date with her grandson. She frowned. Maybe she ought to consider forgoing the mailbox. “No letters from home?”

Her frown twisted into a reluctant fond smile. “Most people don’t write letters anymore.”

She’d hoped it would be enough of a deflection and she could make her escape, but Mrs. Boyle wasn’t going to let her off easy tonight, it seemed. The soldier made a sharp, jerking movement, mouth wide in an unheard scream of agony. She hurriedly reverted her attention back to her nosy neighbor. “You do. Every morning. I see you drop a letter in the box when you leave, when I take Starla out.” Her expression was nearly one of pity. “They don’t write back?”

“I never expect them to.” She left it at that, climbing the stairs, her war-torn ghost trailing after her. “Have a good night, Mrs. Boyle.”

Lena knew that, one day, her carefully practiced aversions would no longer be enough. But how could she possibly confess to the woman that she wrote letters to the dead? She was aware that it was an odd practice, even by her own standards.

She spent her days surrounded by the left behind belongings of those who’ve passed on, items that have slipped through cracks of time, hidden from the world and consigned to oblivion. However, Lena’s ability granted her the unique opportunity to rectify. By opening herself up to the various articles, gleaning what she could and piecing together all the little bits, she’d been able to identify original owners, and eventually, their final resting places. Then, she would write to them, explaining who she was, and what she did.

Logically, she knew it was a silly thing to do. The people she wrote to were long departed, mere bones and ash beneath the earth. There was no one to read her letters, let alone respond to them. But was almost cathartic, in its own way. And there was naïve hope she carried in her ever-bleeding heart that she was somehow making a difference. That maybe, just maybe, the dead would know that they hadn’t been forgotten. That she would remember them, even if no one else did.

Her keys hitting the counter was harsh in the otherwise quiet of her apartment, sliding across the already scratched up worktop. Haphazardly strewn papers and research books on loan from the library littered most of the island, the odd mug of half-finished tea squeezed in wherever she’d managed to find room. A chaotic, disorganized mess to anyone that wasn’t her. Despite the clutter, she knew the exact location of anything she might need.

Her ghostly compatriot lingered near the paint chipped door, his visage wavering at the edges as he wordlessly shouted orders to comrades she could not see. He would be gone soon enough, and she would finally, truly be alone.

Well, aside from Carlyle, her lone fish.

Lena had attempted introducing friends to him at one point, but it hadn’t ended well. Which she could definitely sympathize with. Granted, he’d eaten all of his tankmates. She was just terribly inexperienced when it came to dealing with people. And given that she could hardly stomach eating animals, she didn’t think she was in any danger of suddenly developing a desire for human flesh.

“And how was your day, Mr. Carlyle?” she asked the striped blur zooming around the tank. She paused, canting her head as though listening intently to his reply. “Well, that sounds absolutely riveting. You certainly know how to live life to the fullest, my friend.”

Resting her chin in her palm as she rested her elbow on the countertop, her soft eyes tracked Carlyle’s wild movements as he weaved in and out of the decorations she’d placed for him without a care in the world. There were times in her life where she was almost...envious of him. How nice it must be, to be able to pass from day to day without worry or responsibility. But even Lena knew that such an existence would be terribly dull. For all her oddities and peculiarities, she was not immune to the plight of dullness.

“They reported another sighting,” she told her fish, blowing her short bangs from her eyes. They immediately fell back into the same place. “Just a glimpse. Some hotel in Calgary. It’s the first one since D.C.”

For all that she loved history, in all its forms, Lena Taggerty held one specific area in the highest of regards.

She loved the conspiracy theories of history. The ghost stories. The unknowns and unanswered questions. Endless mysteries, all waiting to be unraveled by her fingertips.

After the events that had transpired in Washington D.C., just two months before, events that even Lena— disconnected from the modern world as she was —caught wind of, had brought forth whispers of what was, arguably, the greatest historical ghost story of them all, and had her nearly chomping at the bit.

The Winter Soldier.

A topic of much controversy on the forums she’d frequented since learning the name. Some believed that it was a title, passed on throughout the decades, making it appear as though the same man haunted behind the scenes of the criminal underground over several lifetimes. Others claimed it was a group, operating under one name so as to keep their identities and intentions secret. And others still believed that the Winter Soldier wasn’t a man at all, but an idea. A violent threat used to inspire fear and upset.

The only thing that anyone seemed to agree on was that whoever the man from D.C. had been, Winter Soldier or otherwise, was extraordinarily dangerous. A fighter of immense skill, based on what little footage had been recovered. Not someone to be trifled with. And definitely not someone’s radar you wanted to be on.

Lena was fascinated. Truly, utterly, fascinated.

The story of the Winter Soldier was possibly the biggest unknown mystery on Earth at the moment. There was virtually nothing on the man, and what she’d managed to uncover at first often contradicted itself. Nearly every time, in fact. Almost as though someone were purposefully trying to spread misinformation. Which, naturally, only made her all the more curious.

Her secret pet project. A mystery no one had been able to solve. One that, until recently, most didn’t even know existed.

Though not owning a computer of her own, she’d spent hours at the local library, pouring over the recently declassified files that had been leaked online in the wake of D.C. Admittedly, most of what she’d read in those early days had gone straight over her head. Anything that sparked a note of interest, but wasn’t relevant to her current investigation, was printed off to be carefully filed away for a later date. It was this exact practice that had led to her accidental breakthrough.

For weeks, she and the internet alike lamented over the lack of information regarding the Winter Soldier. He was well and truly a ghost, even among the organization that employed him. The name hadn’t been found in any of the examined files at the time, and users on the forums were frustrated over it, Lena among them. She found it difficult to believe that of all the thousands of documents now accessible to the general public, not a single one mentioned him.

The answer had come to her late one night, as she’d lied in bed, unable to sleep.

What if he went by a different name?

