#but c’mon guys it’s been 11 years wHERE’S MY BOYS

[lilbitofmac]

Man, I wish RDJ’s Sherlock Holmes had more fics in the fandom— the few that people have made are absolutely phenomenal, and I reread them all the time.

But god, you know what would solve this problem? IF THE THIRD MOVIE EVER CAME OUT 💀

[hxxchxn]

vodka sodas and toxic exes

haechan x reader

warnings: smut, dub!con, fem!dom, under negotiated kinks, probs other stuff

synopsis: seeing a cute younger guy at a party that you didn’t want to go to ended up better than expected

it’s 11:28 on a saturday night and there’s nowhere you wanted to be less than where you were. your friends had dragged you to johnny’s party, all because you were “sad.” you weren’t even that sad, it’s not like you cared that jaemin had dumped you two weeks ago because “you just weren’t what he was looking for. nooooooo, definitely not. okay, you were starting to see why your friends dragged you out. you still didn’t want to be there though.

so now it’s 11:31 and you’re leaning on a kitchen counter, alone, because wendy and irene all but ditched you to go make out in a corner. wallowing in your own misery, you go to make a drink, and that’s when a boy, who looks like a freshman? walks up to you and completely changes the direction of your night.

“so what’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

“before you try too hard, you should know i’m not interested.”

“hey,” he raises his hands. “i was just going to offer to make you a drink. you looked pretty angry over here.”

you paused for a second then, before mentally weighing the pros and cons of actually flirting with this kid. “i mean if you really want to, i guess you can make me a vodka soda.”

he shoots some finger guns at you before replying, “coming right up.” as he makes your drink he asks you for your name.

“i’m y/n, and i didn’t catch yours either?”

“most people call me haechan, but you can call me donghyuck.”

“well then, donghyuck, why’d you come up to me of all people?”

he hands you your drink, then wipes his hands on pants and says, “you looked like my type of girl; pretty, slightly mean, and hopefully a few years older than me.”

his forward was makes your eyes widen a little bit, but it’s not unwelcome. “the last one depends on a bit, what year are you in?”

he laughs not impolitely at you. “i’m but a lonely freshman.”

“well then, i think you’ve been forgetting to call me noona, donghyuck.”

“sorry, noona. would you maybe wanna get out of here?” he looks at you hopefully.

you check your phone, neither of your friends have texted. “well, i suppose my friends can find a ride home themselves.”

his eyes lit up before he drags you outside. you take him to your place, knowing that he could barely keep his hands to himself.

once you get inside you ask him, “so is this all you wanted to do? sit and talk with me?”

he whined at your words. “c’mon noona, we both know that’s not what i meant.”

“well, if you’re sure, hyuck.” you moved closer to him in the coach before kissing him, innocent at first, but he quickly tried to deepen it, when you pulled away. “uh uh, hyuck, i’m in charge tonight.”

his eyes glinted with what seemed like a terrible idea. “and what if i don’t listen to you, noona? what then?”

“then you get punished, hyuck.” you sweetly smiled at him.

“and what if i like that?”

you pulled off his shirt, and started to trail kisses down his chest. he bucked his crotch up, before you slapped him straight across the face. at that he moaned, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“masochist,” you chuckled.

“sadist!” he replied.

“i will slap you again.”

“i hope you do!”

smack! you slapped him not across his face this time, but his dick. you unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his underwear, to see his cock, an angry red. “aww, it’s so cute,” you remarked before taking it in your mouth.

“don’t call it—oh, fuck,” right when he was going to say something, he stopped. it definitely wasn’t because you started to do something special with your tongue, definitely not.

right when donghyuck was about to cum, you pulled off of him. “oh, you thought it was gonna be that easy? that’s sweet.” you gave him a chaste kiss. “you were wrong though!”

[pleathewrites]

bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 4 excerpt — seroroki first kiss read full story here

“When did you start smoking?” 

“Smokin’ what?” Sero’s native accent bleeds into the night fog of his exhale.

“Whatever you’re smoking right now.”

Sero laughs, and it’s rough in all the best ways — raspy, deep, loud enough to bounce off the moon back into Shouto’s lungs.

“It’s just a cigarette, Shou. Started when I was, fuck, thirteen, I think?”

‘Oh, that’s quite — ’, “Young.”

It makes sense, in a way. Sero holds the cigarette with a lazy respect Shouto has only seen his eldest brother uphold. Sero’s voice, upped with the hormones of a teenage boy, scratches on the same words Shouto’s own would hold steady. Even the way Sero sits, in that same corner of his dorm balcony every night Shouto visits, speaks of years of habit. His lithe body folded like a discarded stall pretzel — propped, knobby knees to rest his bulky elbows, the back of his head laid back against his balcony door for easier exhale, leaving his stretched throat vulnerable to Shouto’s quite appalling fantasies. 

Shouta has never wanted someone so badly.

“Yeah, well,” Hanta continues, “Not much else to do in my house.”

Shouto remembers.

[ 11 months ago, April — Second Week of U.A., First Year

The door slams shut, and Shouto is finally by himself. 

He's beyond thankful the school offers boarding to students who cannot — or simply do not wish to — commute from home. The room U.A. assigned him is smaller than his own at the Todoroki estate but it’s his to do with what he pleases, away from the surveillance of his father and the suffocating silence of his older siblings.

He needs air, and with his own balcony, he doesn’t even have to leave his room to get it. 

To say Shouto is… nervous for his first year at U.A. is an understatement. He’d never been to school before, never spoken to so many strangers at once, and he wasn’t even the one talking the majority of the time. He understands the novelty of it all, though — the last son of the Number Two hero, and everyone is itching to ask, ‘What’s it like having such a great hero as a father?’

Well, everyone except his dorm neighbor, who’s apparently been too busy destroying his lungs the next balcony over.

“I think that’s definitely against school-rules.”

The boy startles from where he sits, sucks in a deep breath, and coughs so heavily that Shouto thinks the guy might die. He doesn’t. Instead, the boy’s cough subsides after a few long seconds and he takes a deep inhale before clearing his throat and looking up to meet Shouto’s curious gaze.

This is the moment Shouto thinks Sero Hanta has the largest pair of eyes he’s ever seen. Wide black irises framed by lashes so thick, Shouto wonders if the boy is wearing makeup.

Pale eyelids shut briefly before the boy coughs out a nervous laugh, “Fuck, uh… You gonna tell on me, or sumthn?”

Shouto thinks about it, or pretends to, and tilts his head to the side while his eyes roam over the relaxed form of the delinquent in question. Maybe it was the situation — someone finally asking him something that doesn’t revolve around his family —  or, maybe, it was the sleepy accent from a devil-may-care demeanor Shouto hasn’t really encountered before, “No. Provided you let me keep you company.”

This is the moment Shouto also realizes Sero Hanta has the biggest smile he’s ever seen.

Large, slightly crooked teeth glint under a night with no moon and Shouto doesn’t understand why his hands feel so sweaty — he usually has excellent quirk control.

“Yeah man, c’mon on over,” Shouto hops over the rails of both balconies and settles next to the boy, despite his sensitive nose twinging from the bitter smoke, “Couldn’t sleep?

Gulping whatever anxiety lingers in his throat, Shouto nods, “New environment.” 

“Yeah,” Sero snorts, “This is nothin’ like home.”

Shouto doesn’t want to talk about his home, “What is your home like?”

Sero takes a puff of his cigarette before his words come out thick with smoke, “Oof, gettin’ deep ‘n personal already. Y’know what they say about the midnight-hours.”

Shouto doesn’t, “What do they say?”

“Somethin’ ‘bout the stars loosenin’ the tongue.” 

Shouto rolls his tongue over his teeth, “My tongue is still firmly attached,” He doesn’t think the stars could have such a quirk. 

Sero laughs, and Shouto’s not really sure what he said that’s so funny but, Gods, does he wish he knew, because Sero’s lips are stretched wide over his teeth and the tip of his tongue is so pink, “Ah man, how I wish I was smokin’ somethin’ else,” At that, Shouto furrows his brows in confusion, and Sero waves his hand assuringly with the cigarette still lit between two fingers, “Nah, it’s, like, a ‘poetic’ way of saying how people are more likely to be — you know, vulnerable, at night.”

‘Ah, a metaphor,’ Shouto thinks, ‘Like when I bought Fuyumi-nee that sweater she was eyeing for weeks before her birthday and she said she was, ‘so happy, she could die.’ Thankfully, she did not die.’

Shouto nods, “I see… I was not allowed poetry.”

Sero hums, “Didn’t really have access to it, either. Schools were shit in my area.” 

To say Shouto was intrigued would be an understatement. Maybe he felt some kind of kinship with the smoking boy whose shoulder warms the right of his. Maybe he was desperate to hear someone else’s story rather than repeat the manicured version of his own for the dozenth time. Maybe he wondered if their stories could be more similar than either of them would think.

“Where are you from? You have an accent you cover up. Why?”

“Slow down, man,” Sero laughs and Shouto’s shoulders shake with it, “I’m not from the city. Some nowhere-village, you wouldn’t’ve heard of it,” Dark eyes twinkle with something that feels like a shared secret, “But yeah, I'll give you that. I’m tryin’ to, y’know, fit in ‘n whatnot.”

“I understand,” Shouto knows all too well about exclusion, “I… don’t think I fit in.” 

Sero smiles, “Well. Ya got a spot right here, in this lil’ smoker’s den of mine — ours, if you want it.”

And Shouto’s heart skips a long beat for the first time in his little life. ]

Shouto smiles at the memory. 

Over this past year, Sero’s balcony became his solace. A place to vent and scream and curse at the moon. A lighthouse to guide his shivering body out of the roaring oceans of hurt and anger that perpetually marinate in the slim meat of his bones. The warmest blanket of the softest kind of understanding Shouto’s ever known, a constant heat to battle the eternal ice that regularly threatens to freeze him from the inside out. Out of 240 nights, Shouto has spent over half of them hopping onto cold metal that does not belong to him, to sit next to a boy who invites him to belong instead.

Sero’s balcony is where Shouto fits. It is the only place where he can take the world off his shoulders, and be the sixteen-year-old boy he would have been, had he been born under a different God. 

It is where Shouto made his first friend. (It will be where Shouto will have his first kiss.)

Because here, under the cloak of quiet galaxies and fading smoke, Shouto is a sixteen-year-old boy with a nearly ten-month-long crush on the person who was kind enough to coax him into their small, star-speckled haven, and offer it as his own.

The secret of Shouto’s affections weighs heavier every day. Touya’s words rattle in his head, ‘maybe you should just — I dunno, tell him that.’ But how? It is often said that Shouto is brave, but in the same breath, Shouto would argue that he has spent the majority of his life alone, with nothing to lose, and he believes bravery without sacrifice shallows itself down to the same arrogance his father suffers from.

With everything that’s happened recently with Touya, with his father under arrest, it doesn’t make sense how, at this moment, the only thing on Shouto’s mind is the way Sero Hanta’s lips wrap over that cancer stick, and how much Shouto wants to lean in and take its place, grab that pointed chin between his own chilly fingers and plead, ‘breathe me in, instead.’  

However, losing the peace Sero offers him to a silly moment of desire is not something Shouto thinks he is ready for.

Shouto looks away to mentally shake off his thoughts, and lands on the first thing he sees — a familiar, worn cigarette pack with a unique design oddly felicitous to Sero, “The box is pretty.” 

‘It fits you.’

Rogue blue waves rising up to meet a dark sky with an overly bright and full moon. Shouto likens the design to finding serenity in the reality of mother nature's chaos. 

Sero takes the box and thumbs over the design absent-mindedly, “Yeah, it used to be the only brand I smoked, really. A bit of a nuisance, though, fuckin’ hard to find — one of those, if you know you know.” He flips the box open, “It’s kinda dumb, but I usually just put the ciggs I buy now in this pack ‘n throw away the original box.”

“Did it taste better than others?” Shouto thinks it must have, to be Sero’s favorite. 

“Huh, well, not really. ‘S more like, sentimental value, I guess,” Sero’s laugh rings like rusted, broken bells, “All of ‘em taste the same, really, one way or another. Some’re just extra, y’know, harsh on the throat.” 

Shouto thinks that judging by the smell alone, smoking still doesn’t sound very pleasant, “I’ve heard it tastes bad. It smells… strong.” 

The shrug of Sero’s shoulder bumps his own in a blissful moment of contact, “Ya get used to it.”

Now, Shouto knows his face tends to be quite expressive — for someone who wasn’t allowed to express much growing up — and so, when Sero looks at him and ticks the corner of his lip in a way Shouto has only ever seen a handful of times when Sero would talk about the more cheeky experiences of his life, he knows he’s been caught. “Why? You wanna try?”

“I don’t know,” He really doesn’t know but the lowered lid of Sero’s large eyes makes Shouto want to try anything, just to keep that dark gaze on him for a few seconds longer.

Sero lays the cigarette box down and scoots closer. The left side of Shouto’s face fills with blood and the heat makes him woozy. 

‘Is this what it’s like to feel drunk?’

Shouto can’t really think about yet another teen experience he fears missing out on because there are cool, slender fingers grasping his chin the same way Shouto daydreamed about minutes ago. 

Sero briefly turns his head away to take a long drag of his cigarette before facing Shouto again, his whispering mouth barely a centimeter from his own, “C’mere.”

And Shouto listens, leans, lets his body loosen to the calloused thumb pulling at his bottom lip, and opens his mouth. As if on autopilot, at the sound of Sero’s exhale and the reality of being this close to a boy Shouto has spent countless, dreamless nights with — Shouto inhales.

Something rushes to his brain. The smoked tar itches his throat but Shouto was born with the breath of fire. When he exhales, there is a tightness in his chest but Shouto knows it is not the nicotine that affects him so, but the boy whose bottom lip grazes his own and lingers in the lightest caress of a question Shouto has known the answer to for months.

All it takes is the tip of Sero’s strong nose nuzzling the side of his own for Shouto to throw all his cautions to the windless night, lean in, and press.

Sero’s soft kiss is everything he imagined it would be, and more.

read full story here

my other works

[shina913]

Scale, Part 4 | KSJ

Scale, Part 4

Definition: A beam that is supported freely in the center and has two pans of equal weight suspended from its ends; Something graduated especially when used as a measure or rule: such as (a) an indication of the relationship between the distances on a map and the corresponding actual distances; (b) a series of marks or points at known intervals used to measure distances; A graduated series or scheme of rank; A means of ascent

✮ ✮ ✮ Scale Masterlist ✮ ✮ ✮

Pairing: KSJ x fem!reader; appearances by OT7

Rating: Mature content (21+), no minors please!

Genre: Rich boy!AU; CEO!AU; strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Count: 10.7K+ words

Warnings: socioeconomic imbalance; character physical disability; cussing; office banter; hints of arranged marriages; alcohol consumption; character health scare (somebody is found unconscious); mentions of surgery; SMUT; oral (F receiving); protected sex

Summary: Kim Seokjin lives in a world where money is no object as he is the heir to his family's lucrative company; OC is a scrappy go-getter who has to work hard at multiple jobs to meet her financial obligations. When their paths cross, they'll have to figure out whether they can find a balance point between themselves and their lives.

A/N: Lots of stuff going on again! And I did a bit of a time-jump to get the plot moving--just a matter of a few weeks.

Also, full disclosure, I only did some light research on the medical complication on this chapter. I wanted something that warranted an emergency, some panic--but still something that could be resolved with early intervention. I apologize for the inaccuracies (in case you may be in the medical field).

❤️, comment, reblog, or send me an ask 📩. Would love to know what everyone thinks!

Jin woke up in a good mood this morning. After his talk with you last night, he sent out a text.

Clear your calendar for noon today. Let’s have lunch in my office!

By the time 11:55 rolls around, Haejin struts into Moon Industries. It was a Friday and she typically kept her day cleared of meetings to catch up on the rest of the week’s work and pending action items.

She rounded the corner from the hallway of her brother’s senior staff offices, greeting a few staff that she recognized as she walked by, who were on their way to their respective lunch breaks.

As she closes in on his office, she is caught off-guard when she sees Jungkook coming from the opposite direction as he exits his own office and cocks his head in confusion once he deduces that they are headed towards the same destination.

“Wh-what—“ They both say in unison.

Just then, they are startled by Jin opening his door with the biggest smile on his face.

“Aha! Right on time. I love it! Come on in,” he beckons them.

Jungkook and Haejin sit across from each other at the round table in Jin’s office. They both silently watched him as he scarfed his lunch down with the utmost appreciation.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s not waste good food,” he implored them while he chewed with his mouth full.

Jungkook sat wide-eyed, unmoving while Haejin started to poke at her food.

Jin swallowed a bite then chuckled. “I had hoped that we wouldn’t do this on an empty stomach but looks like you’re both insistent…”

“Jin,” Haejin started.

“How long has this been going on,” he cut her off calmly while he gestured his finger between both of them.

Haejin opens her mouth tentatively.

“Almost a year,” Jungkook answers.

She was surprised at his sudden candor around her brother.

“Jin-hyung…”

“Wow…” He trailed off, still strangely calm about it all.

She immediately added, “Oppa, w-we were planning to tell you–we j-just…”

“We just wanted to make sure that the IPO did well…so that it wasn’t as stressful for you,” Jungkook continued.

Jin hummed, taking another bite of his lunch while he stared out the window in his office.

“Do mom and dad know?”

“No,” she said quietly. “We hoped to tell the family after the gala.”

He nodded then took another bite.

“So this is serious?” He looked at both of them.

Jungkook and Haejin met each other’s eyes. He tentatively then slowly extended his right hand onto the table and reached across with his palm up.

Haejin gave him a small smile then put her left hand over it. After gripping it tightly, he looks back at her brother.

“I love her,” he says in earnest.

Jin glanced at his sister. The look on her face was all he needed as confirmation.

“Y-you’re not mad, hyung-nim?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“That I’m dating your sister…that we kept it from you—“

He giggled…his high-pitched, squeaky, window-wiping laugh.

As he calmed down, he shook his head. “No, I’m not. If anything, I admire you.”

They both looked at him thinking that he’s completely lost his shit. For a moment, Jin thought so, too. He wanted to lash out at both of them–for thinking that he would be against this relationship. Over the weekend, his ‘older brother’ instincts were kicking in. He wanted to grill Jungkook–but how and with what questions, exactly?

In the few years that he’s known Jungkook, he knows that he comes from humble beginnings. He obtained a scholarship from the Moonstone Foundation, which put him through college. He was one of the top interns and was eventually offered a job right before graduation.

He knew that Jungkook was whip-smart and had a great work ethic–all things that Jin looked for in an employee. But more than that, he was also very down-to-earth despite how quickly he rose up the ranks. He actively volunteered his time at the Foundation while balancing his already packed calendar as COO to Jin’s company.

He didn’t know much about Jungkook’s dating history. He had casually introduced a girlfriend or two in the time that they had known each other but that wasn’t something that he usually pried into.

When Ari left at the height of the company’s launch, Jin silently fell apart but Jungkook took it upon himself to grab the helm and kept things going. It took a bit of time but it helped knock Jin back into reality–to get a grip on himself and refocus to get to where they are now.

After meeting with you last night, he had readjusted his perspective. He had always prided himself in reserving judgment until after getting to know a person. With that in mind, he knew that he didn’t have to worry about his sister and his friend.

The younger one was confused. “I don’t…I don’t understand?”

Jin straightened his back in his seat. “It takes a real man to go out of his way just to prove his best intentions to his lady’s family.”

They both smiled sheepishly, a portion of the weight lifted off their chests.

“And in the same vein, it also takes a certain kind of man to rein in Kim Haejin,” he snorted.

She sat there aghast, staring at her brother.

“For that, I congratulate you, Jeon Jungkook,” he laughed again as he gave him a pat on the back.

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh at that as well. Haejin, withdrawing her hand from Jungkook, now giving them both a death stare.

She scoffed. “Hello? I am sitting right here! And I do not need to be reined in, thank-you-very-much!”

“Sorry, Jagi,” Jungkook says while stifling his chuckles.

“Seriously…Not what I imagined at all,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He waved her off. “I’m fine with all of it–as long as–you know…just keep in mind that this is still a place of business,” he said, eyeing both of them. "Let's keep it professional."

They both nodded in agreement.

“Also, you didn’t have to worry too much about me. If anything, I’d love to be a spectator when you tell mom and dad about this,” he chuckled.

Clearly, they still had to get her parents’ approval. However, knowing that they had Jin on their corner, it didn’t feel much like an uphill battle any longer.

******

It was an incredibly long day at the office. You offered to take some work home just to make a dent at the mountain of pending documents that you had to get through. Hoseok had taken on a new client last year and they have been incredibly demanding, dropping record after record for audits.

“At least they’re giving us all of the documents,” he said as the team combed through the company’s books.

It was good that he saw the silver lining in this. This particular client had come across an unexpectedly large fortune some few years ago–good for them, you thought. However, just as your net worth grows, the narrower the government’s crosshairs get on you.