It was the internet that had dubbed him The Winter Soldier, taken from long ago leaked files, back before the internet had really taken hold. So, it wouldn’t make much sense for that to be the one appearing in the documents. With a renewed sense of purpose, she abandoned any and all idea of sleep that night, pouring over her printouts for anything that might smack of the person she was looking for. And on the second night, she’d found it, while reading a mission report recounting the successful termination of a target by ‘the asset’.

She’d read a similar report before, of a failed mission that had been compromised by the Winter Soldier.

By the asset.

Lena had returned to the library early the next morning, having not slept, and armed with her find. Now that she knew what to look for, she’d ended up with hundreds of hits, file upon file upon file that had ‘the asset’ sprinkled liberally throughout. She’d saved every single document it appeared in— regardless of whether or not she understood it or even knew the language.

She’d since added learning Russian to her to-do list.

Settling down on the one cushion of her secondhand couch that wasn’t covered with her research, she shoveled a forkful of instant noodles into her mouth, breathing in sharply as she stupidly burned herself in her haste. Balancing the foam up on the arm of the couch, she reached for a stack of papers she’d printed off days before.

They looked to be mission reports of some nature, different from the ones she’d encountered before in that they were inordinately coded and completely in Russian. Much of the top page was scored with thick black lines, and the same heavy redaction treatment appeared on the subsequent pages. Resting the Russian/English dictionary she’d checked out on one knee and a spiral notebook on the other, she picked up where she’d left off the night before in translating the documents.

From what she’d had so far, which wasn’t much thanks to an unfamiliar alphabet and more than half of the information missing, ‘the asset’ had been dispatched to an undisclosed city in Belgium at some point in 1977 to retrieve an unnamed scientist of some import. Extraction had gone smoothly, with the intended target being delivered with only minimal injury to his person.

Blowing her cheeks out in exasperation, she stretched cramping fingers and shook out her hand. The only genuinely useful information was that he’d been in Belgium in ‘77. She circled both findings as a reminder to add them to her timeline map and flipped to the next file to begin the process again.

Lena worked well into the night, her meager dinner all but forgotten. She’d finished translating three and a half documents before her eyes grew too heavy to continue, burning with gritty sand every time she blinked. Digging her palms into them, and dislodging her reading glasses in the process, her groan was pained as she unbent her stiff legs.

Stumbling her way to the bedroom, she barely managed to chuck her glasses on the end table by her alarm clock before collapsing on top of the covers with another groan. She was asleep within seconds.

She did not dream.

✪ Chapter Two ->

#ghost in your eye #it's tortured white boi hours 24/7 here

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silverdrip · 7 years

Text

Mad House (Frostiron)

@teckmonky I was inspired by your Wine Mom Loki~

@frost-iron

It had been eight years since the disastrous Civil War, seven since Tony quit being an Avenger, and three since the accords were ratified to Steve’s liking and the rogue Avengers came back.

But without Tony as an Avenger and with the US garnishing their wages to pay reparations to all the people they’d hurt and infrastructure they damaged during the Civil War, money was tight.

The Avengers couldn’t afford the upkeep or rent for the Avengers Compound. The cost for jet fuel for the quinjets was mind blowing. Their gear was falling apart and they didn’t have enough money to get specialists to fix them.

So Steve was going to Tony, hat in hand.

They hadn’t spoken since Steve reached out to him when the accords had been ratified, and when he had Tony had brushed him off, stating he didn’t have time for empty apologies. Steve bit back his anger and tried to convince him to join the Avengers again, but Tony told him the group wasn’t worth his time.

It was a bit embarrassing to ask him for money, but not as bad as when he’d been a dancing monkey raising war bonds.

Stark Tower seemed to loom over him with a malicious glare.

All the windows had been tinted, making it harder to look through them from the outside.

As Steve walked into the lobby he gawped at the new design. He could only describe it as razor sharp and intimidating.

It clashed with the wholesome look that Steve favored.

He was so caught up in his staring that he didn’t notice the adolescent girl that was nearing him.

She was walking backwards and flipping off the cameras. She walked straight into Steve and spun around.

“Watch it, fuck face!” she said loudly, making Steve reel backwards. She stormed off before he could formulate a response.

(More under the cut)

Steve stood frozen in place. There was something familiar about her, something that set Steve on edge, but he couldn’t identify what it was.

Steve brushed off the feeling, figuring it was just his nerves making him see things.

There was no one at the receptionist desk, but there was a little push button bell. He glanced around before pushing it.

A swirl of pink and orange appeared behind the desk before forming a holographic woman. She was wearing a pink, high collared dress that made her look professional. Her read hair was cut in an asymmetric bob, and her expression was bored.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked and Steve recognized her voice.

“Friday?” he asked.

“That’s me, unless you’re referring to the date. In which case I feel obliged to tell you it’s Wednesday.” There was something teasing in her voice, almost mocking. Steve didn’t rise to the bait. Apparently, she was still mad about the Civil War nonsense.

“Can I just see Tony?” Steve asked, trying not to let his impatience show.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but—”

“Let me see if you’re on the list of people who are always welcome.” A pink holographic tablet popped into existence. Friday scrolled through it, putting on a show. “Nope, no Steve Rogers on the list.”

Friday disappeared.

Steve took in a slow, calming breath. After a beat, he pressed the bell again.

“Do you have an appointment?” Friday asked right away. “Oh, it’s you. Would you like to schedule an appointment? Boss will be free on,” Friday paused, “the 17th,” Steve grinned that was today, “of December,” Friday tacked on. That was over four months away.

“Can you just call Tony? I’m sure he’d be willing to see me.” Why did all of Tony’s AIs have to be so damn difficult?

“Hmm, I’ll give him a call.” Friday raises her hand to the side of her face as a holographic version of the latest Stark Phone appears. “Hey Boss.” There was a pause. “No, Hela left about three minutes ago. She was totally in a mood.” Friday giggled. “Yes, of course. Actually, I called because a gorilla named Steve Rogers is requesting to see you.” Friday swept her eyes over Steve, making him feel self-conscious. “I don’t know.” She pursed her lips. “Fine.” The phone pixilated into nothingness. “Mr. Rogers, please take the elevator to your right.”

He entered the elevator mid-song.

♪ Fuck you (fuck you) Fuck you very, very much Cause we hate what you do And we hate your whole crew So please don't stay in touch ♫

Steve had no doubt that Friday had chosen the song.

The elevator opened and Steve cringed at the loud music that was coming from Tony’s lab. It was another of those rock and roll songs Steve didn’t understand.

The door to the lab was open and as Steve walked in he froze in the doorway. The first thing he that caught his attention was a large, plastic castle—and the three children who were peeking out from it to look at him.

There was also a dragon about the size of a cat. A tiny boy with brown hair and green eyes was carrying it around as the dragon let out annoyed screeching noises.

A little girl was sitting at a desk near the other kids, drawing with crayons, but from what Steve could see it looked like a schematic.

A strange animal Steve couldn’t identify, almost a cross between an antelope and a cheetah, was sleeping in a hammock, its ears twitching ever so often.

Was Tony doing some weird animal experimentation? Steve had a scolding on the tip of his tongue, but held it back. He needed to ingratiate himself to Tony.

Steve finally spotted Tony among the chaos. He was concentrating on some device he was putting together.

There was a green goo with three eyes on his head and mixed in Tony’s hair.

Steve balked as he tried to make sense of it all.

“Rogers,” Tony greeted as the music turned down. He didn’t look away from the device he was working on. “What do you want?”

Steve walked over to him, avoiding the toys and machine bits that littered the ground.

“Hey, Tony. How are you doing?” Steve asked, trying to be pleasant. The goo on Tony’s head eyed him, making Steve uncomfortable.

Two of the kids in the castle tumbled out, wresting each other.

“No rough housing,” Tony called out, not even having to look at them.

“But daaaaaaaddd,” one whined. She ran over and clutched dirty jeans. “Daaaaaadddd!”

“Go to the gym if you must. The floor is padded for a reason.

The little girl squeaked happily.

“Astrid! Let’s go!” The other girl ran over and the little boy with the dragon toddled after them, sucking his thumb.

“Tadashi,” a blue hologram of a young Japanese man appeared, “can you make sure they don’t try to take apart the treadmill again?”

“Yeah, I’ll look after those knuckleheads.”

The hologram adjusted his baseball cap before walking after the three children.

Steve laughed feebly.

“I see you’ve made another AI.” Steve tried to sound friendly, but the way Tony glared at him made it clear it hadn’t worked. “Whose kids are these and was that a dragon?”

“Obviously, they’re mine. And Sapphy is a wyvern. What do you want?” Before Steve could respond Tony snapped his fingers. “Third strike, Glub!” The goo on Tony’s head convulsed. “I told you not to try and eat my earwax, but you did it anyway. Go tell your mother what you did.”

“Glub, glub, glub,” the goo said, belching out the words.

“No arguing, youngling.” The goo rounded into a ball and bounced off Tony’s head. It started rolling to the elevator, one eye staring back at them, somehow looking regretful. “Children these days,” Tony said to himself.

There was a loud hissing and Steve jumped backwards as a giant snake appeared from beneath the table.

Tony ran his hand over the snake’s head.

“Not, you Jor. You’re daddy’s little angel,” Tony crooned. The snake rested its head on Tony’s lap, barely able to fit. Tony snapped his fingers again. “What do you want, Rogers?”

“Oh, uhm, you see the thing is,” damn, Steve had rehearsed this, but the words came out as a jumble, “the Avengers’ wages are being garnished, except for Wasp’s and T’Challa’s, so things are a little tight and—”

“Are you asking for money?”

Steve’s face reddened. He looked at the ground despite himself.

Tony let out a sigh that was half annoyed, half tired.

“I leave the finances to my husband. You’ll have to ask him.” Tony patted Jor on the head and the snake retracted, curling up back under the table. “Babies! We’re going upstairs!”

There were a few grumbles.

One child who couldn’t be older than three went down the slide in the castle with an infant that looked like he could barely walk. The weird antelope-cheetah thing gracefully got out of the hammock and trotted over to them.

A green bat, fell from the ceiling. The skin that made up its wings was iridescent. It fluttered over to Tony before latching onto his earlobe. Steve would have mistaken it for a gaudy earring if it wasn’t blinking its green eyes.

“Daddy, can I stay? I wanna finish my design.” She looked up at him with big brown eyes.

“You can work on it upstairs. You know the rules. No little ones in the lab without my supervision.” The little girl grumbled to herself. She shut her crayon box loudly and gathered up a sheaf of paper before stomping over to the waiting elevator.

Tony went over and picked up the infant. The chubby cheeked girl tried to grab the bat, but Tony quickly switched which side she was on.

The infant tried to reach across him, but Tony grabbed her hand and pretended to eat it. She let out a shrill giggle that made Steve wince.

In the elevator, the antelope-cheetah leaned against Tony’s legs and Tony absentmindedly petted it between its ears.

Steve laughed nervously again.

“I didn’t know you had kids or that you were married.”

Tony gave him another sharp look.

“You should really watch the news.”

“Daddy, what’s for dinner? Can we have pasta?” one of the kids asked.

“Uncle Rhodey is coming over tonight so me and mommy will—”

“Mommy and I,” the little girl with the schematic corrected.

“Mommy and I,” Tony exaggerated while smiling, “will be having dinner with him. You munchkins will have whatever Kamala makes or orders in.”

“Sis-Fri, can you ask Kammy to make us sgetti tonight?”

“Will do, bugga-boo,” Friday said, not manifesting.