It was ridiculous what some rich people did with their money, you thought. A yacht purchase here, private jet there, lavish vacations around Asia and Europe; expensive shopping sprees at Cartier, Tiffany’s, Manolo Blahnik, and Chanel. These people had the life!

At first, you found it strange that such a large conglomerate would approach a small accounting and auditing firm. Corporations like these usually went for the bigger, more well-known names–especially for one headquartered in a large, metropolitan area.

Still, it was good for business–It kept you busy and billable.

You clocked out right at 5 o’clock and trudged out of your building to make your way towards the train station. You were so dazed from all of the tiny, printed numbers that you had been staring at the whole day that you barely noticed someone calling out to you from the curb.

“Excuse me—you look like you need a ride!”

After living in this city your whole life, you were no stranger to catcallers.

You stopped and rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Ugh, seriously, this city is full of scum—Jin?!”

He laughed from his car window. “Sorry, what was that?”

You were embarrassed after not recognizing his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Partner meeting,” he says simply. “C’mon! Hop in.”

You hopped in the car–totally surprised that this is the first time you’ve run into him during the week, in the daylight, after getting out of your day job.

“Is that where your 9 to 5 is?”

“Yeah, it’s an accounting firm. Jung and Partners,” you answered.

“Ahh…so you actually do work with numbers.”

“I never lied about that,” you said.

He glanced at you with a wry smile after he made a stop at the intersection.

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Kim Seokjin,” you smirked.

“Are we okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, we are. You promised me that you laid everything out for me. Unless—you had a secret lovechild that you forgot to mention?”

He lightly smacked the steering wheel with his hand. “Damn, I knew I couldn’t get that past you,” he said, grinning at you.

He pulled up to your building and put the car in park.

“Uhm, do you want to come up? Perhaps a quick snack or something?”

“It’s almost dinner time,” he reminded you.

You chuckled. “Right! So–dinner then?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Are you kidding? You saved me a couple dollars and some precious train ride minutes. The least I could do is feed you.”

He really wanted to but he was supposed to meet Miya for dinner.

“I make a mean bowl of kimchi fried rice,” you said in a singsong manner, hoping to convince him.

Screw Miya.

“Alright. I’ll go and park around the corner and meet you up there.”

“Great! We’re at 3A–just push the button on the panel up by the front and I’ll buzz you in.” You were excited. You don’t invite many friends over to your place even though your dad encouraged you to. It wasn’t out of embarrassment but you just weren’t home for too long before you had to rush out to your next job. When you were home, you preferred to sleep or spend time with your dad.

You got out of the car and grabbed your things as Jin rounded the block to find street parking. Once you entered your home, your dad was sitting with Tannie who bounced off his lap to jump at you.

“Hi dad–hey, little buddy!”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?”

“Ah, you know. It’s tax season so things are getting pretty busy. It’s good for business though.”

“Good! Are you taking a nap before heading to the diner?”

“Actually, I invited a friend over for dinner–if that’s alright with you?”

“Jiminie? I haven’t seen him in a while!”

“Oh, no. It’s…it’s a new friend,” you said bashfully.

Your dad did his best to stifle a smile. He had been wanting to ask you about the mystery man who’s been giving you early morning rides and putting a smile on your face recently.

His mouth made an ‘o’ shape. He did his best to feign curiosity. “Am I going to like this new friend?”

“You will because I do,” you smiled, while checking your rice cooker to make sure that you had enough.

“If you say so.”

Just then you hear your buzzer go off.

You picked up the phone’s receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, 3A,” Jin says.

You giggled. “Buzzing you in now,” you said as you pushed down the button on the phone and returned the receiver to the cradle.

He knocks on the door to announce his arrival so you pause fussing around the kitchen to let him in while your dad tries to contain his excitement.

“Hey! Come on in,” you greeted him as he walked in.

He sees your dad sitting on the sofa straight away.

“Good evening,” your dad says, managing a short bow.

Jin stood up straight then lowered his upper body to bow to him. “Good evening, Mr. YLN. I am Kim Seokjin. Thank you for having me in your home.”

“Glad to meet you, Seokjin,” your dad smiled warmly. “And no need for formalities. All of YN’s friends call me ‘uncle’.”

“And who’s this?” He says at the ball of fur jumping up and down by his pant leg.

“This is Yeontan,” you say as you picked him then grabbed one of his little paws to wave at him. “But we call him Tannie. Yeontan is reserved for when he does something bad,” you said playfully as he licked your cheek.

“Do you need help with dinner? Just tell me what I need to do,” he offered.

“I’ve got it. Go have a seat. I’ll get things going.”

You set Tannie down and he hops right next to where Jin sits on the couch. He instinctively starts to rub the back of Tannie’s ear while you proceed to whip up dinner.

He and your dad made small talk while they watched the local news on TV until a news segment flashed on-screen showing a video clip of Jin’s mom assisting at a women’s shelter.

It occurred to you that you hadn’t mentioned Jin’s background to your dad since your talk the other night.

A moment later, the news segment proceeds to show a previous clip of the gala event where Jin’s family accepted the key to the city.

“Oh–that’s…you…isn’t it,” your dad remarked while pointing at the TV.

“Uhm–yeah,” Jin says sheepishly.

“Wow–I can’t believe Kim Daesung’s son is sitting right in my living room,” your dad chuckles.

“Dad, please don’t make this a thing,” you said embarrassingly.

“Who’s making it into a thing? He just bowed to me!” your dad exclaimed while he extended his arms towards Jin’s direction.

Jin chuckled nervously. “Honestly, it’s not a big deal…we try to keep things low-key, as much as we can.”

“Well, if anything, I have much to thank your family for. Your family pretty much funded YN’s college education. It was a difficult time for us after losing her mother right out of high school–the scholarship was a welcome blessing to our family.”

“Oh…” he looks back towards you. Your back was turned as you pretended to busy yourself in the kitchen but you heard every word. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment as you hadn’t told him about that connection yet.

“So–on behalf of our family, thank you, Seokjin.” Your dad extended his hand to shake Jin’s hand.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad that we’re able to pay it forward. And please–’Jin’ is fine. I only get called ‘Seokjin’ when my parents get upset at me,” he laughs.

Just then, you hear a knock on your door. Tannie runs up to it excitedly…he already knew his dog-dad’s scent.

You answered the door and greeted Taehyung and introduced him to Jin. You reminded him that he was your artist-friend that you spoke about fairly recently.

After talking shop and agreeing to introduce him to his friend, Namjoon, dinner was finally ready.

You each served them a bowl of rice while they settled into your small dining table. When you handed Taehyung his bowl, you gave him a spoon since he was still having difficulty gripping chopsticks with his injured hand–and he just looked pathetic trying to do it left-handed.

“Are you alright, man? What happened to your arm,” Jin asked, pointing at Taehyung’s cast.

While munching on dinner, he proceeds to talk about his sudden brush with death and how you came in and saved his job from him.

“He’s exaggerating–I just did him a small favor,” you said as you took a few bites of dinner.

“Yeah…that’s our YN. Always willing to help out. She’d give you the shirt off her back if you needed it,” Taehyung says while he chews on a piece of pork.

Jin subtly glances your way.

“Stop, you guys…you’re embarrassing me in front of our guest,” you said shyly while you leaned against the counter, facing them. Jin offered to stand so that you could take a seat but you declined and insisted that he sit since he was a guest.

“It’s true, though!” Your friend says, as if trying to argue.

Jin smiles at the personal stories that your dad and Taehyung share with him.

“I will say though—I love my parents but ever since I moved to the city, YN and uncle have taken me in as their own. I trust YN with my life—literally! I even made her my medical proxy!”

“That’s a big deal,” Jin says. “I don’t think I’d trust myself to be anybody’s medical proxy,” he chuckles.

“We still need to seriously discuss that, Taehyung,” you told your friend. Being in control of someone’s life was a huge decision. While you were honored that he would put that much trust in you, you wanted to make sure that he didn’t offend his parents or any other actual family members.

You cleared the dishes but Jin stood up right away and insisted that he do them. He didn’t leave much room for argument.

Shortly after, Taehyung bids everyone goodnight as his arm started to hurt again and mentioned that his mom was making a day trip to check on him. He wanted to at least clean the place up and make it look decent for her.

“So–Jin…would you like to join us for our Sunday routine this weekend,” your dad asked Jin.

“Dad, he could be busy!”

“Well…is he?” He turns to Jin expectantly.

“No, I’d love to!”

“Alright, well. We mainly take a walk in the park in the morning, have lunch, then go grocery shopping. Nothing crazy,” your dad says.

“Sounds like a great time. What time should I pick you guys up?”

Your dad was playing Cupid. It was awkward, to say the least since you didn’t really want to take it that far.

He was a good person with the purest of intentions. It would make any woman swoon–and yet, something was stopping you. It wasn’t because he lied about his social status.

He was nice, a good listener, didn’t judge you–all great qualities. You felt something more–and you were starting to yearn. You had to smack yourself mentally every now and then.

Jin was great but…you were apprehensive. You didn’t want to add any more fuel to that fire.

He would never go for someone like you, you thought. He would go for someone like that woman that he sat next to at the party–dressed to the nines, glamorous, prim and proper. All things you weren’t.

You were mousy-looking but you spoke brashly and had a dark sense of humor to offset your whole laundry list of insecurities.

But you had his friendship–that was more than enough. He didn’t ask for anything in return. He just wanted your time…right?

******

On Sunday morning, he came by–dressed in his sweats and running shoes. He had parked around the corner and you went for your morning walk at the park.

You didn’t know what his typical morning routine was–whether this was too early for him or if he preferred to sleep in on the weekends. You didn’t think he worked as much as you did–or at least stayed up as late as you did.

His routine has certainly changed since meeting you. Typically, he blocked off his weekends purely to rest and do nothing apart from the occasional email check-ins–but he could do those from home. Sometimes, he had something planned with Namjoon or had a family dinner to attend to.

Other than that, he told your dad that he preferred to stay home. He didn’t really go out much unless he had to. Midway through starting his own company, he’s learned the value of rest. While it was great to unwind every now and then, he decided for himself that he didn’t need to always be productive with his time.

During the early stages of his company, he certainly felt the pressure of working hard–of succeeding. He wanted to do well and make a name for himself. When Ari left him, he threw himself into work until he burnt out.

After a short stint at the hospital for exhaustion, he decided to change his whole perspective. In the past, he felt compelled to say ‘yes’ to every opportunity, even if it meant spreading himself thin.

Soon after, he learned that that wasn’t really all there was to life. Once he had that realization, he tried to instill that within his staff. Rest was important–work can wait.

It was the total opposite for you. You had to keep moving. Rest could wait. You had to work…because nobody else would do that for you. You would work all seven days if you could–but your dad talked you off that ledge.

He had done that himself–worked to no end until he paid for it.

After two weeks of Sunday Fun-day with Jin, he showed up the following Sunday asking if you were both open to changing things up.

It was a nice day–the weather was fairly mild so he offered to drive you and your dad to an undisclosed location.

After Jin loads up your dad’s wheelchair in the trunk of his SUV, you drive out about 45 minutes away from the city.

Although you hadn’t been out to this area in a long time, you recognized the coastline.

Once you arrived at the marina, your dad couldn’t contain his excitement.

“So, I thought this would be a nice change of pace,” he said as he pulled up to the marina.

“Wow–we haven’t been out here in years, right YN?”

“This is beautiful, Jin!” you exclaimed.

“Just wait 'til we get on the water.”

“Oh, Seokjin-ah–I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” you dad joked.

Jin laughed. “We can do that at a different time, uncle. I have a boat and I thought that we could take it out to the water and have some lunch?”

It was a great morning. Your dad had a smile plastered across his face the whole time–and Jin did that.

You groaned inwardly–this didn’t keep the yearning at bay. But seeing the pure joy on your dad’s face–it was worth a day of pining. You could just torture yourself again when you got home.

It was the middle of the afternoon when you got home. Being under the sun and the sea breeze tired you out but in a good way. You felt refreshed, somehow.

“Why don’t you two go have dinner or something? I feel bad taking over your Sundays,” your dad says sheepishly.

You rolled your eyes. It wasn’t your Sundays with Jin. This was your thing with your dad and he practically took Jin as a hostage and he was just too nice to decline.

“Why don’t we just rest, dad?”

“Stop talking crazy, sweetheart!” His interjection takes you aback.

“I can rest because I’m an old man–but you’re young! Go and have some harmless fun for a couple of hours. It’s not always about work.

Jin glances at you. “I mean…I don’t have anything else to do. I’m down, if you feel like it.”

He waved from your living room window while you and Jin pull away of the curb to go to dinner. Shortly after as he tried to make his way back to the couch, your dad grimaces, clutching his calf as pain started shooting up his leg.

******

Taehyung and Yeontan are returning from a quick walk around the block. He was feeling more mobile as the light trauma to his hip from his bike accident had fully healed. He had to bring an extra harness for Tannie so he wouldn’t run off as he still had to keep the cast for a couple more weeks and couldn’t use both hands to yank him back if he did.

He also had to bust out the puppy stroller since he couldn’t just pick him up to carry him around if he started whining. Tannie was cute but he wasn’t light.

As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he lets Tannie jump out of the stroller to walk towards his apartment. But instead, he runs towards your door and starts whining and pawing at it.

“Tan! Tannie!” He calls out to his pet while patting his thighs, trying to beckon him to come back.

“C’mon, bud. They must be asleep by now. We’ll see uncle tomorrow,” he says.

But the dog kept at it and started to bark loudly.

“Yeontan! Yeontan!” Taehyung scolded, “Dude, you’ll wake up the whole floor.”

Tannie was frantic, which Taehyung thought was strange. He finally walks up to your door and finds that it was cracked open and it instantly concerned him.

He tried to open it wider but couldn’t because he felt that something was blocking it. He looks down to see Tannie sniffing and whining at something on the floor.

“Oh, fuck!”

******

You decided to go to a sushi bar in the city–the ones that come out from a conveyor belt.

It was all fun and casual until you ordered a bottle of sake–which took Jin by surprise. He’s seen you drink a beer on one of your samgyeopsal lunches but that was the extent of it.

“Why are we friends anyway? You could have literally picked anybody…anybody!”

He chuckles because he’s never seen you in this state…just letting loose. You took another shot of sake.

After swallowing, you waved your arms aimlessly in mid-air. “You know…You walk around, being broody and sexy like it’s nobody’s business…“

He laughed then mentally had to hit ‘rewind.’ “Wait—you think I’m sexy?”

You jerked your head back. “What? N-no! That’s not my point,” you huffed.

He tried to stifle a chuckle while you tried your hardest to collect your thoughts.

“I have…no time to play games, alright? I have to make sure my dad’s okay…bills are paid…got a roof over our head…then I have to make sure Tae-Tae is okay…it’s just so muuuchh wooorkkk…” you slurred.

“If you take care of everyone else, who takes care of you?”

You scrunch your face. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A legitimate one. Who takes care of YN?”

You giggled. “Nobody has ever asked me that.”

You hiccuped. “Why do you have to be so…complicated? You want to be friends but all you do is talk to me about your ex…but then you tell me things like you can’t stay away or ask me who takes care of me... Which is it,” you asked him pointedly.

You cocked your head to the side and stared at him.

“What do you want from me, Kim Seokjin?”

He stared back at you, trying to figure out what to say.

“Because…I’ve got nothing. Unlike you—you’ve got everything.”

“Not everything,” he says quietly, still staring.

You shook your head while you took another swig then leaned in closer to his face. “So what is it then? What do you want from me?”

He couldn’t quite figure out what it was exactly but he was certain that he felt it…and he let it draw him in closer to you. You let him into your world little by little and he was all too happy to make himself comfortable in it.

He looked into your eyes–they were glazed with drunkenness but he saw past that and saw you for you were–an honest, beautiful person who loved her friends and family fiercely…and some part of him wanted to bask in that.

Why else would he be so adamant to seek your forgiveness after he had been dishonest to you?

Before you knew it, he was slowly closing the gap between you two…until your phone started to buzz incessantly from your pocket, pulling you away from your drunken, fantasy world.

“Sorry,” you apologized and look down at the caller ID.

It was Taehyung. You were slightly annoyed at him cockblocking you but you answered anyway.

“Tae, this better be—wait, slow down. Taehyung, slow down—what? What? Where? Is he okay? Oh my god. I’m on my way!”

You hung up and scrambled for your things–the call suddenly sobering you up.

“I gotta go.”

“Woah-woah…What happened? Tell me!”

“It’s my dad, I—oh my god,” your eyes start to well up. “I shouldn’t have come here. I have to leave–”

“YN, I’m not letting you leave on your own in this state. I’ll bring you to him.” He thought that he would ask questions later and rush you over to wherever you directed him to.

You start to whimper.

Jin grabs his keys and jacket from the table. “Where is he?”

“Uh–C-City General,” you croaked out.

Thankfully, he only had one drink and that was over an hour ago knowing that he had to drive back anyway.

“Okay, let’s go.” He says after tossing a few bills to cover the check as you rushed out of the restaurant.

******

The ride to the hospital was quiet. He offered you some water and even though you weren’t thirsty, you thought that he was only trying to get you hydrated to help sober you up.

You practically wanted to jump out of the car after he parked but he manages to get you to wait until he got out to help walk you in.

You checked in at the nurse’s station and they tell you that he’s already been admitted to the intensive care unit.

Your heart is pounding–you feel that you, yourself are about to have a coronary. As soon as you and Jin get off the floor, you turn to the right side of the hallway and find Taehyung exiting the room.

“Tae! Oh my god, oh my god–” you rushed over to hug him tightly.

“Hey,” he greets you quietly.

The nurse exits the room soon after.

“How is he? I’m-I’m his daughter. Is he awake? Can I see him?”

“Let’s slow down, Miss YLN. I just checked on his vitals and he’s stable for now. It’s good that your neighbor here called the emergency line right away. We got to him just in time,” she says.

“What happened? Was it his leg? He was complaining about pain–”

She nodded. “That was part of it. He had a heart attack and the leg pain was sort of a warning. I’ll page the doctor and he can fill you in, alright?” She gives you a reassuring squeeze in the arm.

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, you can. But–” she eyes Jin and Taehyung, “Only one visitor at a time. We don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You look back at Jin and he nods, urging you to go and see your dad.

When you walked into the ICU room, you started whimpering at the sight of your dad hooked up to machines. You gave the foot on his good leg a squeeze, hoping he would feel your presence before you rounded his bed to stay by his side and took his hand.

“I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there, dad,” you whispered as your fingers brushed his forehead.

You were mentally kicking yourself for deciding on going out and being reckless instead of staying in like you had originally planned to do tonight.

You don’t remember the last time you went out just for fun. And when you did, you imposed a time limit on it. You were still young and yet you were saddled with responsibilities that were worth decades. You didn’t want to resent it because you did it for your family.

But that little voice within you came up every now and then–wishing for a bit more…just–more than what you currently had. More fun, more money, more time for yourself…more freedom.

And yet, this was payback for enjoying a bit of freedom and momentarily forgetting the real world. Was it worth it?

******

Jin excused himself to get you some coffee from the hospital’s cafeteria floor. He also contacted his on-call driver to take Taehyung back home.

It turned out that after calling 911, the paramedics wouldn’t allow Taehyung to take Tannie with him in the ambulance so he ended up leaving him with Mrs. Choudhry down the hall while he rode along.

Jin took his time getting the coffee and decided to place another call.

“Hi, uncle. Sorry to call so late, you must be asleep–Oh, you’re on-call tonight? I see. Listen, I was wondering if you can help me with a friend of mine. I’m calling from City General and her dad just came in. I overheard the nurse say that he was stable for now but he’s in the ICU. I’m not sure if something more serious is going on and her dad might be keeping her in the dark about it…Yeah…she mentioned something about leg pain but that’s all I know. I didn’t catch the doctor’s name, unfortunately…Oh, you can do that?…Great…That would be fantastic, uncle. Thank you. Thank you—so much.”

He hung up then pocketed his phone and proceeded to pick up the two cups of coffee that he set down earlier when he heard someone call out to him.

“Jinnie…”

“Ari…h-hi,” he says, completely dumbfounded.

They stood there in silence. She was holding a cup of orange juice and a paper bag with a pastry, he assumed.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” She moves in to give him a hug, which takes him by surprise.

It had been over three months since he last saw her. He had drunk-dialed her and begged her to meet him at his boat by the marina.

She was getting married soon and it was a last-ditch effort on his part to try to get her back. He admitted that it was delusional but he had to try.

He was a mess when she arrived but he was happy that she came to see him. He apologized to her repeatedly and told her that it was all going to be over soon. His company was going public and he didn’t need to travel as often. He would be there to put down roots–roots that she wanted to grow a family.

But it was a year too late.

He remembered the day she walked out on him. He was just getting back from a months-long stay in Tokyo and her suitcases were by the door.

She had had enough. She was tired of being cooped up in an ivory tower all on her own. He promised her love and an eternal partnership. All she needed from him was his presence. She asked him for less travel, more permanence…but she couldn’t compete with his ambition much less contain it. Her love for him wasn’t enough to tie him down.

In the end, he couldn’t give her what she wanted–so she gave her ring back until someone, who was waiting in the wings, came in to sweep her off her feet.

“What are you doing here? Of all places that we’d meet…” she asked.

“Uh, I’m just here, helping a good friend’s dad.”

“Oh, okay,” she said awkwardly.

“How about you? Are your parents okay?” He’s not sure why he immediately assumed that her parents were the reason why she was at the hospital.

“Oh yeah, yeah. They’re fine. I…uhm–I was the one who needed medical attention,” she reveals.

He was surprised to hear it, not because she was standing upright but because she was saying all of this with the biggest grin on her face–it was a little off-putting.

“I was feeling a little sick while I was at dinner with a friend so they brought me in through the ER and ran some tests. I’d been feeling off the last few weeks leading up to the wed–” she caught herself.

Jin kept a neutral expression.

“Anyway--as it turns out…Kwan and I are having a baby,” she gushed while she beamed from ear to ear.

He was shocked that he didn’t flinch at the sound of his name.

“Wow! Congratulations, Ari.” He went in to hug her and it didn’t feel like a knee-jerk reaction.

“Thank you. We’re just over the moon.”

“I’m sure you are,” he says as he pulls away from her.

Just then, she looks over Jin’s shoulder and catches a glimpse of her husband walking through the automatic doors. He slows down when he spots Jin turning around.

“I uh...I gotta get back and check on my friend. It was good to see you, Ari. I’m really glad you’re…happy.” He smiled at her and genuinely meant it.

“Thank you, Jin. That means a lot coming from you. Take care, huh?”

“You, too.”

He returns to your dad’s room to find you curled up on the arm chair. He approaches you quietly, careful not to wake you. He stood there, watching the rise and fall of your shoulders. He crouched down–contemplating whether he wanted to finish that kiss before you were interrupted.

Seeing Ari tonight surprised him. However, what was completely unexpected to him was how he didn’t feel the same amount of yearning that he had months ago.

She was happily married and had a child on the way. It should have been him–but it’s not. And for the first time in a while, he didn’t wish it so. That wasn’t what he wanted anymore.

At this moment, all he wanted was to care for you. He couldn’t help but brush some errant strands of hair off your face. You were exhausted…physically and emotionally.

“Whatever she says, don’t listen to her.” Your dad startled him with a hoarse, wheezy, whisper.

“You’re awake..YN–”

“Let her sleep,” he says while pulling the oxygen mask off his face.

“Uncle–you probably shouldn’t do that–”

He waved him off. “I’ll be fine. Just make sure she’s alright, do you understand?”

He nodded. “I made a few calls. We’ll get you transferred to a different hospital either tonight or early tomorrow–you don’t have to worry about anything.”

He managed a small smile. “Thank you, Jin. You’re a good man.”

“Thank you. I try to be.”

******

Jin got home at about 4AM because you forced him out of the hospital when you woke up from your nap and found him dozing off in the hallway. He insisted on waiting until your dad got transferred to the next hospital but told him that you could manage.

He dragged his ass to the restaurant where Namjoon was waiting–thankfully, with some appetizers already served.

“Sorry I’m late–I uh–”

“Had a long night…mm-hmm,” Namjoon says.

Jin shook his head, still reeling from the events that occurred mere hours ago.

“You look like shit. Have you gotten any sleep–I dunno, in the last week?”

“I have,” he says in an uncharacteristically higher pitch.

Namjoon knew his friend inside-out.

“Does it have something to do with that girl from the gala?”

“What?” Jin was surprised. He hadn’t mentioned you to his inner circle yet. Well–he’d been meaning to but lots of things have happened in between that it had completely escaped his mind.

Namjoon chuckled. “You ran off after the salad was served and seemed a bit rattled when you got back. Then you just kind of spent the rest of the night looking over your shoulder after each course–like you were expecting somebody.”

Jin sighed. “Yes,” he said, cracking a small smile.

His friend grinned. “I kind of figured that somebody else was taking up your time. And you haven’t been as…curmudgeonly,” he chuckled.

Jin made a face at his friend. “That bad, huh?”

“If I’m being honest–yes. You were starting to get difficult to be around with,” he admitted.

“I appreciate your candor, Namjoon-ah.”

“Sooo–do I have to ask or do I need to look into her myself?”

The fact that Namjoon threatened to use his resources to do some recon work on you was comical to him because he didn’t think it was necessary.

“What’s there to ask? She’s a good friend,” Jin said defensively.

Namjoon snorted. “Riiiight, and Ji-yun and I play board games late at night. C’mon, Jin! The last time you behaved like this was–when you first met…"

He didn’t have to finish that sentence. He just gave his friend a knowing look.

“You were all—Namjoon-ah, I just can’t breathe without her,” he chuckled teasingly.

“Was that supposed to be an impression of me?”

Namjoon laughed. “Did I lie, though?”

Jin shrugged, trying to act all casual. “We’re just enjoying each other’s company. She’s removed from all this,” he gestures around their affluent surroundings.

“I like talking to her and spending time with her. No pressure, at all. I don’t have to be anybody else or worry about anything. I’m just…me.”

“Okay, ‘just me,’ does she know about—Miya?”

“No,” he said in a clipped manner. “Honestly, I think it’s irrelevant at this point because by the new year, I don’t have to worry about the Hwangs.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. I just met with Jungkook and Dae and they’re telling me that stock prices have since tripled.” He then turned to his friend.

“It means that I don’t have to ask dad for too much to meet the difference...and it also means that I can get out sooner than I had planned.”

“That easy, huh? You sure Hwang doesn’t have anything up his sleeve? He seems like a slimy guy.”

Jin shook his head. “Doubt it. I had my lawyer look at the paperwork that they gave to me a couple months ago. It’s pretty clear-cut. I don’t think he’s that smart. He may have gotten rich quick but our family’s been in business for half a century. Besides, my dad wouldn’t get himself into a situation that was high-risk, low reward. Not his style.”

It was why Jin wanted to start his own company. His dad wasn’t much of a risk-taker. When he took over as chairman for his grandfather, he understood the assignment: maintain the company’s position—which he did, to a ‘T.’

Jin had fresh ideas and wanted to take the company further, but his father thought that his ideas were too idealistic—meaning, ‘sounds great but I’d rather not take the chance.’

“And how does this new woman come into play?”

“Her name is YN,” he corrected.

“How does YN come into play here?”

“She doesn’t. Like I said, she’s removed from all this. She’s…” He paused.

Namjoon anxiously awaited the end of that sentence.

Jin smiled wistfully. “She’s a great, unexpected bonus at the end of the day.”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that, Jin,” he says, shaking his head.

“What?”

“It sounds like you’re using her as a distraction. I don’t think that’s fair to her.”

He scoffed bitterly at that.

“I am not! She’s not a distraction. She listens to me and…I like being there for her if she needs someone to talk to—that doesn’t seem like the definition of a distraction.

And I can feel that she genuinely likes to spend time with me…not because she needs something from me. I like being around her…because when she’s not, it’s as if I can’t…” he paused, trying to find the right words until he exchanged a look with his best friend.

Namjoon stared back at this friend, puffed out his cheeks then exhaled deeply—purposely, in an exaggerated manner, while chuckling to himself as he took a bite of a few french fries.

******

The monitors beep in a steady, rhythmic pattern, indicating that your dad’s vitals were stable.

You sat on the armchair watching the lines go up and down. It’s amazing that the motions haven’t hypnotized you to sleep as you haven’t gotten a decent amount in the last two days.

You placed a call earlier this morning letting Hoseok know that you wouldn’t be able to make it in for at least a couple days. He asked whether you had any time off left and if you needed some from the paid time-off donation program. You declined saying that you had about a week’s worth to cover your hours.

You apologized for taking a temporary leave during one of the busiest times–but once more, Hoseok assures you that family needs to come first and work will be taken care of.

Shortly after that, the nurse stopped by to check on your dad’s vitals and was joined by the cardiologist, Jin’s uncle.

Your dad needed surgery–and soon. That pain in his leg was a warning sign that there were blocked arteries. You completely missed it because you chalked it up to his existing injury.

You learned that stress and high blood pressure contributed to it. You tried to cook healthier meals for your dad but on some days, he indulged himself.

You wanted to blame yourself–you should have checked in more often and really pushed for more follow-up appointments but he kept brushing you off.

That health scare that he had a few years ago should have been a red flag but he bounced right back and you thought he was alright.

You ended up working more, sacrificing your weekends to try and pay hospital bills and everything else. It was a miracle that you weren’t laid on that hospital bed right now.

But this wasn’t about you. You didn’t have time to think about yourself. There were other priorities and right now? Your dad was number one. You lost your head for a bit but you needed to get a grip.

Since your dad could only walk short distances and couldn’t really exercise, the only viable treatment for him was an angioplasty and stent placement to open up the blocked blood vessels.

Jin’s uncle tried to explain it in the simplest terms but essentially, there was a way to alleviate your dad’s condition and that they would do everything they could to make sure that your dad could live the rest of his life comfortably and lower the risk of this happening again.

It still didn’t ease your worries. Your dad would still have a procedure–and it wasn’t like he was getting any younger. It was still high-risk.

You stared at your reflection through the hospital room’s bathroom mirror. You rubbed your cheeks–ironically trying to will more blood flow into them. You were too pale, eyes were too sunken…you didn’t understand why somebody like Jin would want to spend all this time with you.

You heard the door open and checked to see who it was.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You smiled meekly at Jin, who looked freshly showered and seemed like he got 10 hours of sleep when in fact, he didn’t since he napped at home then stopped by the office for a couple of hours before meeting Namjoon for a late lunch then checking out for the rest of the day.

“How’s he been?”

“He’s stable. I mean–I think that’s the best that we can hope for, for now.”

“That’s good. Did my uncle come by?”

“He did, thank you. This is all…you’ve done so much for me, Jin. I feel like–I feel like saying ‘thank you’ is not enough. I can never repay–”

“No, no. I didn’t do it as a favor or anything. I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to help you out.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Do you want to swing by your place and–get some rest?”

“Uhm–no, I don’t know if I should, in case he wakes up or–”

“YN, I spoke to my uncle. He said they would make sure that he is well taken care of. We don’t have to be away that long. We can come right back,” he assures you.

“I just don’t want to miss anything, in case–”

“I promise you, they will watch him like a hawk. We need to take care of you, too. Okay? C’mon.”

“Okay. But two hours at the most–”

“Not a minute longer,” he says almost instantaneously.

You glanced over at your dad. He was sound asleep but you walked over to give him a kiss on the forehead, whispering to him that you’d be back as soon as possible.

******

Jin drove you home. You knew he had work but he went out of his way to check in on you and your dad.

He was doing so much for you already and it was overwhelming, admittedly. It didn’t help the feelings that bubbled up inside of you.

As soon as you enter your apartment, you couldn’t help but break down. You held back so many emotions that they all just started to burst out of you.

Years of pent up frustration and exhaustion causing you to collapse.

Jin caught you right before your knees buckled from under you and held you tightly.

“Hey–hey…I’m here. I’m here…talk to me.”

You tightened your grip on him as you sobbed.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Jin.”

“Yes you can, YN. You’re so strong–you’re the strongest person I know.”

You snapped then abruptly pushed off him. “But I’m so sick and tired of being strong! I just–” you sobbed some more. “I just want to give up. I’m tired of fighting. When will this be over?”

Jin felt your pain and he wanted to do whatever he could to ease it.

“You don’t have to deal with this alone, YN. I want to help you. Tell me what I can do, please.”

“You don’t get it, Jin. You don’t understand…”

“Then make me understand. I want to! I want to be a part of this–part of your life.”

You shook your head. He had already done plenty for you. He got your dad transferred to a great hospital and called in a favor to his uncle to find a great cardiologist. This was something that you tried to fight off in the last few years. You didn’t want any handouts–and you made that very clear to Jin.

But you were desperate and your pride would cost your father his life if you didn’t take this lifeline. You worried about what he would think of you. You didn’t want him to think that you were only using him.

You calmed down, wiping the tears away from your cheeks. “Why would you want to be part of– this?” You gestured aimlessly around yourself and your surroundings.

“It’s too messy. Not anything that you or your family would want to be caught up in. It’s…just too much baggage.”

“And you don’t think I have baggage to deal with?”

You exhaled sharply. “You can afford to have baggage. You can afford to sweep it under the rug…push it away! I cannot. Best I can do is put it on pause but it will always be there, staring me in the face and reminding me that this is my life and this is all I’m good for.”

“Don’t you ever fucking say that. Don’t ever sell yourself short. I’ve met many people in power who thought they were hot shit but they’re all worthless.”

“I feel like I’m worthless!”

“Stop, YN! You are not worthless. You’re worth so much more–you’ve just been dealt a bad hand. But I see you for who you are–it’s the reason why I…”

You looked right at him and he paused. You were at your most vulnerable. You weren’t your typically sassy, dark-humored self around him. You weren’t trying to make light of this pathetic situation that you were in. Tonight, you were laid bare for him–no walls or barriers.

“What?” You said quietly, urging him to continue.

He decided to close in on you–he was done fighting it, too.

“It’s the reason why I’ve fallen for you.”

You blinked profusely. “Wh-what?”

He took another step towards you. He towered over you not just physically but in terms of social status. But he didn’t look at it that way. He wanted to close that gap and be leveled with you.

“I love you, YN,” he said, wiping the final traces of your tears.

His declaration sent shockwaves through you.

“Y-you can’t just say things like that, Jin. You can’t just—“

“Can’t what? Be with you? Love you? Why not?”

He searched your eyes for answers.

“Give me one good reason why.”

This would have been an easier answer if he just went back to being the mysterious, broody guy who ordered coffee at the diner and not the multi-millionaire that he was.

You knew what you felt for him. In fact, you’ve been feeling it for a while and it has since intensified since he told you that he couldn’t stay away from you.

However, you pushed that feeling aside because you were afraid, afraid that he didn’t feel the same way. It would feel painfully uneven…imbalanced. He was who he was and well…you were ‘you’.

You weren’t the type of person who often wasted energy on what other people thought about you. You kept your head down, tried to blend in, to avoid drawing too much attention to yourself.

Kim Seokjin? While you appreciated how he kept things about his life low-key, everything and everyone around him were anything but.

Rich boy and struggle-girl…that was the stuff that soap operas were made of. But this was real life…your life. There were so many reasons why you didn’t think you should be with him…why you shouldn’t feel this way about him.

And yet, none of them were good enough.

“I can’t…because…” You said quietly.

You swallowed hard and peered up at him. He was here, right in front of you, offering his heart and soul to you. With all these thoughts swimming in your head—why wouldn’t you want to jump right in?

“I love you, too.” It was barely a whisper but his heart heard it…and you meant every word.

He gently cradled your face in his hands and started closing in. With your noses touching, you met him in the middle and sealed your mouth to his.

Your kisses, flavored by the salt of your tears, started softly and built into a steady hunger. Both your lips desperately moving over each other’s…as if time was running out and you hadn’t had your fill yet.

Your fingers fisted at his hair while he licked deeply into your mouth.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

It made your heart lurch that he had to ask when he had effectively taken the liberty of doing so. “Yes…please,” you breathed out, not even trying to hide how needy you’ve become.

You saw him glance over at the couch and you let him pull you towards it.

He rids you off your top while he lets you unzip his sweatshirt.

You had to admit that you were a little nervous since it’s been such an embarrassingly long time…and now this gorgeous man is right in front of you–allowing you to strip him off his clothes on your couch.

His fingers laced around the back of your neck urging you closer to him.

All those nights that you sat across from him at the diner, your Sunday lunches, the times he’d driven you home, you wondered what it was like to kiss him…and love him.

He moved from your mouth down to your neck, gently sucking the skin on your collarbone.

You felt a gush of moisture soak through you…you let go of every ounce of control that you hung onto because were desperate for him now.

With one swift move, he unclasps your bra and moves his mouth to your chest while he lowered you further until your head hit the armrest.

Your breath hitches as he wraps his plush lips around an aching nipple.

You swore right then that you’d orgasm from the feeling alone…but he was just getting started with you.

He undoes your jeans and carefully pulls them off you.

You were completely bare for him, hypnotized by his desire for you at this moment.

You kept your eyes at him, unable to look away as pulls your legs apart and gave your inner thighs gentle kisses. He locked eyes with you and kept contact while you watched him sink his mouth onto your cleft.

You sucked in a harsh breath while he tongued you. You felt every lick and every suction of his mouth onto your moist, swollen lips.

Your walls clenched achingly at nothing while he continued to give you quite possibly the best oral of your life. Your breath began to stutter as you shamelessly bucked your hips against his mouth, desperate for a release.

You felt him dip two fingers into you…pulling them in and out lazily while his tongue fluttered over your clit.

Your body bowed at the assault and it wasn’t long before your orgasm rips right through you.

Your throat tightened further as he got his last two licks in before you came down from your high. You were about to pass out from the pleasure when you saw him fish out a foil packet from his wallet.

You sat yourself up, meeting him halfway as he sank between your thighs. You kissed him with so much eagerness…oddly enough, to make sure that this was actually happening.

Your mouth stilled as you felt him slowly enter you. You sucked in a breath while your core stretched around him.

He urged you to lay back down while he pushed the rest of his length into you.

“Fuh…,” was all you managed to breathe out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head as pure, electrically charged desire coursed through your body.

You looked back at him, a pained look on his face from how tight you were for him. You gave him a small nod of assurance to let him know that you were okay.

He started to move his hips slowly until he found a consistent rhythm.

He lowered himself further against your body and wrapped your leg around his waist. He thrusted in and out of you at a steady pace while your core tightened further around him along with another orgasm building up.

“Fuck, YN…I want you—so much,” he choked out in between breaths.

“You have me…I’m yours,” you breathed out before he sealed his mouth onto yours, moaning in pleasure.

Your nails raked his back–from his shoulders and down to his hips that relentlessly railed into you.

“Don’t stop,” you whined as you edged closer to another orgasm.

“I won’t…I can’t. You’re too good to me,” he said as your muscles clenched around his cock while he repeatedly hit you deep into your core.

The next thing you knew, he had tipped you over the edge.

A few more thrusts and he was arching his back as his own climax coursed through him.

As you laid together catching your breath, you forgot about your worries. They would still be there when you walked out that door.

While your thoughts flooded back into you, you felt his fingertips graze your moistened brow before planting a chaste kiss on your lips, reminding you that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

Soon after, you were knocked back into reality. You took a quick shower while Jin waited patiently for you to finish up and pack a change of clothes before making the trip back to the hospital.

Something between you had shifted. Moments before you walked out of your home, he pulled you back into his arms and kissed you.

“Hey…I love you. And I meant what I said earlier…you don’t have to face this alone. I’m here, okay? I want you to know that.”

You smiled and kissed him once more. “I love you, too. And thank you…for everything.”

The ride back to the hospital was quiet but he had his fingers laced with yours the whole time, saved for when he had to shift gears.

Your dad was awake when you arrived in his room. You were so happy to see him alert and attempting to make jokes. Shortly after, the nurse kindly berated him for being too animated as he had to rest before his procedure the following day.

You offered to sleep by his side but he waved you off citing the bags under your eyes and how gaunt you were starting to look.

“Gee, thanks dad–I took a shower, too you know,” you snarked.

“There’s nothing for you here, sweetheart. Go home and sleep, please. They’re taking great care of me,” he says, trying to offer you some comfort.

“But dad…”

“Jin–can you please drag my daughter away before she gives me another coronary? I’m not supposed to be stressed,” he says, turning to him.

You had a determined look, wanting to argue.

“I think I’m feeling chest pains again,” your dad says, gingerly rubbing his chest.

Your jaw drops as you rush towards him. “Should I call the nurse?”

“No, but I assure you, it will pass once you leave this room and get some sleep at home.”

You rolled your eyes and begrudgingly relented. “Fine, but I will leave very specific instructions to the nurse to call me at any point if anything changes, okay?”

You bent over to give him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, dad. I will be back first thing in the morning to check in, alright?”

“Love you, too, kid. Now shoo,” he says softly while he gently fanned his hand so you could leave.

******

On the drive home, you called into the diner and gave Yoongi a quick update on your dad’s condition. You apologized for leaving a hasty message last night about not being able to make it to work.

He assured you that you had nothing to worry about and to take care of your family first and that Jimin had actually managed not to scare off the new girl with his relentless flirting.

You picked up some fast food on the way back–too tired and hungry to wait for food delivery.

“Are you alright,” he asked while you both sat on the couch.

“I’m nervous about tomorrow,” you admitted while staring blankly at the TV.

“I get it. It’s heart surgery. My dad actually had a similar procedure done years ago. I think he was more afraid that his little brother was doing it,” he laughed.

You almost snapped your neck at how quickly you whipped it around to face him.

He bulged his eyes realizing his mistake. “Oh–god, I’m not saying my uncle is terrible–he’s one of the top cardiologists in the country. I’m just saying–my dad was nervous that my uncle would try to get back at him for all those years of taunting and teasing–maybe replace his heart with a goat’s or something,” he chuckled.