The rest of elevator ride was uncomfortable, or at least uncomfortable for Steve.

When the elevator doors opened Steve was greeted by more childish shrieks and laughter.

It was a madhouse. There was a mixture of children from a baby that was crawling around to a seven-year-old that was hitting the couch repeatedly with a whiffle bat. Among them was an assortment of creatures, half of which Steve didn’t recognize.

He gaped as an eight-legged horse shifted into a human teenager.

“Mom said I can get my learner’s permit if you promise to teach me to drive,” the teenager said, shifting on his (now) two feet as if he could barely contain himself.

“Teach you how to drive?” Tony scoffed. “I’m going to teach you how to zoom through traffic! Stick shift smoothly and pick up all the babes!” Tony reached over and ruffled his hair. The teenager blushed. “We’ll go at five. That should give me enough time to get back before Uncle Rhodey gets here. That work for you, Sleph?”

Sleph grinned brightly and gave Tony a hug. He took the infant from Tony’s arms and walked to the kitchen.

“You didn’t tell me we were having guests!” a voice screeched out and Steve froze when he saw Loki.

Tony chuckled and went over to the standing god. He gave him a kiss on the cheek. Tony leaned down to the sling around Loki’s middle that was carrying an egg that was as large as a basketball. Tony gave it a kiss.

Loki shifted his glass of wine (didn’t he know it was only ten in the morning?) to his other hand before swatting Tony on the shoulder.

“Anthony, you will give me proper advanced notice next time you bring someone over. I’m not dressed properly!” Loki tried smoothing down his long, frazzled hair, but it only caused something that looked like applesauce to smear. “Oh, it’s just him.”

Loki smoothly sat down on a couch. He shooed away the child that was hitting it with a whiffle bat. Something under Loki’s shirt shifted and Steve was reminded of the movie where aliens burst from humans’ chests.

Instead, a little black kitten poked its head out. Its mouth was wet with white liquid.

“Mommy,” the kitten said, surprising Steve for what felt like the hundredth time that day, “Sirkka keeps biting my tail!”

Loki pulled open the collar of his shirt and looked down it.

“That’s it! I’m weaning you two off! Out, out, out!”

“Noooooo!” twin voice cried out from Loki’s shirt.

Steve’s face screwed up at the absurdity of the situation.

“You heard your mother,” Tony said in a firm voice that Steve had never heard before. “Out before I pick you up by your scruffs.”

Two kittens, one black and the other brown hopped out of Loki’s shirt and onto the egg. One jumped into a bassinet that Steve hadn’t noticed before. The blue baby inside of it started crying.

Loki took a large gulp of wine and easily rocked the bassinet with his foot. The baby quieted down instantly.

Loki sighed happily.

“My babies are so perfect.” Loki took a sip of wine, his eyes glimmering with contentment.

“Our children are hellspawn,” Tony said while smirking.

“You and Loki are…” Steve couldn’t say the word.

“Do you seriously not watch the news?” Two children went by them, screaming bloody murder. Loki and Tony ignored them. “Whatever. Lokes, did Glubbington tell you what ze did?”

“No, ze did not! Glubbington, get in here!” Loki shouted, making Steve flinch.

“Ohhhh, someone’s in trouble~” a kid called out and a few others snickered.

The goo from before rolled in.

“Glub, glub,” it belched out and once again Steve was amazed by how much emotion it could convey. It somehow sounded remorseful.

“A likely story.” Loki held out his glass and Tony absentmindedly filled it with wine that Steve was certain cost more than a house. “Go to your room. You’re in charge of cleaning the bathrooms for a week.” The goo made a raspberry noise.

“No backtalk, youngling,” Tony said sharply, not raising his voice. Glubbington rolled off, but not before making a farting noise. Tony shook his head. “I swear he gets his attitude from you, Lokes.”

“Ha! As if!” Loki drank more of his wine. “What brings you to our humble tower, fellow-former-criminal?” Loki had a shit-eating grin and was still rocking the bassinet with his foot. The other kitten curled up on top of the egg, glaring at Steve the whole time.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to get his bearings. He was here for a reason.

He turned to Tony.

“Ah, yes, you see the thing is—”

“Talk to Loki. He’s in charge of finances even though I’m the one who makes all the money.” Tony sat on the couch by Loki and one of the kids threw herself onto his lap. He winced, but didn’t say anything, bouncing her on his knee.

Steve cleared his throat and turned to Loki, who somehow looked even more condescending than before.

“The Avengers are having a tough time with maintaining our gear and keeping the quinjet battle ready. The US hasn’t been helping up monetarily since the accords were put in place and with the different superhero teams around the world we only get a small fraction of what the UN pays.” Steve didn’t bring up how their wages were being garnished, too embarrassed to admit it. “I was hoping that Tony could find it in his heart to help us keep the US and the world safe by investing in us.”

“Such a pretty speech.” Loki put a hand on his chest and made a flourishing motion with his wine glass. “As a US citizen and citizen of the world I am moved.” Loki took a sip of his wine and seemed to be thinking it over. “That’s why Tony and I decided to invest in the Atlantic coast Avengers. We find Captain Marvel and her team to be much more reliable and exactly what the US needs what with all these new ‘villains’, but if you were perhaps to kneel and beg me on your knees I could allocate a few million for your team.”

Steve’s jaw automatically set stubbornly before he made himself breathe in through his nose. This wasn’t about Steve’s pride or Loki’s twisted sense of humor. Steve was doing this for his team. For America.

Steve went down onto his knees. Loki leaned forward looking more like the villain Steve had fought in Stuttgart.

“Please, Loki, can you find it in your heart to invest in me and my team?” Steve said through clenched teeth.

“Hmm,” Loki rubbed his jaw in thought. “Nope!”

There was a howl of laughter before Steve was teleported to the sidewalk outside of the tower.