“Oh…” you said, realizing the humor in it and allowing yourself to laugh after a stressful few days.

“You’re so beautiful when you laugh,” he uttered.

You felt yourself shrink at the compliment.

He pulls your chin up gently.

“You know, you need to just learn to accept compliments. Otherwise, I’ll think that I’m losing my game here,” he says with an eyebrow cocked.

You scoffed. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well…yeah. I want to know whether my winks still work, you know.”

You thought back to that time that he did wink at you after offering to take you to grab some dessert one night–it definitely had its own magic.

“Do one right now then,” you dared him.

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t just summon it out of nowhere,” he says, throwing his hands up.

“Maybe…” you sighed then took him by surprise by straddling his waist. “Maybe it wasn’t impressive to begin with,” you teased as you chewed at your bottom lip.

“Oh no?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe you should stop doing that and figure out a new thing.”

“You want me to stop, huh?”

You hummed.

“That’s not what you said earlier,” he said with a lower, husky register which made your breath hitch as you stared at him–and then he winked…which instantly got your juices flowing between your thighs once more.

He gripped your thighs and you felt yourself lift off the couch as you both moved into your bedroom.

As you both started drifting off after another multi-orgasm session, you traced his facial features with your fingertips while you exchanged feather-light kisses.

He was in the moment–not thinking about anybody or anything else. You were the present and he was willing to surrender himself to you.

You decided to silently claim him for yourself and it was selfish, you thought. But after all these years of putting yourself last, maybe it was time that you deserved to be first.

Part 5◥

Taglist: @deepseavibez @shameless-army @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @twogyuu @jakepralta @arisud [open]

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Merely Players (Bucky x Clint)

Community theater AU! For my Winterhawk Bingo square “Captain America!Clint/Winter Soldier!Bucky.” 

Word Count: ~1700

Rating: PG

Absolute fluffy silliness with lots of cameos. I just needed a break from working on Sweet Home Was Home, tbh, and I’ve had this idea in the back of my head for a while. There will probably be at least two more parts to this, because I started mentally casting the show and couldn’t not write it all out. It’s full-on meta madness and I love it.   

Bucky flips through the script, increasingly baffled. The margins are already full of Steve’s tidy cursive notes. 

“Who the fuck wrote this shit?” he asks, scanning the page. 

“Isn’t it interesting?” Steve says happily. “You want coffee?” 

“I had one beer and I live three minutes away, Steve,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Interesting is… not the word I would’ve chosen. No offense to Peggy, I’m sure the songs are fantastic, but this is fucking bizarre. Superheroes? Brainwashing? Who came up with this shit?” 

“The playwright’s name is Nicholas Fury, but I think that’s a pseudonym, because I can’t find anything about him online. It was Stark’s call, though. Apparently he has some personal investment in getting this staged, he’s funding the whole damn thing.” 

“So… it’s somebody’s vanity project?” 

“No,” Steve says huffily. “C’mon, you really don’t want to audition? You used to love theater!” 

“In high school. Before I got blown up.” 

“It’ll be good for you to get out a bit. Make some new friends.” 

Bucky ignores that and flips through a few more pages. “These names are fuckin’ absurd, even for goddamn superheroes. And how the hell are you going to stage these stunts? You want somebody flying around on webs?” 

“That’s where Tony really comes in,” Steve says excitedly. “He’s offering to pay for all the construction, but also, the guy is a genius. I’ve never met him but I saw a video of this thing he did for last year’s Fringe Festival, he made a robot that actually moved around the stage.” 

Okay, that does sound cool. But still. 

“The lead is named Captain America, for fuck’s sake.” 

“Sam’s auditioning, did I tell you that?” 

“Oh boy,” Bucky says flatly. 

“You guys are going to get along great once you actually talk to each other. And Thor! You liked Thor, right?” 

Bucky shrugs. “We only met that once. But yeah, sure.” It’s very hard not to like the self-proclaimed God of Lighting. 

“Do you remember Natasha Romanoff? She moved back to the area last year, she’s the choreographer.” 

“Course I do. It’ll be nice to see her.” 

“It’s gonna be great, Buck. Will you be my assistant director, at least?” Steve wheedles. “C’mon, I don’t care what you’re doing, I just want you around for moral support. Please?” 

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But there’s no way in hell you’re getting me on a stage.” 

Famous last words.  

Clint spots a few familiar faces when he walks in. The Maximoffs are in one corner, talking to Sam, who gives Clint a grin. Jessica is sitting on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, arms crossed, completely still — she looks like she’s just judging everybody silently from behind her massive sunglasses, but Clint knows her well enough to guess that she’s napping off a hangover. Eddie is sitting with his back to the wall, squinting up at the ceiling blearily — and you’d think he was hungover, or maybe still drunk, but that’s just how he always looks, as far as Clint can tell. 

Kate waves from another corner, where she’s stretching with Yelena. 

“Where’ve you been?” she asks. “They should be starting any minute now.” 

“A wizard is never late, Kate Bishop,” he tells her. She raises a judgmental eyebrow in the direction of his venti extra-whip frappuccino. 

Also, he thought auditions started at 11, not 10. Oops. 

When they head into the theater, Nat’s leaning against the side of the stage chatting with Steve and a guy Clint doesn’t know. The part of his face that Clint can see involves a really fucking pretty jawline, which Clint would like to lick, pleaseandthankyou. 

He catches Nat’s eye. She raises an eyebrow in his direction, giving him a little wave, and the pretty dude turns as well, revealing a fucking fantastic face. 

Clint maybe trips over his own feet because he’s too busy staring, but at least he doesn’t drop his Starbucks. 

“Put your eyes back in your head, Barton,” Yelena tells him. 

“Save me a seat? I’m gonna go say hi to Nat.” 

“You mean get the dirt on Cheekbones?” Kate teases, and he flips her off over his shoulder. 

Nat meets him halfway. 

“I don’t think I know that guy,” Clint says, totally casual. Natasha follows the line of his gaze and smirks. 

“James? Steve’s best friend. Better known as Bucky. We dated, way back when. He broke my heart.” 

“Wait, really?” Clint says incredulously. 

“Mm. Asked for his ring back and everything. Very sad.” 

“Oh.” 

Well, shit. He’s never actually heard Nat admit to anybody breaking her heart. He immediately vows to hate the guy. Figures that the cute ones are always straight, assholes, or both. 

Steve jumps up from his chair and starts gesticulating wildly at another guy Clint’s never met. 

“Who’s that?” Clint asks. 

“The guy with the sunglasses is Matt Murdock, our vocal coach. And the other guy is Tony Stark. In the two hours I’ve known him, he’s made three stupid jokes about Matt being blind, so I’m gonna guess that right there is the aftermath of number four.” 

“Matt doesn’t seem to mind,” Clint observes. Matt is in fact muttering something to Bucky under his breath that is making Bucky smirk like a motherfucker, and Clint chokes on his own tongue a little bit. That smirk might kill him. 

“No, he’s very… patient,” Natasha says, with the absolute faintest hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. “But you know Steve.”  

“Patient, huh?” Clint asks gleefully. She elbows him. “Ow.” 

“There may be some appeal to the idea of a guy who doesn’t stare at my tits all day.” 

Fair enough.

Steve’s working himself up into full righteous fury mode, and Clint watches bemusedly as Stark laughs in his increasingly red face. 

“Twenty says they fuck at the closing party,” Clint says. 

“My money’s on tech night,” Natasha replies. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go intervene before Steve does something stupid. Break a leg.” 

If Tony fucking Stark says one more fucking word, Steve might punch him in his stupid pretty mouth. Asshole. 

“I’m telling you, it’s gotta be Wilson,” Stark says. 

“And I’m telling you, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve snaps. 

“Steve’s right,” Natasha says quietly, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. “Sam is great, but there’s no menace in him.” 

Stark’s bouncing his knee so fast it looks like he’s vibrating. Nat reaches out slowly and takes his coffee out of his hand, raising an eyebrow. Stark opens his mouth to argue and then clearly thinks better of it, so maybe he’s not quite as dumb as he looks. 

“Fuck. Maybe I could convince Banner to audition?” Steve says, without much real hope. 

“There’s no way in hell, Steve,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes. “Behind the scenes only, he made it very clear.” 

“What about Parker? He’s the only other one who can sing worth a damn,” Stark says. 

“You’re shittin’ us, right?” Bucky asks bluntly.

“What’s wrong with that idea? Granted, with the difference in height and muscle mass, a fight between him and Barton might be challenging, but Loki is great at body painting, and —”

“It’d look stupid as shit,” Bucky interrupts. Steve manages to turn his laugh into a snort. 

“What about you, James?” Murdock says thoughtfully. Everybody turns to look at him. 

“What the fuck about me?” Bucky growls. He casts a furtive look back to where Barton’s sitting; then he turns bright red and looks even angrier, which Steve recognizes as a sure sign that Bucky’s got a crush.

“Steve said you have a wonderful voice.” 

“Did you pay him to say this?” Bucky asks Steve furiously. “Because I swear —” 

Murdock laughs. “No, he most definitely did not.” 

“It’s worth a try, at least,” Natasha says. 

“Et tu, Nat?” 

She gives him a look. “James.”

Bucky holds eye contact for all of two seconds before letting off a string of curses in Russian. Steve resists the urge to jump up and down. 

Clint’s been her best friend for years now, but Natasha’s still amazed by what he can do, sometimes. Off-stage, he can’t take two steps without tripping. On-stage, he’s a force of nature. 

James is brilliant, too, but what really sells it is the chemistry between the two of them; it’s just a read-through, but the energy is electric. There’s this fire in Clint’s eyes that he only manages in real life when he hears about somebody mistreating an animal. 

He’s a marshmallow, but he’s her marshmallow. 

As for James… well, he’s also a marshmallow; he just hides it exceptionally well. 

There isn’t much of a difference between the Soldier he’s playing and the one Steve has talked about seeing since James was discharged. It can’t be an easy thing to live with, but it’s a hell of a thing to watch onstage; Natasha feels a pang of sympathy at the wounded, haunted look in his eyes. He prowls forward, advancing on “Captain America,” physically menacing in spite of the emotion in his face, and Clint clenches his jaw in a silent dare. 

“Holy sexual tension, Batman,” Stark comments under his breath, and if Natasha didn’t find him so incredibly irritating, she’d agree out loud.

“Barnes is strong, isn’t he?” Murdock says quietly to Natasha’s left. His head is tilted like he’s deep in thought. 

“Very,” she says. “How can you tell?” 

“I have my ways.” He’s wearing this tiny smug smile that’s entirely too intriguing. 

“Remember that time in Kindergarten when you beat him up?” Steve says fondly. 

“How could I forget? He proposed as soon as he stopped crying.” 

“What did you say?” Murdock asks. 

“I told him to come back with a blue raspberry Ring Pop,” Natasha says. “And he did. But then he decided he wanted to eat it, so that was that.” 

“Ah, young love.” 

[lauras-collection]

beyond being friends | part 1

Harrison Osterfield x Holland!Reader

|| Masterlist || Series Masterlist ||

Summary: What happens when you suddenly realise you’re attracted to your brother’s best friend?

When you and Harrison cross the line between friendship and something more, it makes everything more complicated than the average ‘being more than friends’ relationship. Because he’s your brothers best friend and you’re all living together.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of toxic  (ex)friendships, smut in future chapters

A/N: THIS IS NOT A DRILL! It’s finally here! Can you believe it, because i can’t. I hope you like it!

special thanks to @duskholland​ for coming up with the title so i could keep the BBF abbreviation without downright calling it Brother’s Best Friend and being BBF’s biggest fan since the first time i told you about it 🥺

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

You always thought that when you’d eventually move out, you’d move into a small flat in the city centre or student housing for uni. But you never imagined moving into a house that’s a literal five-minute walk from your parents' house with two of your brothers and their best friend. With Tuwaine moving out because of his new job, a room in Tom’s house became available and since Sam had his own place close to his cookery school, you’d been the first person to be asked to take the room. And you jumped at the opportunity.

You liked to be around your parents and Paddy, but you did crave a bit of the independence your older brothers seemed to have. Granted, Harry and Sam were only minutes older than you, but they never failed to remind you of that. Either way, you were now no longer living with your parents and it filled you with a sense of pride. 

Okay, you didn’t have to pay rent, just part of the additional costs, which was not really part of the typical experience when moving out, but you won’t complain. There has to be a benefit to your brother being an international movie star, right? 

“How do you feel now that you’re the only one living in this house who isn’t a Holland?” Tuwaine asks Harrison who’s leaning against the kitchen island his arms crossed over his chest.

“At this point, he might as well be” Sam interjects before Harrison can even open his mouth. “I swear he spends more time with our family than I do” 

“That’s because you’re too busy becoming the next Gordon Ramsey” Tom teases and nudges Sam’s shoulder. 

“Funny” Sam looks at him with a deadpan expression, you can’t help but snigger. 

“Hey, you’re the one who’s away for the majority of the year” You jump to Sam’s defence. Because if one of the Holland siblings is too busy for anything it’s Tom.

“Fair enough” Tom raises his hands in surrender. 

“How long was it that you’re leaving next time? Six months?” Harrison raises one eyebrow.

“Oh c’mon, it’s only four” Tom rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He’s laughing, but all of you know that he hates being gone from home for so long. That’s why he takes someone with him most of the times. This time, Harry will join him in New York, leaving you and Harrison living alone in the house.

You knew it was going to be rare that all four of you would be staying at the house at the same time, but it was still sad to think about. All of you are family people, you love to be around the people you love. And with Tom’s job sending him all around the world, you didn’t get to see him a lot. 

“I’m gonna miss you guys” You pout and Tom immediately comes over and gives you a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, too.” Soon you feel another pair of arms wrap around you, without looking you know it’s Harry. And then the other boys join as well and you’re one big pile of people hugging in the middle of the kitchen.

*

“Morning” You mumble as you shuffle into the kitchen where Harrison is currently making himself a tea. He looks at you over his shoulder with a grin and you wonder how someone can have so much energy in the morning.

“Good morning, sunshine” He has to bite back a laugh and you only manage to grumble something unintelligible. You’re not really a morning person. 

Yesterday was as draining as a day of moving can be and then Sam stayed over because he drank a little too much and he kept kicking you during the night. So you’re certain you look like a mess but you don’t care, it’s not like Harrison has never seen you like this before. 

“Tea?” Harrison offers you a mug and you take it from him gratefully.

“Thanks” You let out a sigh as soon as you take the first sip. Harrison makes a mean tea. It’s got the perfect temperature, too.

“Rough first night?” He asks and pours himself a cuppa as well.

You must pull a face because Harrison is looking at you amused again. “Sam kicks in his sleep when he drinks” Both of you move to the table in the dining room. You let yourself fall into one of the chairs. “I swear he woke me up with a kick every five minutes” 

“Sucks to be you” Harrison laughs as you glare at him. You’re just about to give him the finger when a well-rested Sam enters the room. You can’t even react as quickly as he’s got your mug in his hands and drinks your tea.

“Hey! That’s mine!” You attempt to grab the mug from him, but because he’s a little shit he pulls it out of your reach and you’re too tired to fight for it. You watch dumbfounded as he goes back upstairs, with your tea.“I hate you” You call after him and slump down in your chair. 

“Hmm, you love me” Sam calls back. Of course, he’s right, but right now you’re not his biggest fan. You’re about to get up to make yourself another cup but Harrison beats you to it. 

“I’ve got it” 

“You’re already my favourite housemate, you know that?” You call after him and you hear him chuckle. Not long after, another perfect cup of tea is placed in front of you. 

“You’re the best” 

“Hey, what about me?” Harry comes strolling into the living room, his hands placed on his chest in mock offence. 

“You never make me tea in the morning, so you’re not even part of the competition.” 

“I’m wounded, sis” 

“Get over it, bro” Harry sits down next to you and ruffles your already messy hair. You don’t even muster up the energy to complain. Why are your brothers such a pain? Why can’t they be as lovely as Harrison who makes you tea without you even asking for it? 

“You look like shit,” Harry says as he rests his chin on his hand and looks at you.

“Thanks” – you glare at him – “That’s because I didn’t get any sleep because Sam kept kicking me” 

“Brutal” Harry doesn’t sound one bit sympathetic. 

“He’s staying in your room the next time he’s drunk” 

Harrison just watches the two of you with amusement while he sips his tea. 

Sam was right when he said that Harrison might as well be part of your family. For almost ten years he’s been Tom’s best friend now and you couldn’t even really remember what it was like without Harrison in your lives. You’d been twelve the first time he came over and to say you had a little bit of a crush on him would be… accurate. He’d intrigued you. With his blue eyes, blond hair and that little smirk he still had today he’d been the cutest boy you’d ever seen. 

Of course, he’d never seen you like that. What fifteen-year-old boy was interested in his best friend’s little sister? And you eventually grew out of that crush. Your high school friends on the other hand didn’t. And maybe that was why you were no longer interested in him. 

It took you a while to realise that the main reasons they always wanted to hang out at your place were Harrison and Tom. But when you did you felt a little lost. Was the only reason you had friends your brother? Was that all you could offer them? Because as soon as you refused to host any more sleepovers at your place you were quickly disregarded from the group. 

Now, a few years later, you could see that you’d rather have no friends than those girls, but at the time it was hard. The good thing about having four brothers, though, was that you’d never be without friends. Your brothers were your support system. They cheered you up and dragged you along to whatever mischief they were up to. And when Tom’s career took off and your old ‘friends’ tried to reach out to you, you just rolled your eyes. 

You were happy that Tom had found such great friends in Harrison and Tuwaine. Friends who were there for him and not his popularity or fame. Tom was a great judge of character and that was one thing you’d always admired about him. While you were a little naive at times and trusted people blindly, he knew who he could count on. And now, all of you were a tight-knit group of people you wouldn’t give up for the world.

 That’s why you aren’t even the slightest bit worried about living in the house with Harrison for four months. You’re close friends. What is there to worry about other than household chores? Living with him should be plain sailing, right? 

A/N: thank you for reading!!! this part was a little introduction to the story, I promise there’s going to be more happening in part two! I’ve got so much planned for this and I hope you’re as excited for the next 11 parts as i am 😅❤️ 

want to be tagged? you can find the link to my taglist form in my bio

mutuals that might be interested (I’m just gonna tag you for this first part): @terrifictomholland​ @stuckonspidey​ @selfcarecap​

everything taglist: @spidermanlondon​ // @averyfosterthoughts​ // @duskholland​ // @tutuabby28​ // @missevrythingg​ // @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ // @thenoddingbunny-blog​ // @emilykjh​ // @clara-licht​ // @hollandfanficlove​ // @calltothewild​ // @crybabyalexxx​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @calsthomas​ // @quaksonhehe​ // @geminiparkers​ // @thirzaholland // @tombrina​ // @outshineallthestars​ // @serendipitous-amor​ // @soincredible​ // @trustfundparker​ // @localfangirlx​ // @writertoo18​ // @r3ader // @viagracex​ // @skamlover200​ // @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ // @wehavetomakeourheartssitstill​ // @thearchersupremacy​ // @itstaskeen​ // @camimndess​ // @allyz​ // @technosoot​ // @fanficscuziranout​ // @parker-hollandx​ // @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ // @dangerouslovefanfic​ // @ertherealrose​ // @i-married-a-pineapple​ // @miraclesoflove​ // @bi-girlwrites-2000​ // @seasidetom​ // @katcontrreras​ // * @determined-overthinker​ * // @fallingforfics​ // @destinedbooklover // @parkerpeter24​

bbf taglist: @m-a-r-i-n-t​ // @mrs-hollandstan​ // @unicorn-princess-1999​ // @mimisparkle12​ // @bearsbeetsbarnes​ // @annathesillyfriend​ // @sydsquibbles​ // @vapingisntmything​ // @littlebookbengal​ // @quethekillerqueen​ // @love-makes-all-things-beautiful // @swiftmind​ // @pearly-pisces​ //

harrison osterfield taglist: @hjoficrecs​ // @lolychu​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @hollandbroz-n-haz​

series taglist: @softholand​ // @svturtles​ // @cloverrover​

[doublekrecs]

More Than Physics

Spencer Reid x reader

Synopsis: you notice your ta in the library and ask him for a lesson in physics to which you pay him back with pizza and a lesson in sex

Warnings: smut (no p in v action), oral (male receiving), mutual masturbation

a/n: sorry this took so long, it’s been quite a week. but i'm thinking of making this a series depending on if you like it. anyways, i hope enjoy my angels! -🧞‍♀️

also thank you guys for 400 followers!! the love means everything to us:)

part 2

They always say life just blows right past you. Which you used to think was a load of bullshit, but now on your last year of college you’re sitting in the library on the verge of tears over your physics class, reminiscing on a time long ago when freshman year you was most likely at some frat party grinding up on some beefy blond named Steve. 

You let out a loud sigh, looking around to make sure you weren’t disrupting anyone. You weren’t. The library was almost completely empty, besides just you there was a small group of people actively note taking with highlighters scattered around the table and the biggest cups of what you assumed to be coffee. Looking over to your left you saw an oddly familiar mop of curly brown hair nose deep in a thick book. Wait it was Spencer.

He was the TA for your physics class, always enthusiastic and ready to help anyone. You honestly thought he was just happy anyone was willing to listen to his rambles. From what you’ve seen he was humble for being such a genius and seemed like a really sweet guy. Always flashing you a kind smile and opening doors for anyone around him. 

Which is why you felt a sense of relief wash over you when you saw him. You had been struggling with this unit in class and no method of studying had been helping you retain knowledge. So what better way to get help than from the resident genius himself. 

You packed your stuff and made your way over to the table he set camp at. Loads of novels you couldn’t imagine yourself reading sat in stacks next to him. You tapped him on the shoulder to which he flinched after being taken out of the fantasy world he was immersed in. Looking up he offered you the same kind smile as always before whispering, “Oh hi y/n.” 

“Hey Spencer” you smiled back.

He moved a stack of books off of the chair next to his offering you a place to sit. You set your stuff down and his eyes went to the physics book in front of you. 

“How's the studying going?” he asked, putting his full attention on you. One thing about him you always admired was the way he really listened to people. No matter who it was he always made people feel heard. 

“Not so good” he frowned at the sad tone in your voice, “But I was hoping that a certain TA would be able to spare a fellow peer some help” you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Of course, what do you need?” 

You guys had spent the better part of two hours with him helping you set up notes and explaining certain topics to the best of his ability. You noticed him yawn and check his watch. “What time is it,” you asked, trying to suppress a yawn of your own. 

“Just hit 11, the library closes in 30 minutes if you wanna stay and finish up,” he said, stretching his back out from sitting for so long. 

“No, I think we’ve done enough work for today.” You both started to pack your stuff up, making small talk as you walked out of the building. 

“Hey Spence,” he stopped walking and turned to look at you, “I really wanna thank you for all your help today. Is there any way I can repay you for this? OH! I can take you to dinner, we can go to the little pizza place around the corner. It's on me,” you offered nodding with a wide smile. 

He smiled back at your enthusiasm, “You really don’t have to thank me, I'm glad I was able to help. But I won’t say no to a slice of pizza.” 

You led him to the little spot off campus, which he of course opened the door for you. The waiter took you to a little booth where you both ordered a soda before skimming the menu. The place was cute, very homey with warm lights and oldies playing softly in the back. There was a comfortable silence before the waiter came back and took your orders. 

Spencer was very easy to talk to as he had knowledge on all topics. However you wanted to know more about him personally. So you suggested a game. Never have I ever. Yes it was childish but hey, all good friendships have to start somewhere. 

“Ok I’ll start with an example and you put a finger down if you’ve done it.” he nodded taking a bite of his pizza. You took a second to think of where to begin, “Alright never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you stated and his eyes widened a little bit. 

He shook his head no as you encouraged him to ask a question. “Um never have I ever failed a class.” 

“Spence no,” he frowned. “This is supposed to be fun, ask risky questions c’mon don’t be shy,” you looked at him encouragingly, “what happens at the booth stays in the booth,” you said tapping on the table for emphasis.

He took your words to heart as he waited a while trying to come up with a question. “Alright, never have I ever had more than 4 partners.” you put a finger down and looked at him confused. “How many people have you dated?” he took a sip of his coke before replying, “just one.” 

“Huh,” “What?” 

“C’mon Spence you’re telling me a genius like you doesn’t have girls lined up around the corner” you said raising a suggestive eyebrow. He giggled and shook his head no looking down. 

_

The game continued but keeping track of fingers was forgotten. Pizza was long gone and the bill was paid, now it was just you guys enjoying each others company.  It was obvious Spencer was breaking out of his comfort zone as the questions kept on getting riskier. Which is how you got into the topic of sex. You had found out that apparently he had almost no experience in any of it. 

“Y/n I just don’t see what the big deal is. I mean I do ya know.. get off, so what's the point,” he said playing with his napkin. You could tell he was a little embarrassed at the admission by the tinge of pink on his cheeks. 

“The point is that sex is normal and fun and something you should be experiencing.” 

“I don’t know. I just don’t wanna have one night with a stranger then be laughed at for being inexperienced.” 

Suddenly a lightbulb appeared above your head. 

“Spencer I have an idea. And please just hear me out,” he looked at you wearily before you continued, “let me tutor you in sex stuff.”

You swear he was gonna explode at how red he was, mouth gaping like a fish out of water trying to find words to respond. 

“Listen, you spent the night helping me with something I struggle in. Let me help you with something you’re struggling in. And it could be fun, ya know just some stress relief and you get to learn some new skills.” 

Spencer was taken back by your offer. He really wanted to accept, I mean come on it's not everyday a pretty girl just offers you to have sex with her. Let alone buy you pizza beforehand. 

You might have looked collected on the outside, sipping on your dr.pepper, giving Spencer time to answer but on the inside you were a mess. What if you had pushed him too far. Why did you think it was a good idea to just offer up something like that. Your thoughts were cut off by a voice in front of you speaking up. 

“Yeah.. Let's do it.” Now you were the one gaping like s fish. But you quickly recomposed yourself. 

You looked at him with a devilish smile, reaching over the table to grab his hand. “Well then Spence, let’s go shall we?” He laced your fingers together as you got up, matching your smile. 

_

In no time you were in your dorm after the brisk walk. Little conversation was made and you were starting to think maybe he was starting to regret agreeing. Unlocking the door you looked over at him nervously biting his pink lip, something you’d like to do. “You can just come in and we can watch a movie if you want. I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.” 

He looked over at you, big brown eyes gazing softly into yours, “I really wanna do this. Please.” 

“Alright pretty boy make yourself comfortable we’ll start off easy.”

You guided him to sit on your couch as you sat next to him. There was a moment of silence where you both just looked from each other's eyes to lips longingly. Neither were sure who leaned in first but your lips met in the middle, calm at first before the storm. His hands went to grasp the sides of your face, pulling you further into him. You took the time to adjust and settle on his lap, one hand on his shoulder while the other nested in his hair, causing him to let a groan in your mouth when you tugged it slightly. You’d save that for another time.

The time came for you both to pull away for air. His forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath. 

“As great as that was,” you said punctuating with a kiss. He tried to chase your lips as you pulled away to continue talking. “You can move your hands, I won’t break. Nowhere is out of bounds,” you said nodding encouragingly. 

His hands were warm, moving down slowly to your hips. You leaned back in, this time the kisses were slower but held the same desire. Again his hands stayed in the same place so you put yours over his and guided them up and down. He gained some confidence after you let go, his hands now straying to your ass giving it a squeeze. You could feel the smile on his lips at the gasp you let out. 

Making out soon led to desperate whimpers and a steady grind of trying to gain more friction. The feel of him hardening beneath you made you moan as the thin fabric of the leggings you were wearing did little to nothing to conceal it. You pulled away to start pressing wet kisses to his neck. You knew you had found his sweet spot under his ear when he shuddered. Your hand went down to palm him over his pants. Spencer jolted at the touch. 

“Fuck y/n,” he let out as a soft sigh. You took the opportunity to unzip his pants. Looking into his auburn eyes for confirmation to keep going he gave a silent nod, prompting you to take him out of his pants. It was pretty and pink, already weeping with precum you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on. Wasting no time you used your thumb to swipe some off to use as lubricant to start pumping his shaft. 

You went down to a spot between his knees, taking his hand in yours to set in your hair. He seemed to catch on quick as he pushed some out of your face to see your pretty eyes looking up at him while you sucked him off.  Under his soft exterior, shockingly Spencer swore like a sailor. Letting out constant “shit you’re so good” or a long “fuck” under his breath. 

You could tell he was getting close by the way you felt his cock throbbing. You stopped sucking, instead using your hand to keep stimulating him as you said, “It’s alright Spence you’re doing so good for me. Where do you wanna cum?” His eyes shifting down to your low cut v-neck said it all. You motioned for him to replace your hand with his own, quickly discarding the shirt leaving you in a pretty lacy bra. He was confused as to what you were doing when you started to pull off your leggings, but as your hand slipped down into your matching panties things started clicking. 

You were already worked up from the heavy touching and listening to his groans that it was easy for you to slip a finger into your wet heat, letting out a moan at the feeling. His eyes kept on roaming all over your body. The sight of your chest heaving and the glistening between your thighs was enough to set him off. 

You added another finger and matched the pace he was pumping himself at. Not taking your eyes off his hands, so big and veiny. 

“Ah Spencer, I'm so close baby. Please cum with me,” you let out along with little whimpers. Hearing his name on your lips was his end as his orgasm washed over him. Ropes of his cum spilling over his palm. Your release came soon after, rubbing your clit, gasping at the tightness in your tummy bursting. 

You both calmed down and met each other's gaze with a soft smile. Picking up your t-shirt you told him to stay put as you went to grab a towel for him to clean up. “So, not bad for our first ‘lesson’, you said walking back and sitting next to him. 

His cheeks were tinted pink from seeing how exposed you were in front of him but he had the courage to respond, “Not bad at all. I can’t wait for what else you can show me.”

[kharti]

[ Drown My Will to Fly #11 ]

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Izzy didn’t know how to just be happy. Anyone else would have been whistling and clicking their heels, he was sure of it. That’s what he assumed happy people did when they were doing what they were best at—being a First Mate and keeping a ship running, in his case—and being showered with affection.

      ( Continue reading on AO3 or... )

Izzy didn’t know how to just be happy. Anyone else would have been whistling and clicking their heels, he was sure of it. That’s what he assumed happy people did when they were doing what they were best at—being a First Mate and keeping a ship running, in his case—and being showered with affection.

Except it wasn’t affection, was it?

Jack would sleep with anything that moved. Sex was just… an activity. Something fun to do in between drinking and eating.

Izzy wasn’t special. Regardless of the things Jack would say in bed, that’s all they were—things he said in bed.

At least with Blackbeard, there had been no questions. No uncertainty. Their arrangement was clear from the very beginning. Blackbeard took what he wanted when he wanted and nothing more.

It was Izzy’s fucking fault for getting his heart involved.

So he did what he did best: he shoved it down.

He watched the crew from the upper deck, his hands gripping the railing tight enough to turn his knuckles white, and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“If you sorry sacks of shit don’t get the rigging fixed—”

This crew was capable enough that he didn’t need to bark orders at them, but it always made him feel better.

It made him feel in control.

And then a hand grabbed his ass, and he jolted upright and spun around to give his most menacing glare at Jack.

“Aw, we still not there yet where I can grab ya in front of the boys?” Jack grinned, easygoing and carefree and without any fucks to give about anything except his mouth and his dick. “Damn, ya really play hard to get, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Izzy hissed out through clenched teeth. “Not on deck.”

Jack started forward, his fingers wiggling in the way that begged to touch and feel. “Then why don’t we—”

“In case you failed to notice, captain,”—Izzy said the title like a curse—“the crew fucked up the replacement of one of the ropes.”

Jack stopped. His face fell, as though physically struck by Izzy’s voice, and he gave a tired sigh that fell into a low growl. “Fuck, Iz, I can’t keep being the bad guy here. Startin’ to feel rapey.”

“Excuse me?”

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and curled his upper lip in a small sneer. “The fuckin’ game of keep away ya play. Every time I think we’re makin’ progress, ya act like I’m some kind of disgustin’ inconvenience to ya.”

Izzy’s defenses faltered just a bit, just enough for him to take a steadying breath. “What is this?”

Jack blinked slowly and turned his head to scan their surroundings. “A ship.”

“No, you fooking—” Izzy stepped closer to put his face in Jack’s, to see as deeply as he could into the man’s eyes, trying to see all the way through to his thoughts. “What is this. What are we doing.”

“Ah, fuck.” Jack groaned and turned away to walk a few paces with loud stomps of his boots. “Are we really havin’ this conversation? Fucking, fuck, Iz, I don't—” He stopped, and with a heavy sigh, his back still to Izzy, his posture slumped in defeat. “Iz, you’re great, yeah? Great pirate, great with a sword, great on my cock. Can’t it just be that?”

Couldn’t it?

Izzy tightened his jaw and turned his head to look out at the horizon as though it might have answers.

He’d been content to be under Blackbeard’s boot and fist for so many years. That had always been enough, would have been his happily ever after if Stede Bonnet hadn’t come around.

“C’mon, baby, please…” Jack was in front of him again, his face open and sincere. “Don’t make this weird. Let’s just have a good time. You an’ me an’ whatever hot piece of ass ya spot at the next tavern to join us.”

There was a part of him that felt committed to being mad, now, that backing down would mean losing, and Izzy hated nothing more than losing.

He spat to the side and turned the other way to start toward the stairs down. “I’ll think about it,” he said over his shoulder. “But I’m promising nothing.”

Izzy tried toward his quarters as quickly as he could, so he could catch his breath, try to think without Jack looking at him and pleading, but then the man called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Make up your mind and stick to it, Iz.” Jack’s voice was low, not quite a threat, but more a command. “I like ya, but not enough to get dicked around all the time, got it?”

Izzy looked back at him, took in the seriousness of Jack’s expression and tone, their eyes locked and unwavering.

Think it through, Israel, he whispered in his own mind, the only place he was safe. Stop fucking your life up.

Slowly, Izzy turned. He walked with careful, measured steps without taking his eyes off Jack.

He puts up with your shit. He fucks you.

Each click of his boots against the steps made his own nerves tingle, drawing him nearer.

This is the best you’ve ever had.

Jack actually started to look uneasy when Izzy approached him, a twitch pulling his lips into a brief, nervous frown. “Iz—”

Izzy cut him off by grabbing Jack by the throat, then yanked the man down to crash them together in a hard, violent kiss. Teeth pulled at his lips, and a low growl vibrated along Jack’s tongue as it plunged into his mouth.

This is the best you’ll ever have.

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📚 view a list of all my current stories!

[leossmoonn]

Christmas Shenanigans [Peter Parker]

masterlist 

peter parker x fem!reader

type - fluff

note - in the spirit of christmas, i wrote tis cute lil imagine. enjoy!

summary - you spend christmas eve with Peter and do some fun activities :) 

warnings - lil suggestive 

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“Peter! I’m here!” You shouted while walking through his apartment. You saw May in the kitchen. 

“Hey, Y/n! Merry Christmas Eve!” May smiled and came over to you, and gave you a hug. You smiled at her and hugged her back. 

“Merry Christmas Eve! I have a little something for you,” you pulled away and reached for your backpack. 

“Oh, Y/n! You didn’t have to,” May smiled as you got out the wrapped gift. 

You shrugged, “You’ve been a second mother to me ever since Peter and I were friends, even more since we started dating. Plus, I’m spending the whole day with my family tomorrow, so this is a good time to give you this.”

May chuckled, “Well, I have something, too.”

“Ooh, yay! Gift exchange!” You giggled and clapped your hands. May shared your enthusiasm by walking with a pep in her step to you. 

She handed you a medium-size box that had Santa wrapping paper on it. You handed May a little box, too, with Christmas tree wrapping paper.

You two opened it simultaneously. You gasped as you saw a a few face masks and a clay mask jar.

“Thank you so much, May! I love this!” You smiled. “Of course! I overheard you complain to Peter about not having a lot self-care products, so I got you some. Every girl needs at least a few of these 24/7.”

“Ah, I agree! Okay, open yours!” You pointed to the box who had been unwrapped, but not opened. 

May danced in place a little, gently opening the gift. She gasped and put her hand on her chest. Inside was a charm bracelet that had a seashell, May’s zodiac sign symbol, and a little circle charm that said ‘family’ with a heart. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, slightly anxious. 

“Oh, honey, I love it. Thank you!” May said, tears in her eyes. You chuckled as she gave you another hug. 

“You know, I haven’t had a charm bracelet since Peter’s parents died. Mary gave me a matching charm bracelet when we got really close, before her and Richard got married. After she passed, I had packed it away somewhere in all of  their things. Thank you so much, Y/n,” May smiled. 

“You’re welcome. Peter actually mentioned you liked charm bracelets when I asked him what you wanted for Christmas,” you explained. 

“Ah, gotta love that kid,” May smiled. 

“Agreed,” you smiled. “Speaking of him, where is he?”

“Hm, I think he and Ned went out somewhere. He should be back. He knows you’re here, right?” May asked. 

“Yeah, I texted him like, 15 minutes ago,” you pulled out your phone and frowned. 

On cue, the door opened and there appeared your boyfriend. He was out of breath, probably from running up the stairs to his apartment. He had a few gift bags in his hand, too. 

“Well, there is the man of the hour! Where have you been, Pete?” May asked. 

“Late Christmas shopping. I, uh, kinda forgot,” Peter laughed awkwardly, setting his backpack and the gifts down. 

“I thought you got kidnapped or something,” you teased. 

Peter turned to you and a big smile immediately came onto his face. He went over to you and engulfed you in a big hug. You relaxed instantly, melting into his embrace and putting your head in his shoulder. 

“I’m Spider-Man, babe, I can’t be kidnapped,” he whispered in your ear. 

You giggled quietly, pulling away and pecking his lips. Peter went to his gifts, handing a bag to May. 

“Aw, Peter, you shouldn’t have!” May smiled and grabbed it. 

“You would’ve yelled at me if I didn’t,” Peter snorted. May rolled his eyes, but smiled at she got her gift out. 

She held up a new spatula set. 

“Peter! This is just what I, well we, needed! Thank you! Now, I don’t have to buy anything,” May smiled. She hugged Peter and ruffled his hair. 

“You’re welcome, May. I have another gift for you, but you gotta open it tomorrow, when it's actually Christmas. And for you, I have loads of gifts!” Peter smiled at you.

You giggled, “Thank you, Petey.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Well, you two can run along. Keep the door open a little, I’ll be cooking dinner. Chilli okay for you, Y/n?” May asked.

“More than okay! Thank you!” You smiled. 

Peter took your hand, thanking May, and leading you to his room. 

Peter closed the door a little more than halfway, coming over to you and pressing a slightly needy, but sweet kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. His hands snaked around your waist, walking backwards so you two fell on his bed. 

You pulled away and giggled, panting slightly. “Where did that come from?”

“I just missed you,” Peter said, leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. He pulled away, getting your Christmas presents and putting them on the bed. There were two gift bags. You took off your backpack, taking out the couple of presents you got him. 

“Okay, um, here is one of yours,” you said, hanging him a small bag. 

“Yay!” Peter squealed like a little boy. You chuckled, putting your hand on his knee, anxiously waiting for him to open your present. 

Peter took out the tissue paper, gasping in excitement. He pulled out a medium-sized candle that you made. You had put your perfume scent and shampoo scent that Peter always said he loved.

“Y/n! OMG! I’m gonna light this up all. the. time,” Peter said.

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled. “Like it? I love it! Okay, now open yours,” Peter said and shoved a big box in your face. You grabbed it, surprised by it’s weight.

You untied the ribbon and lifted the top fo the box. You gasped as you saw what the present was. It was a picture collage of you and Peter during Christmas times through the years. It spanned over the coarse of 11 years. You looked over the pictures, tears springing in your eyes as you saw pictures of you two from when you were 5 to literally the other day. You smiled as you saw the picture from last year, when you two finally started to date. In that picture, you two were kissing. That picture and the one from the other day were the only ones that had you kissing in them. You loved to see the development in your guys’s relationship over the years. 

“Do you like it?” Peter asked. 

“I love it, Pete. Thank you so much,” you sniffled. Peter put his hand up to your face, wiping a few tears that had fallen from your eyes. 

“Don’t cry, Pretty Girl,” Peter said. You smiled softly and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I’m just really happy,” you said once you pulled away. Peter smiled, “Me, too, Okay, here’s a more personal gift that I got you.”

He gave you a little box that was wrapped. You unwrapped it, seeing that it was a white box. You took the top off, smiling even more when you saw the present. It was a silver necklace that had Peter’s name on it. 

“This is so cute! I see you’ve been paying attention to all the tik tok’s I’ve sent you,” you giggled. You leaned over again to kiss him. 

“Oh, I have. I also got a match one!” Peter said, taking out a silver bracelet. It had your name on it. 

“Ah! I love you,” you smiled at him. You put your necklace on, getting your phone out and seeing how it looked like on camera. 

“I love you, too. Sooooo, you said I have another gift for me?” Peter said. 

You giggled. “Yes I do, Petey.” You reached for your gift and handed it to him. Peter ripped it open, smiling excitedly as he saw you got him a Spider-Man watch. 

“This is awesome! I can’t believe I never even got one for myself,” Peter snorted. “Thank you, babe.”

“You’re welcome. I know how much you loooove Spider-Man,” you chuckled.

“Yes, indeed, I do,” Peter laughed. You helped Peter set the watch to the right time, putting it on for him. 

“This is so cool!” Peter squealed. 

“I’m glad you think so. I would’ve gotten you a Star Wars one, but I decided to get that one for Ned, and this one for you,” you shrugged. 

“Oh, he’ll love that,” Peter smiled. “I know. I'm an amazing gift giver,” you smirked. 