#my writing #frostiron #Parent Tony Stark #Parent Loki #Oneshot

615 notes · View notes

scriptmin · 7 years

Text

Morning Dew [Pt.1]

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | TBA

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Angst, violence, Tokyo Ghoul AU | Length: 5k

Summary: Tokyo had become a city far too dangerous to call home after the appearance of a mysterious man in white had flipped your world upside down, yet with the way society abominated your kind, was it truly safe anywhere at all?

"Y/N." Run! Don't stop! "Y/N?" Don't turn around, sweetheart, it's okay, don't look at daddy. "Y/N!" "God—fuck!"

A pair of charcoal eyes stared back at you, guarded and alert, from over your head. Recognition was an instant signal to quell the stutter of your heartbeat, releasing tension in muscles conditioned into immediate flight response. You had attempted to thrust your torso into an upright position, but the constriction of your abdominal muscles had brought about a merciless stab of pain from the center of your stomach, the hissing from your lips striking your companion to attention.

“Easy there.” You allowed him to lift you up, propping a pillow against which you could then rest. When you settled, a breath of relief heaved, the man had flipped the covers off your waist, a set of gentle and versed hands lifting the cotton material of your t-shirt to reveal layers and layers of bandages wrapped around your stomach. He took one look at the wound and pursed his lips. “You've bled out of your bandages.”

“Is it the start or the end?” You had articulated this phrase with utmost weariness, lithe fingers combing through the messy locks of hair as you stifled a lion’s yawn.

The room which you had occupied for the last half year was flooded in orange, warm autumn rays pouring from the single grimy window fixed in the rightmost wall. The irregularities of your sleep schedule had skewed your perception of dawn and dusk, your eyes could no longer differentiate between the twilights—there was no meaning in keeping time when one had nothing to look forward to.

There was only the start or the end. Days were short when you lived in the seconds.

“The start,” your companion replied evenly, hunching down to the floor where he had carefully picked up a plastic box. The cool touch of metal met raw skin, bandages splitting apart between sharp blades. The man took a moment to examine it before concluding, “You’re healing, but not fast enough. I’ll dress your wounds again and get you something to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.”

The man grinned, permitted you a tight-lipped scoff as he clipped a ball of cotton, drenched in saline solution, and swiped across the gnarly slash. The motion was careless, just a precaution—your body’s healing capacity would do the work. Nonetheless, it made you wince, but your pride forbade you from showing more. He was laughing now, quietly, under his breath. “I'm doing this for myself because I can't deal with your temper tantrums when you're hungry,” he said, unwinding a fresh roll of bandages.

The events of last night returned as your gaze trailed from one end of the half-healed slash across your stomach to the other. It had to be at least six inches. Substantial damage, but insignificant against the victory it had earned you regardless.

You had a list of names. Names that you struck out every so often when you returned home and took off your gloves and mask. And then you would turn on the television, and watch

“The discovery of the body of First Class Senior Investigator Takamura Ken in downtown Tokyo earlier this morning marks yet another case of Ghoul-related murder within the CCG. The body was discovered hanging from a brick wall in an alley just five minutes away from the organization’s Japan headquarters. Victim autopsies thus far present an absence of flesh consumption, yet similar saliva samples from previous cases have been found littered throughout the crime scene. Findings from this case have further cemented the CCG's belief that these crude murders are orchestrated by a single Ghoul, whom they have termed the 'Orphan'. As of this morning, the district danger level has been raised to Amber, citizens are advised to stay indoors after nightfall and to always travel in company…”

Things had been incredibly surreal—the look on his face when you had pulled your mask and greeted him with a claw to his guts, the adrenaline searing your skin as you parried every whip and lunge of his quinque with effortless grace. You knew he had learned you were no longer the newly awakened Ghoul he met when he tore your father away from you. No longer weak, oppressed, defenseless.

“You're doing it again. Your little psycho grin.”

Taehyung had clipped the end of your fresh bandages, finishing up his work with experienced dexterity. Soon the first aid kit in his hands was replaced by a very familiar pairing: a set of black leather gloves and a mask. It should be ironic how tormented Taehyung looked each time he put it on, yet it was also he who had an entire closet of cover-ups in his room. In the beginning you found it laughable how his skill in juggling his identity as Ghoul and Human had conflicted so deeply with the peacekeeping nature he was so adamant in preaching, but the more times you watched him slip that mask over his face, the more it started to feel like letting him put a noose around his own neck.

Taehyung liked to claim he was a pacifist. When he came to your doorstep answering a roommate ad you had put out three summers ago, his gentle nature was practically oozing out from the pores on his skin. Then much shorter, thinner, a greasy mop of black sitting atop a body of immaculate golden skin, the boy appeared to you exactly that—a mere boy.

You had done everything in your power to conceal your true nature, spending the first four months barely exchanging words, barely crossing paths despite being cooped in the same two-room flat. He worked days, and you worked nights—you’d be in only after he left the house. But one morning, one morning he had caught you at the doorstep laying in a pool of your own blood, and all you could think about as he silently tended to your wounds was finding the least painful way to kill him in order to keep your secret.

Obviously, there had been no need to carry out those plans.

Taehyung might have called himself a pacifist now, but his skills in a hunt had far surpassed that for mere survival. He was a killer through and through. What his past had encompassed before your encounter with him was a series of events you weren't always privy to, but considering what the two of you were, a history of bloodshed and murder wasn't something all too farfetched. What mattered was that when he had learned of your true commitments in the night, he was the one who offered to help.

“You realise, don't you,” Taehyung began as he slipped on his leather gloves, “that they call you the Orphan because they've figured out your motives. And that relying on the mere fact that they don't know your face is incredibly risky, not to mention stupid.”

You watched him pull the material first over his left hand, pull and strap, then over his right, pull and strap, before your line of sight had trailed up his chest to meet with his own stern gaze, the chocolate in his eyes warm, but the resolve, cold.

“I want them to know it's me. I want the remaining few to live in fear, wondering who’s next, counting the days, watching their back.” Although painful, you had winced your way through the shifting of your posture as you sank back down onto the mattress, pulling the covers back over your body. Taehyung appeared resigned, his head shaking. You smiled in response. “Just like they did to me.”

The man ceased to reply, merely bending down to pick his mask off the edge of your bed, slipping it over his head with robotic rigidity. Only then had he acknowledged you, his head turning in slow motion to expose a face of pure white, a crazed, cheshire grin on one half, and a devilish scowl on the other, two faces that connected seamlessly at the middle. It was Taehyung’s first and favorite mask.

Muted and muffled, but not any less distinct to your ears, his voice came, “Revenge is yours. But first, breakfast.”

Life without the mask was as normal as it could get. You bussed tables at a diner during the day, came home for the afternoon, then served drinks at a pub by night. You visited the same places, saw the same people, walked the same routes, but on some days, you met with a man named Namjoon, and these days were always different from the rest.

“You know I'm the best in town, Y/N, but these kids that you're looking for—nada. Nothing. It's like they don't even exist.”

You'd think you would be used to it by now, but the disappointment always found a way to wring your heart dry of whatever hope it had left. And you'd think that by now, there wouldn't even be anything left of it, the years go by and the memory fades, yet you always found a way to keep hoping despite the odds.

A conclusion of this nature was disappointing, yes, but not entirely unprecedented. You had met with countless private detectives, trackers, hackers, human traffickers, orphanage directors, dug through hospitals, mortuaries, columbariums, graveyards, but there was absolutely, utterly, nothing left of the children you once knew. No bodies. No records. The twins were just—gone.

But to be hearing the same damn thing from Kim Namjoon certainly pegged you a whole new level of let down. To those in the know, he was the best there was; an engineering student by day, pro-gamer by night, and world class hacker to those who found him at the right time. It had been no easy feat trying to get to him, a man masked by so many rumours that he had felt like a children’s fable. Comforting, but far from believable.

You had found him nonetheless. And for the past three months he had been working to find even the tiniest traces of activity from the twins, but it was clear even the best of the best always had someone better.

“Why do you think they don't have records? I mean, isn't it hard to wipe themselves off the radar? They were just village kids, awfully passive, the way I remember them.”

The man had polished off the last of his strawberry milkshake, but had remained faithful to his straw, lips noisily sucking in the last drops at the bottom of the cup. His coal-black irises stared out the glass beyond the booth you were seated at, occasionally shifting to accommodate the trail of movement of the people and sights he found interesting.

Finally, he returned to you. “Not unless they had help. Even if they changed names, their old ones would still be attached in the records. The fact that it's not there can only mean someone helped them erase it, you need connections for that. Civil service. Maybe after they got lost, someone found them and…”

“And we can't find them unless we find the hypothetical person who found them first.” You had sunk your face into your palm, exhaustion and exasperation catching up with you all at once. “I haven't the slightest clue where they could have run off to, and considering our circumstances back then, neither did they. It's impossible, isn't it?”

Namjoon pushed his beverage away, leaning forward until his face was close enough for you want to pull back. Gaze darting around the café, he carefully whispered, “you said you were running from the CCG, didn't you? What if the CCG caught up to them?”

“Then I would've known by now,” you fired back. The man across you had flinched, startled by the proximity at which your response had been delivered none too quietly to the bed of his ear. “Those people have no use for us alive. Ghoul—” you halted yourself, breath hitched in your throat, and then brought your voice down to discretion, “Ghoul or not, they'd kill us. They murdered the humans that were with us because they were with us, you think they'd let us live a minute extra if we were in their hands?”

Namjoon visibly gulped. “I'm sorry. I- I could never imagine, I…” He had enough sense to catch himself rambling, then sighed heavily as his eyes shut for a few seconds. “Maybe we've just been looking in the wrong places. Maybe some rich guy picked them up and gave them new identities. We could look there.”

“What if we don't find anything even then?”

“Then… let’s hope they're looking for you too.”

“Grilled squid to table five! … Grilled- Mizu! What are you doing!”

A jarring hammer had slammed into the space where a hurricane was just swirling in your skull. Your limbs reacted first, carrying you swiftly to the station where your supervisor stood, frowning at you over the bowl of squid. Preoccupied by the meeting with Namjoon, the faux name you were wise enough to go by in order to better conceal your identity had nearly fallen out of memory.

When you scurried over at last, taking the bowl into your grasp, an apology was murmured and you briskly returned to the floor, unwilling to linger long enough to give the senior an opportunity to chastise you. From the bar, you caught Taehyung’s gaze, his eyes conveying concern as he polished his glasses. You didn't quite acknowledge him as you entered the nightmare that was the main floor, filled with howling laughter, drunken cheers, brusque shouting, and rude hollering, as the other servers scuttled back and forth between the narrow aisles. Across you, a meaty hand had landed a crisp “smack!” on your colleague’s ass, and your eyes narrowed. The woman, however, only brushed the violation off with a grimace. These things happened often, you were no exception, it just wasn't worth the fight anymore.

“Your order, sir, ma'am.”

From the moment they walked in, the twosome at this table was quite a peculiar pair. Throughout the entire evening, they never spoke often, much less moved an inch out of their seats like the other customers milling about. The female, petite, wrapped in a shimmering pearlescent dress, had her eyes on the little rectangular device in her hand, scrolling infinitely through some online material. The male sat statue-like across her, slouched lazily against the upholstered booth seat, legs splayed, one finger tracing the rim of his beer, the other arm resting idly in his lap. Despite not being able to see his eyes under his cap, the angle of his face outwards was surely to observe the crowd beyond.

The indifference practically radiating between these two didn't strike you as people on a date, yet to peg them as siblings, they were much too quiet, almost tense. When you first brought them their beers, the woman had acknowledged you with a nod. Now as you delivered their snack, it was the man who offered a hushed thanks.