“That you are,” Peter said. He took you in his arms, laying down on the bed with you. You giggled, getting on top of him and straddling his waist.

“Trying to get lucky tonight, Parker?” You smirked. 

“Maybe,” Peter smiled. “Extra Christmas present?”

“Hm,” you hummed. You ran your fingers down his shirt, feeling his abs through the clothing. You leaned down, giving Peter a good view of your cleavage, as you were wearing a fairly low-cut shirt).

“Please,” Peter whined. You smiled and put your lips on his, kissing him slow and passionately. Peter put his hands on your waist, trailing down to your thigh. Before you two could go any further, you heard the laughter of children from outside. 

You pulled away, earning a grunt of annoyance from Peter. 

“OMG, Peter!” You exclaimed. 

“What?” Peter asked, setting his hand on your thigh. “You should dress up as Spider-Man and give kids candy canes and sing to them!” You exclaimed.

Peter made a face. “What? Why?”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him. “Because, you are the “Friendly-Neighbourhood-Spider-Man”! Please? I’ll buy the chocolate and candy canes or whatever. Just go around the neighbourhood.”

“I don’t know, Y/n,” Peter said. “Oh, c’mon! You usually would be up for this! Please, it's for the kids. Plus, I’ll give you a treat,” you said, pouting. 

Peter smiled at you and sighed. “Fine. I’ll go and get my suit under my clothes. We can say goodbye to May and whenever we get the stuff, I’ll change into my suit.”

“Yay!” You exclaimed and clapped. You got off of his so he could go and get his suit on. He changed quickly, putting his jeans and sweatshirt on over. He grabbed his backpack, going out of his room with you. 

“Hey, May, Peter and I are gonna go to the store and get some candy,” you said. 

“Alright! Stay safe please. Call me if you need anything!” May said from her room. 

“Will do! Bye!” You exclaimed. “Bye, May!” Peter said. 

You two went out of the apartment, running down the stairs and going outside. You two went to the gas station, getting candy canes and chocolate. Once you got outside, Peter took his clothes off, putting his Spider-Man mask on. 

“Are you cold in that?” You asked him as he put his regular clothes in his backpack.  “Nah, the suit has a heater,” Peter said. “Wow, lucky. I'm freezing,” you chuckled, bouncing up and down to make some heat. 

“Aw, baby, you should’ve told me. Here, stay next to me, I’ll keep you warm,” he said, putting his arm around you. 

You put your hat over your ears and smiled up at him. “Thank you. Now, ready to get your Christmas on?”

“Yes!” Peter smiled and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

You giggled and you walked around the neighbourhood, knocking on people’s doors. 

“Hello, may I help you?” The first door you knocked on opened quickly. 

“Hi! I’m Spider-Man and this is my assistant!” Peter said. 

“Yes,” you chuckled. 

“We’re just going around the neighbourhood to wish you Merry Christmas and give you some gifts,” Peter said and held out a few chocolate packs and candy canes. 

The woman at the door smiled and took the treats. “Thank you! Do you mind if I get my son? He is a big fan of yours.”

“No, not at all!” You smiled. 

The woman went into the house, son returning with a little boy. The little boy gasped. “Spider-Man!”

“Hey, buddy!” Peter crouched down. “Have you been good this year.” The little boy nodded with a wide smile. 

“Good. I gave your mom a few treats for you and your family. I wish you all a Merry Christmas!”

“Thank you so much. Do you mind if we take a picture?” The little boy’s mom asked. 

“Not at all,” Peter said. You moved out of the way, the little boy standing next to Peter. The mom took the picture, gesturing for the little boy to come back inside. 

“Thank you so much, again. This definitely made his Christmas.”

“It’s not problem, ma’am. Have a good night!” Peter said and waved. 

“You, too!” The woman smiled. The little boy waved at you two before the woman closed the door. 

You went by Peter’s side again, “See? Wasn’t that fun?”

“Yes, it was,” Peter said, putting his hand around you. 

You smiled and put your head on his shoulder, going to the next house. You and Peter did this for an hour and a half, going through all the houses and apartments, taking pictures with the kids. You two reached the last house finally, saying goodbye and wishing them a Merry Christmas. 

Peter put his clothes back on and you two went back into his apartment. You noticed May sleeping on the couch, and chilli on the stove. You two took off your coats and shoes, going over to the chilli. 

“Thank you for doing this with me,” you said, leaning on him as you got yourself chilli. 

“Of course, baby. It was really fun,” Peter smiled. He kissed your head, nuzzling his cheek onto the top of your head. 

“Good, I’m glad,” you said. You two walked into Peter’s room. You two set the bowls onto his desk. Peter changed out of his Spider-Man suit, putting back on his underwear. But before he could put on the rest of his clothes, you took his hand and pushed him on the bed. 

Peter smiled wide and you smirked, climbing on top of his lap. 

“Merry Christmas, Peter Parker,” you whispered, capturing his lips into a kiss. 

————

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[clouditae]

Let’s Escape Reality

Jungkook x reader | pg15 | oneshot | barista au | christmas party | fluff | angst | mentions of death

Word: 5.6k

Christmas has become a holiday you never look forward to. Divorced parents, multiple parties to attend, but he’s always there to remind you that it never hurts to be a kid again

[Tuesday, December 24th, 10:15pm] Mom: Hey sweetie! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning! Your father always wakes up closer to the afternoon so he can wait while we have you all to ourselves! 

[Tuesday, December 24th, 11:48pm] Dad: Hi baby, hope you had a great time with us today and we can’t wait to see you tomorrow whenever your mother let’s you go!

It’s currently five in the morning, your eyes barely open and thoughts not wanting to deal with your parents right now. It’s always the same with those two; one parent complains about the other. “Your mother is always so naggy” or “Your father never listens”. Always putting you in the middle whenever you talk to them or whenever you’re with them. They need someone to listen to them as they bash the other, and that happens to be you or your siblings. The daughter they created. All you want is for this day to end already, and it just started.

Forget the Christmas morning and lunch with your parents, forget wrapping the gifts you got for your family, friends and the person you picked to be secret Santa for. Forget the Christmas party you have later on today. Screw all of it. 

Rather than going to see the other messages you got from your siblings, you open a different message.

[5:26am] Kook: Gooood morning beautiful! Can’t wait to see you at the party tonight <3

You can’t help but smile, feeling more calm than you did going to bed last night. You take in a deep breath, finally getting out of bed to take a shower and begin your morning on Christmas day. Plugging your phone into its charger on the nightstand next to your bed, you head into your bathroom where you start your shower. You take off your clothes, bringing your hand under the running water to feel the temperature. When it’s to your liking, you step in, letting the warm water run down your body. Thoughts run through your head as you close your eyes, taking in deep breaths to not have a breakdown. 

Ever since your parents divorced, life has been difficult. It’s been four years since their divorce, but it always feels like yesterday when they announced it… separately. It was hard on not only your parents, but you and your siblings as well. Whose party do you go to? What is supposed to be happening New Years? Birthdays? Simple lunches that your parents fought over because one somehow figured out the other made plans with you. You felt like a toy they were fighting over; never considering how you’re feeling or how your brother and sister are feeling. 

You suppress the urge to cry as you quickly take your shower. Once finished, you get out and put on pajama pants and a shirt, putting your hair up in a towel to dry before making your way towards your room to begin wrapping presents. You begin with the long distance lamp you got for you and your best friend. She always seemed upset at the thought of moving to New York for work and leaving everyone here, so you got her that best friend touch lamp that changes colors for both lamps when you touch it. 

”She’ll cry when she gets it,” Jungkook told you last year when you almost bought it but didn’t. Your best friend was supposed to move to New York last year, but things happened and she did not leave. 

“I don’t think she’ll cry,” you tell him, staring at the picture of the lamp on your phone. 

“How much do you want to bet?” he challenges.

You chuckle at the memory. Guess you’ll see if today you lost that bet. You write your friend's name on the present, placing it to the side before moving to your mom's present. You begin to wrap the gift, thoughts going back to Jungkook. You wonder what he’d say when you’re at the store staring at an alarm clock you were considering getting for your mom at first. He’d probably lecture you. You think further back to when you first met Jungkook three years ago.

You sigh, entering the café with your friends. How much longer are they going to argue about team Clarissa or team Dante? In the end they’re both going to cry over the season finale. 

“I’m telling you, Mina, Sophie is totally going to end up with Dante! He’s sweet and only wants to make them happy!” your friend Rory argues, walking up to the long line. 

Mina only laughs challengingly, “Yeah right. Clarissa is the one for them. She’s been there since the beginning and she confessed her feelings for Sophie compared to Dante who acted cold and was a dick to her!” 

“That’s because he has trouble letting himself feel something for someone again! It’s your typical troubled bad boy!” Rory protests, shaking his head before crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Will you two keep it down? You need to remember we’re in public and no one wants to hear you gushing over two fictional characters,” Ben sighs, rubbing his temples. He’s clearly done hearing this conversation just as much as you are. They’ve been arguing since all of you got into the car to get coffee. 

Mina sighs, “Fine. We’ll stop for now, but the second we get into that car, you’re gonna regret ever being on Dante’s team.” She pokes at Rory’s chest. 

“You’re on,” he replies in a quieter tone, taking a step forward as the next customer goes up to the cashier and places their order. “Changing the subject,” Rory begins, now looking at Ben, “I know you’re a coffee fanatic, but why bust a mission so far out of our way to get coffee when there are a million stores closer?”

Ben smiles, eyes lighting up in realization. “Remember how I’ve been telling you for weeks that I want you guys to meet my friend Jungkook?”

“Yeah, but you never bring him anywhere when we actually get together. I still think you’re making him up,” Mina theorizes, looking up to meet Ben’s eyes. 

“Ha-ha,” he mocks. “But no, Jungkook is real and he works here. I thought that the best way to meet a busy kid is to find them at work. Plus he makes a pretty damn good cappuccino.” Ben shrugs, gesturing with his head for the three of you to move forward. 

“Does he work eight jobs or something?” you can’t help but ask. Ben has been talking about you three meeting this Jungkook non stop for almost two months, but never once has Ben actually brought him over. Ben’s excuse as to why Jungkook has never been brought over is because Jungkook is busy. 

“No. He has six older brothers, so he’s always with them. They help him with everything he could need, and how to be a better barista is one of them.” Ben can only shake his head as he chuckles.

“Damn. Their parents got busy,” Rory whistles. 

“They’re not blood related; they just grew up together.” 

“Next in line,” a voice calls. You look to the front of the line, realizing that you’re next. The four of you quickly walk up to the woman behind the counter. She smiles her customer service smile and asks, “What can I get you today?” You all give your orders to the brunette behind the counter, Rory and Mina buying the most expensive drink they can get. She repeats the order back. “Is that correct?” she asks, earning a nod from Ben who is paying. “Okay. Your order should be ready soon!” 

You follow the group to the side closer to the pick-up counter where Ben’s name will be called. “So where is your best friend?” Mina asks, eyes scanning the staff behind the counter. 

Ben looks behind the counter where Mina’s gaze remains. “Hmm. He’s probably in the back or on break,” he answers, turning back to look at her. “He’s real.” 

Rory and Mina can only chuckle at the determination Ben is giving. “Okay, okay.” 

“So are we going to start doing secret Santa? I’m telling you, it’s a great idea,” you voice, pushing your idea on the crew once again. 

You’ve been dedicated to having secret Santa since last Christmas. It’s something you have always wanted to do, but didn’t have enough friends to do it with. Even now you don’t have enough friends to do it without it being easy as to who was picked by which person, but if you find enough people willing, it’ll be a great idea to try out. When they say nothing you add, “C’mon! You can even invite your friends to join and hang out with us at the party.” 

“Five people is still not enough, Y/N,” Ben says, shaking his head while giving you a sympathetic look. 

You groan, “That’s why you invite some of your friends over so that we can all get to know one another and then ask who wants to join the present exchange.” You then cross your arms over your chest. “You guys always say you want to do something with friends only, and here I am presenting to you with a pretty good idea.” 

They stand in silence, looking lost in their thoughts at your words. Finally, Ben is the first to sigh and say, “Fine. I’ll ask him and find some other friends.” He points to you. “But you’re planning the party for all of us to meet and the party for the secret Santa.” 

It’s Mina’s turn to exhale. “I’ll ask around.” 

You turn to Rory who only nods. Breaking out into a huge smile, you say in a singsong tone, “I’ll have everything ready. I promise.” 

“Order for Ben,” a disembodied voice calls. 

You all turn to the pick-up counter to see four cups in a drink carrier. Following Ben, you watch him drag the carrier closer to him. You don’t see him look up and smile as he says, “Hey.” You tear your eyes away from the cups where yours lay in wait for you to devour and look up to see Ben’s attention on the person behind the counter. He turns to the three of you. “Guys, this is Jungkook. Jungkook this is Rory, Mina and Y/N.” 

Jungkook is for sure real, but he doesn’t even look real. He’s tall, almost as tall as Ben, but not quite there. His cherry red hair is brought back into a bun, some of it draping around his sculpted jawline. His round, coffee brown eyes glances at your friends before landing on you, a smile gracing his lips. “Hello,” he says in a silvery, husky tone. 

You feel how Mina sounds when she replies, small and taut. Ben is friends with this God like figure? It’s not that Ben isn’t good looking—it's more that you’d have to be either very beautiful or funny as hell to be friends with someone like Jungkook. You’re putting him on a pedestal when his personality could be horrible.  

“So, my friends—mainly this one,” he begins, nudging your arm with his shoulder, “wants to do a secret Santa and since we need more people, Y/N is going to throw a party beforehand so we can all get to know each other. You interested?”

Jungkook can only smile for a moment, expression clearly taken aback from the sudden invitation to a party where he’ll only know one person. He looks to you, his smile a bit more genuine and answers, “I don’t mind going. Just tell me when.”

You smile at the memory as you turn off the ignition to your car and get out. You stand in front of your mom’s house, letting out a small sigh before opening the trunk and pulling out the presents you got for your mom and one for your siblings. You stack the presents on top of one another, realizing that you’ll have to make trips. However, to your luck and the sense of a sibling in trouble, your brother appears beside you. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite sister,” he says, giving you a side hug before grabbing the stacked presents from you. 

You chuckle, “If Cal heard you say that, she’d throw a fit.” Grabbing the other gifts and items you bought, you close the trunk and follow him up to your mom’s two story house. You make your way up the walkway towards the decorated front door. Your mom goes above and beyond when it comes to decorations. The outdoor has lights lining the roof, two inflatable snowmen were on the snow-covered lawn, and as you get closer to the steel entry door, it’s decorated with a garland running along the window and door; a wreath hanging above the entrance. 

The door flings open to reveal your mom. She smiles widely at you, crows feet forming at the eyes. “Hi, honey,” she says in her nasal voice, opening her arms out for you to walk in to. You smile, juggling the items in your arms as you wrap them around her waist, hugging her tightly. “It’s good to see you.” 

“Hi, Mom.” You release her, but she doesn’t seem ready to let go of you just yet. It’s understandable since the last time you saw her was around a month ago, but your arms are getting tired from holding all the heavy objects. “Okay—Mom, my arms hurt.” 

She chuckles, removing herself and her grip around you. “Sorry.” She grabs the items from your left hand. “Why don’t we put these under the tree and have breakfast?”

You follow her out of the entryway and into the living room where the Christmas tree stands. It stands in the far left corner between the stand and the couch. It’s tall and decorative with old ornaments you made when you were a kid. The television is playing a Christmas movie you forgot the name to. It’s old, but the scenes play in your mind like a record. Your sister sits on the couch facing across the television. She looks up to you as you follow your mom across the room and place the presents under the tree. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite sister,” she calls, getting up from the couch, making her way around the coffee table in the middle of the room and wraps you in a just as tight hug as your mother’s. 

“I’m your only sister,” you explain, patting her back before she let’s go. 

“But that’s what Nathan said right?” she inquiries, laughing when you don’t deny fast enough. “That’s what he told me when I came.” 

“You’re both my favorite sister,” he defends, shrugging his shoulders as he walks to the island that somewhat separates the kitchen and living room. He grabs a piece of bacon from the plate placed in what looks like a field of plates. 

“We’re your only sisters and can you not eat until we’re all at the table,” Cal groans, shaking her head as she goes to the island to grab the plates and place them at the table in the dining room to the left of the kitchen. 

Nathan says something you can't understand due to his chewing, but he nevertheless grabs the plates and follows Cal’s lead. You do the same, grabbing a plate full of pancakes and another plate full of eggs, placing them at the center of the table. Once everything is set, you take a seat next to Cal, your mom and Nathan sitting across from you. You chat with one another as you fill your plates with a little bit of everything. You listen to their stories as coffee, milk and orange juice is poured into cups. 

Your mom took advantage of the three of you being in the same room as her as she tells you about that one day at work where one of her students laughed so hard at their own prank that they farted and that resulted in urinating themselves a bit. “I don’t understand why I chose to be a teacher, but here we are,” she sighs, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“You should have been a nurse,” Cal chimes, shoving a piece of toast in her mouth. You glance between your mom and Cal, waiting for the tension to rise. With Cal being exactly like your mom; hard headed and with the same attitude, they always butt heads and sometimes ruin whatever get together you have. 

“Elena is pregnant,” Nathan suddenly blurts. You stare at him wide eyed. Usually when your mom and Cal get into arguments, Nathan will come up with some stupid comment to ease the tension, but this one was a lot bigger than his usual lies. 

“What?” you mom whispers.

“Yeah, Nathan. At least come up with a believable lie,” Cal chuckles. 

“Uh,” he begins, adjusting himself in his seat, “today’s not a lie. Elena is pregnant—the doctor told us a few days ago.” He brings his hands up and shakes them lightly, somewhat looking like he’s doing jazz hands. “It’s a Christmas miracle. Merry Christmas,” he says in a tremulous tone. 

You, Cal and Nathan wait in anxious silence for your mom to say something. She’s silent for a moment before smiling, eyes getting glossy and tears streaming down her cheeks as she reaches forward and hugs Nathan in a tight grip. “I’m going to be a grandma,” she cries. 

Cal nudges you with her shoulder. “We’re gonna be aunts,” she tells you, eyes wide and clearly in shock. 

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Jungkook yells, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you’re trying to fold your laundry. “I can’t believe it.”

You giggle, “I know, I know. You’ve been screaming about it since Seokjin first told us.” Jungkook introduced you to his brothers six months after meeting him. Six months after that you were asked to be his girlfriend and now in nine months time, you’ll be a not legit aunt. 

“I always thought Taehyung would be the first to have kids since he’s such a kid person, but since Seokjin is the one with a wife, it makes more sense.” He smiles at you as he removes his grip from around your waist and takes a seat on your bed where your folded clothes lie. “I’m going to spoil that baby and ruin Seokjin’s life with how spoiled that baby is.” 

“Well you’re about to ruin my neatly folded clothes with your determination to spoil a baby that hasn’t been born yet,” you laugh, grabbing his arm and pulling up off your bed.

You’re not sure why that memory came to you all of a sudden. Maybe it’s because you’re going to be an aunt in nine months. Maybe it’s because you’re going to spoil that baby like Jungkook always talked about and did when Haru was born. Maybe his dedication rubbed off on you. 

“We should probably head out,” Nathan’s voice rings, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Dad’s lunch is starting soon.” You follow in suit, getting up from your spot on the couch in the living room. You grab the remaining wrapping paper that was torn apart off the floor, tossing it in the trash where the rest lay. Grabbing the presents everyone got you, you place them carefully in a bag, feeling the weight of it drag your arm down. "Bye, Mom. Thanks for the presents and breakfast." Nathan gives your mom a tight hug. 

You smile at your mom as she releases your brother and opens her arms for you to walk into. “Come by more often, yeah? You only have one mother you know,” she lectures, rubbing your back affectionately. 

You chuckle. “Yes, yes. I’ll come by and visit more often.” Saying goodbye to your mom, you get into your car and follow your siblings to your dad’s house on the other side of town. All five of you used to live in the middle of the city; a nice cozy home where you shared so many memories. Your parents divorced and your father moved up north while your mother moved south. Both completely away from one another where they never have to see each other for any reason other than something important happening to you or Cal or Nathan. 

Twenty minutes later, you pull up to the driveway of your dad’s house. Just like your mom’s, your father’s house is decorated with lights, and other types of decorations on the outside. You can only imagine what it looks like on the inside with your dad’s new girlfriend always being extra when it comes to Christmas. More than your mom. Grabbing the rest of your siblings presents and your dad’s gift from the trunk, you follow Cal and Nathan to the front door. Cal knocks on the door and a few seconds later the door opens revealing your dad with red frosting all over his lips. 

“Hey,” he begins, voice booming with excitement, “I’m glad you guys made it just in time! We’re putting frosting on the cookies.” Your dad moves to open the door more for you three to enter. 

“Put frosting on the cookies or eat the frosting?” Nathan asks, placing a finger on his chin where a small dab of frosting stuck and wiped it on his apron. 

Your father laughs, “You know me, I can’t help myself when it comes to frosting.” 

The day goes on as you spend a few hours at your dad’s place. You talk about what you’ve done since you last saw one another, Nathan being a future father, and how long the lines were for the recent Christmas movie that came out in theaters. You opened the presents and ate the cookies they made—they were actually good. Everything was peaceful, and for the first time, you spent Christmas without one of your parents saying something bad about the other. 

That is until your dad made a joke about your mom and you decided it was time to leave. You say your goodbyes once again, and left the house. You’ll wait for your father’s apology text; you’ll tell him to stop acting like a child and grow up about the divorce, and that’ll be the end of that. Your mom may hear about it, and you’ll have to tell her the same thing. 

It’s your endless circle of bull. 

You show up to Rory and Mina’s place earlier than usual. When you knock on the door, a surprised Mina opens it, but it immediately disappears when you shake your head at her. You enter the small, comforting house as Rory walks up to you and hands you a glass of eggnog. You drank it like you’re dehydrated. You just want today to be over already. 

“We were just about to decorate the tree if you want to help,” Mina says, holding up some ornaments. 

“You’re barely doing it on the last day?” you question, placing the glass on the coffee table before following her to the tree that was also in the corner of the living room. 

“This is our friend tree,” Mina starts, tone defensive, “we already have our actual tree up in the den.” 

“An actual tree?” You grab an ornament from her hand and hang it on the “friend” tree. 

“We have one for the family, and we have one for our friends. All ornaments for this tree has pictures and stupid things from you guys,” Rory explains, lifting an ornament picture of Ben. Taking a closer look you see that it’s a picture of him in the middle of taking a bite out of his burger. HIs mouth opened and his eyes looked wild and hungry as he ate. You can’t help but laugh. “Remember his face when we first put it up on the tree? He was pissed.” Rory laughs along with you. 

You remember that memory. Ben lectured you guys for a while. As you continue to decorate the tree, you can’t help but remember your first time putting up a tree together with just Jungkook. It was your first Christmas as a couple and he wanted to help you decorate your tree at your apartment. 

“I say we don’t put lights on your tree,” he grunts, struggling to untangle the Christmas lights. 

You grin as you watch him before pulling out another box of decorations. “You almost got it,” you encourage, clearly finding this amusing. 

“If you keep smiling like that I’ll just leave you here to do this yourself,” Jungkook warns, glancing at you with a small hint of playfulness. 

“Okay. Sorry, sorry.” You go over and sit across from him on the floor. Grabbing the other set of lights, you untangle the knot with him. “Thanks for helping me by the way.” You glance at him, watching a small smile grow at his lips. 

“Christmas is my favorite holiday. The decorations, the present wrapping, opening the presents, and a bunch more,” he explains, a look of victory on his face when the lights untangle. “Why aren’t you as excited as I am?” 

You give Jungkook an awkward smile. You never told him about your parent’s divorce, but you suppose now would be a good time as ever. “Uh…” you trail off, handing your still tangled lights to him. “My parents divorced, and now they’ve ruined all of this by talking bad about one another and always trying to keep you from doing something with the other parent. They just ruined the whole… family thing Christmas is about.” 

Jungkook is suddenly to his feet, the lights untangled once again. He looks down at you with determination. Holding his hand out for you, he announces, “Well today I’m going to make you love the whole process of Christmas all over again.” 

“What?” you chuckle nervously, slowly reaching for his hand. 

He grabs it, startling you as he pulls you to your feet. You don’t have great balance with the force he causes when pulling you as you fall into him. He wraps his arms around you as you look to meet his eyes. He smiles his toothy smile, placing a small kiss on your nose. “Let’s decorate the hell out of that tree.” 

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks. You should be used to this by now, but every time he does something cute, you’d only act like it was the first time he’s ever done it. “Okay,” you mumble, feeling him release you from his grasp, but you’re only disappointed it ended so soon. 

Walking to the tree, you watch Jungkook as he gets on the step stool and starts at the top of the tree to wrap the lights around. You stand on the other side, grabbing the lights to bring it around the tree and back into his hands. Finishing the first lights, Jungkook gets down and grabs the second set of lights, but not before pulling his phone out of his pocket and browsing through it before you hear a familiar song play through the Bluetooth speaker you have sitting next to your television. You smile as he looks at you. Suddenly he starts dancing to the Christmas song playing. Swaying side-to-side, snapping his fingers, he looks like he’s never danced before. You can't hold back your laughter as you watch him dance his way back to the stool to finish wrapping the tree in lights. You bob your head to the song as you help him with the lights, then the garland and finally the ornaments and star. 

Everything is ready. Ready for presents to go under and pictures to be taken. You’re going to be one of those people who takes a picture of their tree, but Jungkook thinks of something better and takes your hand in his, bringing you closer to him. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other holding your hand to your chest as he sways side-to-side with you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you rest your head on his shoulder as well. The two of you danced in silence for a while, even though some songs were upbeat. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers after a few more seconds of silence. 

You don’t hesitate, and maybe that’s what shocks you the most as you answer, “I love you, too.”

Everyone is gathered in the living room, talking and laughing about everything. It’s getting hard to have everyone hang out, but you’re grateful to see familiar faces smiling. Some are running late or won’t be showing up at all, and it hurts you just a bit to know that you’re all growing and maturing as time goes on. You won’t be seeing these people as often as you used to or wish to. Eventually they’ll just disappear out of your life and move on with their own. Enjoying everything that comes their way while you struggle to stay afloat with everything happening in your life. 

You get up from your seat, telling the few who notice you try and leave that you only need air. That you’ll be back in just a sec. Once outside in the spacious backyard, you take in several deep breaths. There are plenty of times where you wish you had their lives—any of their lives. They get over their parents divorce, or their family is still one. They don’t have to mature so early in life, and they enjoy the little things. They love their job. They’re happy where they’re at, but always willing to strive for more. 

Your life only crumbles. 

Closing your eyes, you imagine Jungkook walking out the back door to comfort you. He’s always concerned and late at every important event. He lights up your world when you struggle to swim above the roaring waters. 

Opening your eyes, Jungkook stands in front of you, your favorite smile plastered on his face. “I see you’ve missed me,” he says, a hint of teasing in his tone. You can only roll your eyes at him. “Do you want to build a snowman?” he suddenly questions. “It seems like you forgot the meaning of Christmas.” 

You scoff, “Are you Jack Frost or Santa or something?” 

Jungkook shrugs. “I may be.” He walks past you and more to the middle of the lawn, getting on his knees. “So are we doing this or what?”

You sigh, clearly giving in to him like you always do as you walk up to him and get to your knees. You gather as much snow to the middle, creating a bigger pile and forming it into a ball. When the two of you decide it’s just big enough, you start to form a smaller ball for the middle section. 

“Tough day?” he asks, eyes focused on forming the ball. 

“More like year,” you confess. 

“Look,” he begins, slowly picking up the ball and placing it on the bigger one, only for it to somewhat break apart, “fuck—life has been rough for you. For the years I’ve known you, you are always the one to take everything in. No matter how hard and tiring it is, you have to just make time for yourself only. Don’t let your parents get to you; tell them off once in a while. They’re adults, too, and they have to know that putting the kid in the middle of their ridiculous fight is getting them nowhere. Also you need to have fun, too. You’re in your twenties and acting like you’re forty-something is not the answer. I don’t like telling people I’m dating a grandma.” 

You stare at him in shock. “Grandmother? That’s—how—” You have no idea what to say to that. So, instead of saying anything, you grab a handful of snow and shove it in his face. “Shall I tell people I’m with a kid then? I don’t think they’ll like that.”

With his eyes closed, he is frozen from the impact. He wipes at his eyes, clearly in shock as he stares at you. “I see this is how we’re starting our night.” You don’t have time to react as a handful of snow was shoved in your face. 

It’s an all out war with him as the two of you go to opposite ends of the yard and hide behind trees as you throw snowballs at one another. Clearly you’re both bad seeing as for the following ten minutes, you both hit each other once during the entire fight. Jungkook catches you off guard when he suddenly lies on the floor, stretching his arms and legs out and begins to sweep them in a semicircle. You drop the snowball and walk over and lie next to him, creating your own snow angel. 

From the corner of your eye, you see him get up and look down at his masterpiece. He looks pleased before looking over to you. He gives you a sad smile. “I know life is hard, and I know me not being here is harder, but know that even though I’m not here, I’ll always be with you. I love you so much, Y/N, and you’re going to do amazing things in life. But you need to be a kid once in a while. How else am I to appear?” He chuckles. “Bring me an Christmas tree ornament yeah?” 

You wipe at your tears. “Yeah.”

That’s how you spend your Christmas with Jungkook at the secret Santa party, and that’s what he’d say if he was still here. But he’s not here.  

“Y/N?” You open your eyes to see Rory, Mina and Ben standing around you. “Everyone left and the cemetery should still be open. Ready to see Jungkook?” Ben asks, holding his hand out to you. 

You let out a shaky breath and reply, “Yeah.”

[ltleflrt]

*busts into the room with an air horn in one hand and a seltzer bottle in the other*

LISTEN UP CLOWNS!  I AM HERE WITH THE 15x19 POSITIVITY.

But bucklemming-- *AIRHORN* But the stupid things-- *SPRAYS YOU WITH SELTZER* No Caaaas-- *DOUBLE BARRELS YOU*

LOOK.  BUCKLEMMING ARE BAD WRITERS, THEIR EPISODES ARE ALWAYS POORLY PACED AND FULL OF SHITTY THINGS TO FILL UP YOUR BUCKLEMMING’S BULLSHIT BINGO CARD, AND THIS WAS NO EXCEPTION.  BUT LET’S TALK ABOUT GOOD THINGS AND HYPE OURSELVES UP FOR NEXT WEEK, AWRIGHT? AWRIGHT!

I enjoyed 15x19!  It was delightfully stupid, gave me exactly what I expected from Cas’ unfinished storyline, and managed to surprise me, made me bawl, and fuck y’all the montage was fun!

I like that my sad boy Dean pulled himself up from his bootstraps and went to meet Sam and Jack in the beginning.  Because he always gets back up, even when he’s at his lowest lows.  We know he ignored Sam’s calls while he had a good cry at the end of 18, but he got back to the business of Winchester World Saving once he got enough of it out of his system to function.

It felt good to see Sam have a meltdown.  I looooove Cool And Logical!Sam who is almost always the voice of reason, but Dean ain’t the King of Repression, Sam is.  The boy shoves so much down, his fears about being tainted, his Hell/Lucifer trauma, (frustration with watching Dean and Cas dancing around each other for 11 fucking years), his grief over his tragic love life... Let him yell!  Let him shout and scream and put down the burden of hope for a few minutes!  Yes, good.  Very good, Sam.  Get it off your chest!

Dean named the dog “Miracle”.  Stahp! So soft! *clutches chest*

DEAN SPRINTING FOR THE DOOR!  HE TOOK THOSE STAIRS TWO AT A FUCKING TIME TO GET TO HIS ANGEL!

C’mon now... who didn’t enjoy seeing Lucifer get murdered one last time?  *chef’s kiss*

JAKE ABEL YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN!!  I wish I’d glomped onto this guy years ago!  What a gem!  What a good bean!!  Too bad about Michael’s failed redemption arc, but NO MORE ARCHANGELS TO FUCK AROUND WITH FATE YEAH BUDDY!!

Upon first watch, I was rolling my eyes at Jack’s power sucking ability.  Where did that come from?  It was out of nothing!  I was going to handwave it as bucklemming fuckery.  BUT THEN!  I woke up from a dead sleep at 4:44am and thought SERAFINA.  SHE SAID HE WOULD BE LIKE A SUPERNOVA AND THEN ADAM SAID HE’D BE A BLACK HOLE FOR COSMIC POWER.  AND GOD IS IN EVERYTHING.  LITTLE BLACK HOLE JACK SUCKING UP THE COSMIC POWER IN EVERYTHING.  It took me a minute Dabb&Co, but hat’s off, that was pretty fuckin’ cool.  (I marveled over this revelation for about 15 minutes and then went back to sleep lol)

Hey, remember my first point about Dean always getting back up?  Yeah, that times a thousand, because now it’s him and Sammy getting back up every time they’re knocked down.  INSPIRING.  I WANT TO BE LIKE THEM WHEN I GROW UP.

Sam holding Dean upright.  Fuck.  *sobs in brochesters*

CHUUUUUUCK!!!!  I have been pulling my hair out since 14x20 trying to guess how they’d deal with Chuck.  I am FUCKING THRILLED with his ending.  Beautiful. Fucking. Poetry. 

AND JACK. SAVED THE WORLD.  TEAM FREE WILL’S SON WAS THE ULTIMATE HERO.

And Dean taking Cas’ last words to heart?  Knowing that he’s about love, not about killing?  alkdjfaz;oeirnfa;kldfj al;sdkjf elmoonfire.gif aldfj;adlks

Jack’s goodbye.  Oh Jack.  I love you so much you funky little nephilim.  Thanks for the heartfelt tears.  You are Good and the world is so blessed to have you.  A God with a Human Soul.  Perfect.

THE NAMES ON THE TABLE!!!  CASTIEL instead of CASS because FUCK THAT EXTRA S!!!

Fuck all of you making fun of the montage, I adored it and watched it like ten times before I went to bed last night.  If that had been at the end of 20 I would have side-eyed it haaaaaard.  But it was put in the perfect place in the season.  I appreciate the nostalgia bomb, thank you very much :P

ANYWAY!  Looking forward to 20!  Got my full clown gettup on!  And the airhorn and seltzer water WILL be used on any debbie downers and negative nancies that find their way to my inbox.

I LOVE SEASON 15 SO MUCH!!!!

BONUS CLOWNING:  NOW THAT DEAN IS FREE OF GOD’S MANIPULATION, EVERYTHING HE DECIDES TO DO IN REGARDS TO CAS IS OF HIS OWN FREE WILL AND HE KNOWS IT.  HE KNOOOOWS IT! 

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 11

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 11 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 11/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

[A/N - This one’s a bit longer, but there was no good ending point.]

Clara opened the door to her bedroom, only for it to collide with something.

“You just have to squeeze through,” the Doctor told her. He was sitting at her vanity.

“Doctor?”

“Why do you have three mirrors? Why don't you just turn your head?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“You said you had a date. I thought I'd better hide in the bedroom in case you brought him home.”

Clara looked at Elise who was lounging on her bed. “I tried telling him, but he didn’t listen,” the redhead told her.

“Bit early, aren't you? Did it all go wrong, or is this good by your standards?” the Doctor asked.

Clara collapsed on the bed next to Elise and put her head on the redhead’s stomach. Elise played with the ends of Clara’s ponytail.

“It was a disaster and I am extremely upset about it, since you didn't ask,” Clara told them.

“Fine. I need you, for a thing,” the Doctor said.

Clara sighed. “I can't.”

“Oh, of course you can. Come on, you're free. More than usually free, in fact.”

Clara pulled out her phone. “No, it's just possible that I might get a phone call.”

“From the date guy? It's too late. You've taken your make-up off.”

“No, I haven't. I'm still wearing my make-up.”

“Oh, right. Well, you probably just missed a bit. Come on, come on, come on, come on.”

Clara groaned and rolled off the bed, while Elise elegantly stood up. Clara walked into the TARDIS carrying her shoes. “I haven't actually said yes.”

“Yes, you know sometimes when you talk to yourself, what if you're not?”

“Not what?”

“What if it's not you you're talking to? Proposition. What if no one is ever really alone? What if every single living being has a companion, a silent passenger, a shadow? What if the prickle on the back of your neck, is the breath of something close behind you?”

Clara looked at Elise, who shrugged. The Doctor lead Clara up the stairs and showed her the blackboard with the word “Listen.”

“It looks like your handwriting,” Clara told him.

“Well, I couldn't have written it and forgotten, could I?”

“Have you met you?” Clara walked over to a table covered in books. “What's all this?”

“Dreams. Accounts of dreams, by different people, all through history. You see, I have a theory.”

“I'll bet you have. What theory?”

“I think everybody, at some point in their lives, has the exact same nightmare. You wake up, or you think you do, and there's someone in the dark, someone close, or you think there might be. So you sit up, and turn on the light. And the room looks different at night. It ticks and creaks and breathes. And you tell yourself there's nobody there, nobody watching, nobody listening, nobody there at all. And you very nearly believe it. You really, really try and then…” The Doctor reached out a hand and made a grabbing motion. “There are accounts of that dream throughout human history. Time and time again, the same dream.”

“It’s called Universal Consciousness,” Elise said.

“Don’t interrupt, Elise.” The Doctor turned back to Clara. “Now, there is a very obvious question I'm about to ask you. Do you know what it is?”

“Have you had that dream?”

“Exactly.”

“No, that was me asking you. Have you had that dream?”

“I asked first.”

“No, I did.”

“You really didn't.”

“Okay, yeah, probably. Yes. But everyone dreams about something under the bed.”

“Why?” The Doctor led her down to the console and placed Clara’s fingers into a squishy section. “Just hold on tight. If anything bites, let it.”

“What is it?”

“TARDIS telepathic interface. You are now in mental contact with the TARDIS, so don't think anything rude.”

“Why not?”

“It might end up on all of the screens. The TARDIS is extrapolating your entire timeline, from the moment of your birth, to the moment of your death.”

Clara leaned in towards the rotor and whispered, “Which I do not need a preview of.”

“I'm turning off the safeguards and navigation, slaving the TARDIS to you. Focus on the dream. Focus on the details. Picture them, feel them. The TARDIS will track on your subconscious and extract the relevant information. It should be able to home in on the moment in your timeline when you first had that dream. And then, we'll see.”

“What will we see?”

“What's under your bed.” He gave her a crazy grin and put the TARDIS in flight. “Okay, now don't get distracted. Remember, you are flying a time machine.”

Clara closed her eyes and tried to focus, but her phone starting ringing. Clara gasped and flinched, trying to refocus.

“No, no. Don't you dare. No, don't. Don't, don't. Just ignore it.” He grabbed her phone and tossed it behind him.

The TARDIS finally landed.

“Okay, that's good. That worked. We're here.”

“Sorry, I think I got distracted.”

“No, no, no, no, no. The date's fine. Come on.” The Doctor walked over to the doors.

“Come on where?”

“Your childhood.” The Doctor left the TARDIS.

Clara tried pulling her fingers out of the interface, but she was stuck.

Elise walked over and wrap a hand around her wrist. She gently pulled Clara’s fingers from the interface.

“Thanks,” Clara said.

Elise shrugged. “No problem.”

Clara was suddenly aware of how close Elise was to her. She looked into Elise’s green eyes, so much like her father’s previous regeneration. Clara blushed as she pulled away from Elise. “Come on. We should go before he gets himself into trouble.”

They left the TARDIS, but not before Elise looked back at the interface. She shook her head. No, she could try later. She didn’t want to leave Clara and her father on their own.

They found themselves standing outside a building at night.

“The West Country Children's Home. Gloucester. By the ozone level and the drains, mid-nineties. You must have been here when you had the dream,” the Doctor explained.

“Never been to Gloucester in my life, and I've never lived in a children's home.”

“You've probably just forgotten. Have you seen the size of human brains? They're hilarious. Little you must be in here somewhere, with your little brain.”

“Isn't it bad if I meet myself?”

“It is potentially catastrophic.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “The last time you met yourself, the universe ended.”

“Of course you’d bring that up now.”

“So why did you bring me out here?” Clara asked.

“I was still talking. I needed someone to nod. Probably best for you to wait in the TARDIS.”

“Doctor, I…”

“See you in a minute. TARDIS.” He pointed at the blue box.

“Doctor. If I had have been distracted, what would have happened?”

“We would probably have ended up in the wrong place. But don't think we have, because the time zone's right. I won't be long.”

The Doctor walked away.

Clara looked up and saw a little boy in a window.

He waved at Clara and Elise. He opened the window. “What are you doing down there?” he asked them.

“Nothing. Er, we’re just. What's your name?”

“Rupert.”

“Oh. Okay. Hello, Rupert.”

“Rupert Pink. It's a stupid name.”

“No, it isn't. I know somebody called Pink.”

“I meant Rupert. I'm going to change it.”

“Why are you awake? Are you scared?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Clara and Elise quietly snuck past the office where the Doctor was talking to the caretaker.

They wandered upstairs and down a long corridor. They entered a room and saw Rupert sitting on the floor by the window.

“Hello,” Clara said.

“Hello,” Rupert echoed.

“Nice room.” Clara pulled up a chair and sat in it, while Elise stood next to her. “You know, you should have more than one chair. What do you do when people come round?”

“Sit on the bed.”

“Why aren't you sitting on it, then? Do you think that there's something underneath it?”

Rupert nodded.

“Hey, everyone thinks that, sometimes. That's just how people think at night.”

“Why?”

“Did you have a dream? A hand grabbing your foot? You have, haven't you? You've had that exact dream.”

“How did you know?”

“Do you know why dreams are called dreams?”

“Why?”

“Because they're not real. If they were, they wouldn't need a name.”

Clara got up and walked over to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

Clara looked underneath it. “Do you know what's under there?”