“You're welcome.” You inclined your head politely, then spun on your heels to serve the next customer. But just as you had turned, the man raised his arm, signaling you.

“I'm not sure if you can help but… I’m actually looking for someone,” he began, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, passport-size photo of a middle aged man. He lifted it towards you. “I haven't heard from him in a few days, but he's supposed to visit this bar quite often. I was wondering if you've seen him recently?”

Despite the answer ready to fire on your tongue, your eyes couldn't help but take in the face in the photo. You almost choked on the words, but composure ultimately got the best of you, and you steeled your gaze back to the man. “No, I don't think I have.”

The man tucked the photo away. “But you're not saying you don't recognize him?”

“I may or may not. Look, a lot of people come here. If you're asking for more than what you're appearing to, I suggest you go someplace else. We don't sell information at this bar.”

“Obviously you don't sell women either,” his words formed shackles around your legs, halting your footsteps, your spine prickling with heat, “but pinching from the cookie jar can be looked over, huh?”

Anger flickered in your throat, sparking on your tongue as you turned around once more. Infuriatingly, the woman was still attached to her phone, the man’s face still vague under the shadow of his cap. You were forced to swallow down multiple offenses working here, some lumps bigger than others, bigger than this, so your voice had come out restrained, cool, but terse: “Sorry but I can't help you.”

Large, purposeful strides carried you away not a moment longer. You'd dumped your tray at the station, sparing only a careless glance at your surroundings before stalking to the bar where Taehyung stood, his gaze back on you, this time a little more curious than worried.

“What's wrong?” His lips quirked, entertained by the fuming on your face. He was quick to slide you a warm cup of instant coffee, which he had perhaps prepared in expectation of your arrival. Taehyung knew you well.

“Why do we work here, Tae?” You griped spitefully, staring vehemently down at the rowdy crowd. “Why do we work here?”

The bartender merely resumed the precise arrangement of his shot glasses, sparkling like crystals under the mini spotlights hanging over the bar, and chuckled softly at your rhetorical rant. Clearly he needed more work to do around here. “Because this is an info hub. We hear things that might be useful to us. And also because you discovered someone on your list is a frequent patron here.”

“That’s the problem,” you gritted, “Yagami hasn’t shown up for awhile.”

Taehyung lifted his head, his scope of vision sweeping across the floor thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it...”

“No, it wasn't me. I didn't realise either until a couple by the booths asked me about him.”

This caught his interest. Head tilted, he leaned towards you. “What did they say? About the guy?”

You recounted the exact words, voicing your own suspicions about his whereabouts, if he were truly missing, and the identities of the couple at the booth. Taehyung seemed to share your sentiments.

“But if he's missing,” he wondered aloud, “who has him? It's definitely not you.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if the guy has more than one Ghoul out for his head. I’m going to look into this. Nobody can have him, the inspector’s mine.”

“Mizu!” The sharp bark had made you both flinch, clearly guilty of slacking off. You sped out of the bar and back to the floor before your supervisor could say anything else.

But the questions remained, buzzing in the forefronts of your mind throughout the night. Is he really missing? If so, who took him—and why?

The air in Autumn carried a chill that bit deeper into your bones than Winter. Tangerine sidewalks and crunching twigs reminded you unfailingly of the season where everything began to fall apart. Autumn. Fall. This was a cruel joke for life to play on you, and you suffered for it without a chance of a miracle.

You remembered practically living as nomads at that time, changing dens once every few nights. Each time you had begun to sink your feet into the new environment, the authorities’ fervent pursuit would uproot everyone. None of you knew why you had to run, or anything about the people who had been chasing you. But despite being so young of age, you had all understood that running kept the family together, and you would run to the edge of the world if it meant staying together.

But it didn't take long for the authorities to get back on your trails. And that was when you lost Yoongi.

There was not one fiber in his being that warranted such a death. He was good. He was good down to his bones. But they had mistaken him for being one of you and slaughtered him when he had thrown himself between the tip of a blade and the core of your chest. You remembered a hand reaching out for you, a hand that you had forsaken to preserve your own life.

The fisherman was lost the same way some months later. It seemed as though the ones who least deserved death always threw themselves in its grasp for you. You had thought that the edge of the world was a place much further away, but when you lost even the twins, you at last realized—you had long arrived at the world’s end.

“Ohhhhhh goodness me!” A female voice groaned, relieved. “Finally out of the hellhole. I think the only good thing this job has done for me is that I never want to be near alcohol outside of that damned bar. Right, Mizu?”

Stepping out of the warmth of your workplace, you joined your colleague on the silent sidewalk, barren in the wee hours of the morning. Despite the cold, which had you wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck, you had managed to crack a smile. “Right!”

“Which way are you headed, Tanaka?” A third voice had joined the conversation, this one male and deep. Taehyung. He stood with flourish at your side, the brushing of your shoulders providing you with some of his warmth.

“Down this way. You two are headed up, aren't you?” The elder female flashed you a cheeky grin, one which both of you understood, but didn't seek to entertain. “See ya!”

You parted with lingering waves as you began the uphill trek with Taehyung. Morning air was colder, lonelier, and you struggled not to press too much against his arm. The tranquility of empty streets was a good comfort after hours of working through a racket, but the silence was also deafening, your ears buzzed and rang with excess energy.

You had walked this route with Taehyung for over a year, it was not an exaggeration to say the two of you could tell if the silence was less quiet than it usually was. You sensed things before you heard them. And this morning, something was different. You knew Taehyung could feel it too, when you had exchanged glances. Spending years on the run had filled you with paranoia, but in a strange, twisted way, it had also given you a form of immunity to being stalked—you could always tell if you had a tail.

The two of you shared conversation, made jokes, trying not to walk in total silence as you mentally confirmed the drill. There had always been time to construct escape plans. You hadn't seen the white heels of Doves in years, but you could never be too safe.

Waving goodbye at the top of the uphill walk, you and Taehyung had split ways. Figuring out their numbers was the first step. If there was just one investigator, it was easy to lose them, but this was hardly the case. CCG always sent their men out in pairs. As you turned down the left street, and Taehyung the right, slowly putting distance between your bodies, the hairs on your back stood.

This was a hunt, and for the first time since then, you were the hunted. Your fists clenched in your coat pockets, trembling half from the chill and half from the fear. Yes, you still feared—you would be wise to. You had to remember it, remember the things you felt when they began eroding away at your entire world. It would keep you anchored, keep your focus steeled on revenge. That was all you lived for—you would live for the dead.

The two sets of footsteps were unmatched, you could hear your tail’s echo after yours. A rookie, for sure, they'd be easy to lose—if you were trying to get away. You had to show them that you weren't. Taehyung had told you this, but it was a lesson you learnt long ago. The more you ran the more they'd come after you, and sooner or later you'll run out of places to go. This was their maze, their city, you were in the palm of their hands.

It was hardly just the city. You imagined it was like this all around the world. People were the same. Ghouls were the same too.

The neighbourhood had begun to look familiar. You and Taehyung had each gotten a safehouse for this precise purpose, changing it once every few months even if you hadn't gone to it. Your tail was still on you, but there was no choice but to leave them be. If they were on the passive it meant they hadn't gotten anything solid on you. A random inspection, or a move after incessant calls from a paranoid civilian.

You turned sharply into the stubby brown townhouse, hopping up the stairs with your heels on fire. A sheen of perspiration had formed on your face and neck now, and your heart raced even without ever running. Under your back, you could feel it shivering, whether in anticipation or adrenaline, you didn't know. But it was itching for a fight, blood drawing blood.

It never came. You had shut yourself behind the door of the spartan apartment, barely holding onto scraps of the nonchalant front you had so ardently maintained. The force hit you then—your head swimming in the blood rush, buzzing from realisation, recollection.

Your knees buckled, and your frame crumpled to the floor, grateful for the solidity of the ground that pulsed from your palms up your arm, cocooning you. Your chest rose and fell, lungs heaving, saliva and tears dripping from your face onto the varnished wood flooring.

They took everything and everyone away from you and they had somehow managed to keep taking more. The bodies piled higher and higher, the list of names grew shorter and shorter, and for a while there you had begun to believe that you were no longer the little girl who hid behind her father’s back, that the little girl had died along with the ones she loved.

You didn’t change anything.

Morning light trickled gently into the room, warming your skin as you sat within its soft orange beam. You were jolted from a bare wink of sleep with poundings on the door, fight instincts reacting first when your kagune had ripped through the clothes on your back, poised and sharpened, pulsing scarlet.

You felt your muscles relax after picking up on the familiar scent, retracting your weapon as you slumped towards the door. It opened, bolted, and you peeked through the crack of it.

“Tae?”

He met your eye with warmth, assurance. “You're alright.”

You gave him a single, firm nod, latching the door in its frame to pull back the bolt, soon you were descending the same flight of stairs which you had only just raced up, fearing for your life, returning to the streets of a city ignorant of your troubles.

The journey back home was quicker than your retreat to the safehouse. Your hands trembled at the keyhole, fumbling with a key you had spent half a year turning. His hand soon wrapped around yours, the familiar comforting warmth permeating your skin. With his help, the door was unlocked.

But it was not home that greeted you. It was a wreckage.

The pair of you stood frozen by the entryway, unitedly arrested by the sight that unfolded before your eyes. Unhinged drawers, strewn magazines, clothes, envelopes, raided cupboards, torn sheets, broken furniture—whatever these people were looking for, you prayed hard they didn't find it.

“The vault,” you whispered, turning to look at your companion with a crescendo of panic burning up your throat, “Taehyung, check the vault!”

The man bolted, disappearing down the hall into his bedroom. You stood numbly in the hall, scooping in the disaster that was once your home, mind reeling in nightmares, skin burning with scars from yesteryear. It was happening all over again. Uproot. Run. Settle. Uproot. There was no place you could truly call home, not in a million years.

“They didn't find it. The boards were intact, everything is accounted for, even yours. Did you leave anything important in your room?” You shook your head. “Go check it. Go.”

And you had stumbled forward, feet taking you faster and faster until you practically spilled through the bedroom door, finding the place as wrecked as the rest of the house. Anything that could compromise your identity, you kept in Taehyung’s vault, but the mess in your home was beginning to eat into your mind, and you began questioning, doubting, if you had been careless with your crimes, if the people who came had found anything on you.

“Y/N… come see this.”

Taehyung stood at the foot of your bed, staring down into the crumpled duvet. You joined him at the side, feeling your heart drop in an instant.

Along with a passport sized photo of Inspector Yagami Kensei, was a handwritten note reading: Pinches out of the cookie jar can be looked over, right?

“It's the man from last night,” you declared, feeling the echoes of your voice pulse through your ears. “He… he showed this to me, said the same thing, and he—he was… White. White clothes, th- they were Doves!”

For an excruciating moment, Taehyung said nothing, merely stared into the mess of sheets, eyes hardened, jaw clenched. And you were left with the never ending replay of last night’s conversation, the details getting further and further which each recollection. At last, the man broke his silence.

“We can't stay here. We need to go. Pack your bags. I'll get the cash—”

“Where will we go? I… I don't have anywhere else to run.”

If you were in tears, you did not feel it. There was only intense heat, burning in your stomach, burning between your ribs, your throat, the roof of your mouth. Taehyung had grabbed you by the face, firm and strict, and looked you in the eye.

“Trust me.”

#bangtan bookclub #btswriters #bangtanwriters-net #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #bts angst

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