“What?”

“Me!”

Elise laughed.

Clara rolled under the bed and laid on her back. “Come on, it's perfectly safe.”

Rupert laid next to her.

Clara put her hand out and wiggled her fingers. “C’mon Ellie! You know you want to.”

Elise playfully rolled eyes, before crawling under the bed with them, lacing her fingers with Clara’s.

“See? Nobody here, except us,” Clara reassured Rupert.

“Sometimes I hear noises.”

“It's a house full of people. Of course you hear noises.”

“They're all asleep.”

“They're all dreaming.”

“Can you hear dreams?”

Clara nodded. “If you're clever enough. But they can't harm you. You know, sometimes we think there's something behind us. And the space under your bed is what's behind you at night. Simple as that. There's nothing to be afraid of.”

The bed creaked as if someone sat on it. It sagged under the weight until the mattress nearly touched Elise and Clara’s noses.

Rupert started panting softly and Elise squeezed Clara’s hand.

“Who else is in this room?” Clara asked, softly.

“Nobody,” Rupert answered, just as soft.

“Someone must have come in.”

“Nobody came in.”

Elise and Clara rolled out and stood up. Something was sitting on the bed, covered in a red crocheted blanket.

“Hello?” Clara asked. She helped Rupert stand up. “Who's this? This is a friend of yours playing a game.”

Rupert shook his head.

“Playing a trick, are you, hey? A little trick on Rupert here?”

The bed creaked as the figure sat up taller.

“Okay. It's not funny this, you know.”

A light switched on. They all turned to see the Doctor sitting the chair by the desk flipping through a book.

“Where is he?” the Doctor asked.

“Doctor?” Clara asked.

“I can't find him. Can you find him?”

“Find who?”

“Wally.”

“Wally?”

“He's nowhere in this book.”

“It's not a Where's Wally one.”

“Well, how would you know? Maybe you just haven't found him yet.”

“He's not in every book.”

“Really? Well, that's a few years of my life I'll be needing back.”

Normally Elise would have been happy that the Doctor was acting like his silly self again, but there were more pressing matters. Like what the hell was sitting on Rupert’s bed for instance.

“Are you scared? The thing on the bed, whatever it is, look at it. Does it scare you?” the Doctor asked.

“Yes,” Rupert answered.

“Well, that's good. Want to know why that's good?”

“Why?”

“Let me tell you about scared. Your heart is beating so hard, I can feel it through your hands. There's so much blood and oxygen pumping through your brain, it's like rocket fuel. Right now, you could run faster and you could fight harder, you could jump higher than ever in your life. And you are so alert, it's like you can slow down time. What's wrong with scared? Scared is a superpower. It's your superpower. There is danger in this room and guess what? It's you. Do you feel it? Do you think he feels it? Do you think he's scared? Nah. Loser. Turn your back on him.”

“What?”

“Yeah, turn your back on him. Come on. You too, Clara, Elise.”

Every instinct was telling Elise to keep her eye on the thing.

“Elise, your back, now.”

Clara grabbed Elise’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Elise finally turned around to look out the window.

“Do it. Just do it now. Turn your back. Do it now, turn your back. Lovely view out this window.”

Rupert came to stand between them. 

“Yeah. Come and see all the dark.”

“The deep and lovely dark. We'd never see the stars without it. Now, there are two possibilities. Possibility one, it's just one of your friends standing there, and he's playing a joke on you. Possibility two, it isn't.”

“So, plan? Plans are good,” Clara said.

“You on the bed, I'm talking to you now. Go in peace. We won't look. Just go. If all you want to do is stay hidden, it's okay. Just leave.”

The figure came closer to them.

“Is it gone?” Clara asked.

“Don't look round. Not yet,” the Doctor told them.

“I can't hear anything,” Rupert said.

“Don't look round.”

Rupert started to turn around.

“Look away! Look away now! Don't look at it! Don't look round. Don't look round. Don't look at the reflection.”

“What is it?” Rupert asked.

“Imagine a thing that must never be seen. What would it do if you saw it?”

“I don't know.”

“Neither do I. Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes. You too, Clara and Elise. Give it what it wants. Prove to it that you're not going to look at it. Make a promise. A promise you're never going to look at it.”

“I promise never to look.”

“The breath on the back of your neck, like your hair's standing on end. That means, don't look round.”

The door slammed shut, signaling the departure of the thing.

Clara and Rupert spun around, while Elise reached out and grabbed onto the window to keep from collapsing.

“Gone?” Clara asked.

“Gone,” the Doctor confirmed.

Rupert frowned. “He took my bedspread.”

“Oh, the human race. You're never happy, are you?”

[inkribbon796]

Not So Baby Brother

Summary: Tubbo is trying desperately to bury his past, if only everyone around him wasn’t interested in digging back up in front of him.

A/N: Warning for hinted child abuse and endangerment. Both to Tubbo, Puffy, Schlatt, and to Michael. I try to keep the majority of it off screen or undetailed but it’s still there. These events coupled with his time with the SMP makes Tubbo in this AU who he is in the present. Which is emotionally withdrawn and prone to pushing people away.

Tubbo in the first flashback was about four, while Schlatt and Puffy were about 10.

~::~ 13 Years Ago ~::~

Tubbo was in his bed, hiding under the covers, hands over his ears as he heard the arguing and smashing of things across the house. The little four year old was so scared and he didn’t know what to do.

Then his door opened and Tubbo hiccuped in fear. He tried to stay quiet and still, hoping that if he did the person would just leave him alone.

A hand came down where his shoulder was.

Tubbo flinched.

“Tubster? You awake?”

The little boy let out a breath of relief, it was his big brother. Still scared, Tubbo peeked his head out from underneath the covers to see both his siblings there: Schlatt and Puffy.

Schlatt looked bad but he still smiled at Tubbo. “Hey don’t cry, c’mere[1].”

Tubbo was already crawling his way over to Schlatt and crying, and he couldn’t stop.

“C’mon,[2] you know what he’s gonna[3] do if he catches you crying,” Schlatt tried to calm him down.

Puffy came to sit next to them, her own eyes wet. Schlatt slightly rocked Tubbo to try and comfort him.

“Hey, T-Man,” Schlatt tried to soothe him. “Kinda[4] loud isn’t it?”

“We’ve got you,” Schlatt held Tubbo tightly, the younger brother still shaking and sobbing. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Tubbo nodded his head, clutching onto his brother. A little embrace of safety for a young boy whose life was so turbulent and scary. Tonight nothing would hurt, and that was what mattered to the young boy.

~::~ Present Day ~::~

“I was just thinking about it Tubbo . . . we like to have fun.”

“Schlatt, I can’t get out.”

“I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Uh, what have I been up to?”

“Everyone knows what you’ve been up to!”

“Do you know what we do to traitors, Tubbo?”

“. . . No?”

“Techno, you wanna come up here for a second?”

“Let’s just send a message, real quick.”

“Techno, if you would be so kind.”

“Murder him right now, on this fucking stage, and make it hurt!”

“Tubbo, I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick.”

“Techno, what the hell!”

“Wilbur!”

Tubbo shot up in bed, his eyes wild and heart racing. He was disoriented at first, expecting himself to be in some hole somewhere, still in pain after pulling himself together from a discorporation and desperate to escape before Schlatt found him again.

Tubbo surged out of bed, trying to get away.

Then he heard ruffling behind him and disgruntled child sobs.

And Tubbo came back to himself, he looked back to see Michael crying and Ranboo sitting up in his own bed. Tubbo mentally chastised himself.

“Mikey? Daddy’s sorry, did I wake you up?” Tubbo walked back to his bed, his pace quickening when Michael reached up and made grabby hands towards Tubbo.

Ranboo was already getting out of his bed and walking over to them. He looked like he was going to collapse in a heap of limbs on the floor. “Hmmm,” Ranboo hummed.

The two-toned teen stopped right outside the bed and gestured with his tail, “Can I join?”

Tubbo scooted over a bit, and Ranboo sat down as Tubbo tried to rock and soothe their adopted son. Ranboo making little cooing and odd vwoop noises, while Tubbo was humming some lullaby, that helped Michael fall back asleep with the familiarity.

A little family the two teens had carved for themselves.

Tubbo and Ranboo had found the small boy thrown away by some demon hunter as a “disappointing failure” and after Tubbo left Ranboo to tend to the scared and crying boy, Tubbo went to “fetch the adoption papers” and the mage was never seen again. Ranboo didn’t question what Tubbo had done but they took the boy, bundled him up in Tubbo’s jacket and got the boy some food before taking him into the Bee ‘n Boo before spending the next couple hours finishing the attic store room and Ranboo used their downstairs storage for all the establishment’s storage.

That day Ranboo busied himself around their bed and breakfast as Tubbo kept the boy entertained and fed. Michael immediately bonded with Tubbo, and Ranboo found himself falling in love with the boy as well.

The attic was immediately barred from all entry that wasn’t either of the owners. Tubbo made the announcement and was very firm. Beforehand it was frequently used as a temporary living space for Ranboo and Tubbo and they just didn’t want anyone in their personal space anymore.

Which was true but now Michael was there and Tubbo desperately didn’t want people like Quackity and Techno to find out about Michael quite yet. The boy had been through enough and . . . Tubbo wanted a little slice of peace.

He didn’t think that was too much to ask.

Right?

And it certainly didn’t help that bonds and possessions were treated like weaknesses to be exploited and used as currency. Sapnap and Dream had long since set a precedent for that.

So as Tubbo sat in the dark attic bedroom, holding his son in his arms, he pushed down his fear and focused on Michael, who needed him right now.

Soon the little boy was back asleep, tucked back into bed, and Tubbo threw up his arms. He got up because, after his nightmare, there was no way he was getting back to sleep.

So Tubbo changed into his suit and made sure he wasn’t wearing his horns before he left to go down to the staff lounge for a coffee.

“Tubs,” Ranboo called out, shifting in his suit and looking human. “You okay?”

“Yeah, go back ta[5] bed, bossman,” Tubbo dismissed.

“You sure, you’ve got a big day, and we got a lot to do here,” Ranboo looked uneasy.

Tubbo didn’t trust his voice at first, but when he did he told him, “Go back ta[5] bed. I’m grabbing a coffee.”

“Oh, okay,” Ranboo looked away and slowly went back into the room. Tubbo knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep. But at least it gave Tubbo time to clear his head.

After three coffees, four hours of paperwork, and bullshiting around with Tommy for a bit; Tubbo was overjoyed to put on his Bomble Bee costume and start running around town with Tommy like a maniac.

It was freeing, the suit went on and he wasn’t Tubbo anymore. He was free.

Logic and Jackie were less than enthused to find them by themselves, and Tubbo didn’t appreciate the babysitter, but at least Logan didn’t talk down to Tubbo during it.

They went on a patrol around Brighton, and they were halfway through when Logan brought something up, “You have a sister?”

Tubbo flipped up his visor to glare at Logan, “Thought we agreed family wasn’t shit?”

“There was no agreement on that matter, that was merely a comment you made,” Logic sighed. “If you feel unsafe around your blood related family that is one thing, but demon magic or not you are still underage and the Coalition is bound to follow the law as far as it is actually protecting people.”

“I legally emancipated,” Tubbo countered, flicking his visor back down. “Tommy’s an idiot who doesn’t know how ta[5] do shit. I don’t need anyone ta[5] sign anything fer[6] me.”

“Do you have copies of those legal documents?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, at the BnB,” Tubbo told him. “You wanna pop on over?”[7]

“There’s no rush at the moment, you can email me those tonight when you get home,” Logan offered Tubbo an out. “However, I would like to know the nature of your relationship with your family. You don’t need to go into detail, I trust you had your reasons for emancipation if that was the route you chose to follow.”

“Don’t talk with my parents, if you can call ‘em[8] that, and I haven’t fer[6] years, I only really talk ta[5] my older sister?” Tubbo told him. “She lives in Gainesville with her girlfriend.”

“Are you on good terms with her?” Logan asked. “I wouldn’t want you in communication with someone who is hostile emotionally or physically to you or your family.”

“Nah, she’s alright, she’s part ‘a[9] the Server though, you wanna[10] meet her?” Tubbo smiled.

Logan thought on that, “We might want to send some kind of warning if we go over. Last I checked, several of them had sent me death threats. Does your sister know you’re working with us?”

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo lifted himself up with his bumble bee wings, looking quite proud of himself. “I got several pissed off texts from some ‘a[9] the guys after they saw me an’[11] Big Man on the news. It was great, Quackity screamed at me fer[6] at least five minutes.”

“Are you certain you will be safe when you visit your sister?” Logan asked again.

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo promised. “Come on.”

The logical Side continued to ask questions, letting Tubbo use his phone to send a supervised text to his sister: Puffy. Then they started making their way over.

When they got to the condo Puffy lived at, Tubbo didn’t even knock. In fact he practically kicked the door open.

“Puffy!” Tubbo cupped his hands over his ears and called into the townhouse, calling out at the top of his lungs. “You fuckin’[12] Niki in here?”

“Fuck you, Tubbo! You little gremlin piece ‘a[9] shit!” Someone shouted from upstairs.

Tubbo chuckled and announced loudly, “I bought company.”

“Hide the good kush[13]!” Someone else yelled and Tubbo laughed even more.

“Hey Hannah,” Tubbo greeted as he walked in and motioned for Logan to follow him. “Alyssa in?”

“Don’t care,” Hannah was on her phone, sitting in an armchair. “She’s probably off with Callahan.”

“Yeah, prolly[14],” Tubbo replied. He started walking towards the kitchen, he quietly motioned for Logan to follow him.

Tubbo immediately went for the fridge, leaving Logan to just look around the little space. It was obviously lived in, and on the far wall were some pictures of several women with various people Logan recognized as being from the Server. But there was one almost hidden, almost completely tucked behind a bowl full of different colored rocks. It was a small framed picture in the corner of the kitchen, almost hidden from view, of a much younger Tubbo surrounded by some people that Logan didn’t recognize.

Logan didn’t have long to inspect the photos and start making inferences that he would most likely never ask, because someone stomped into the kitchen.

She had fluffy hair that was a chestnut brown on one side, and white on the other. Flecks of rainbow hairs interspersed on both halves. She was one of the people in the picture, Logan quickly realized. She resembled Tubbo a little bit, and on prolonged examination, Logan noticed that her fluffy hair was hiding a set of thick, curled ram horns. The kind that looked capable of crushing someone’s skull if they made an impact.

Logan figured that Tubbo’s would probably look like that in a couple years, just a bit more like a goat’s.

Tubbo glanced at her before asking, “Where are those rad fuckin’ ice lollies yeh bought?”[15]

“You took them last week for Michael,” Puffy snapped.

“Ohhh, yeah, he loved those,” Tubbo smiled, closing the freezer. He gave her a smug look. “So you didn’t buy more then?”

“No,” she gave him the stink eye. Then she glanced at Logan. “Who’s your friend?”

“Pardon me,” Logan spoke up. “My name is Logic, from the Coalition, I believe I texted you a little bit ago.”

“Yeah, I did get something,” Puffy agreed hesitantly. “Who’s this?”

“My mentor,” Tubbo pointed at Logic as he closed the fridge

“Huhhh,” Puffy hummed. “Hey, Tubbo, why don’t you go into the next room and watch some Adventure Time?”

“Don’t kill him,” Tubbo told her pointedly.

“And take that fight from Bad and Big Q, are you insane?” Puffy told him. “Oh, wait, you build bombs, of course you are.”

Tubbo held up two fingers, his middle and index, and flipped her off before walking off.

“You asshole!” Puffy told him and Tubbo was already cackling in laughter. When he’d completely turned his back, Puffy rolled her eyes and smiled. “Ehhh, he’s a good kid.

“He is,” Logan agreed, “Tubbo is intelligent and resourceful. Even if he is threatening to set off explosives under the guise of experimentation.”

“Yep, that’s Tubs alright,” Puffy chuckled. “He always liked figuring out how stuff worked, even as a little kid. He’s like a baby mad scientist.”

“Excuse you, I am a full blown mad scientist, I e’en[16] have the arrest record ta[5] prove it!” Tubbo boasted from the other room.

“From what Tubbo has told me, you seem to approve of him working with us,” Logan commented.

“Hell yeah,” Puffy told him, leaning against the counter as she watched him. “Between Ranboo, the Bee ‘n Boo, and working with you guys; Tubbo’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

“That is good,” Logan agreed. “Tubbo’s mental and physical well-being is of primary importance.”

“You talk like a textbook, you sure you’re not a robot?” Puffy asked.

“I do not classify as an inorganic being,” Logan answered.

“Sure you don’t,” Puffy smiled. “So what brings you to the neighborhood? I’m guessing you didn’t come over just to stand in our kitchen and look like Apple’s version of Robocop?”

“No, that’s not the reason I came to visit,” Logan agreed. “The Coalition prefers, if possible, to have a good working relationship with the families of our apprentices. So that in the case of emergencies they can be notified. While I am glad you and Tubbo seem to have a positive relationship, the more important question is are there any safety risks that any other members of your family would pose to Tubbo or his family?”

Puffy looked uneasy, “What has he told you?”

“Not much,” the logical Side admitted. “I haven’t known him for long enough, but when I asked him about his extraneous family, Tubbo mentioned he was emancipated, and that he was not in communication with his parents. He only mentioned you, and I have seen his son once.”

“We had an older brother,” Puffy frowned, looking over at the half-hidden picture. “Started turning into a demon around the same time as Tubbo and I, and he was . . .”

She looked down, “Well he was the type of demon you keep your kids away from, and I wasn’t there to keep my eyes on them.”

“That must have been a difficult experience for everyone,” Logan tried to offer his sympathies.

Puffy looked in the direction of the hidden picture, “I should have been there, it would have never happened if Phil and I had been there to stop them. But the real problem is Dream has something that can apparently restore a demon. I don’t know how thorough it is, or if it’s just something he tells Tommy and the others to make them afraid of what he can do. But he apparently needs some of the original demon’s essence or aura and both Schlatt and Will left those behind. Wilbur left Ghostbur behind, and Quackity cremated everything but Schlatt’s heart and five of his bones. Meaning if Dream gets his hands on even one of those bones then he could, if he does have that power, bring Schlatt back any time he wanted. And I’d ask you to get those bones from Quackity and Dream but that means going into the Server and there’s no way Dream would allow you in. Just, if Wilbur and Schlatt come back, promise me you’ll keep those three safe?”

“With my life,” Logan promised. “The death and manipulation of children are unacceptable.”

Puffy smiled, a breathy little snort coming from her, “You know, I always heard that legates were buttfuck insane. Glad to know you’re not.”

“I am not in the Coalition for fame and vainglory. Others might be, but I strive to make the world a better place, and such can only happen through the acquisition of knowledge and reason over fear. Of fact over fiction. Tubbo is, despite his demon aura and insistence to the contrary, still a child. And regardless of all of that he is a person who deserves to be in a safe and loving environment.”

“Yeah the Server’s never been that kind to minors,” Puffy scoffed. “It’s kinda[4] like taking a box of kittens and turning them into robotic war machines. Tubbo and Purpled just took to it better than the others.”

“How many minors are in the Server still?” Logan was concerned. The trio the heroes were dealing with already had their pasts marred by trauma and death, he’d never considered there were others still trapped in the same unsafe environment.

“You have three,” Puffy began counting. “Quackity still has Purpled and Fundy in Las Nevadas so they’re doing slightly better than they were before when they were working directly under Dream. You guys also got Jack, who just turned nineteen. But I would not trust Jack alone with Tommy, he threatened to kill him several times.”

“Thank you for the information,” Logan told her. “Anything else you can tell me about the other two minors?”

“So, Purpled is from a league of assassins and he loves money too much to defect,” Puffy dismissed. “You’d need to start paying him the big bucks to make him switch sides and Quackity already gave a good price. While Dream is paying his older brother through the nose to keep him out of Quackity’s hands as well. Punz is older than me though, so if Purpled went anywhere else it would be back with him. But Fundy is a different story. He’s Wilbur’s spawnling and Fundy is kinda[4] a basket case already. If you can get him away from Quackity, good, but I don’t imagine he’d go all that easily and Big Q’s only gonna[3] clamp down harder on him. Fundy and Tubbo were kinda[4] the server mascots back in the day since they were the babies of the group.”

“Everyone loved Tubbo,” Puffy smiled fondly before frowning sadly. “But that’s not the case anymore. He’s made himself a lot of enemies.”

“I see, thank you, I will relay the message to the others and we’ll do what we can for them,” Logan promised.

Puffy came off of the counter. “Thanks, no one in the Server really thought twice about those kids, they kinda[4] just tossed ‘em[8] around and personally I’m really glad you got the ones you do out of there. All three of ‘em[8] have been through enough.”

Then she went to poke her head out of the kitchen. “Tubbo, take yer friend and get out of my house, I don’t want you in here while we’re out.”

“Sure,” Tubbo kicked his feet up and already started for the front door. “Whate’er, go back ta snoggin’ yer girlfriend, I’ve got shit ta blow up.”[17]

And he was out, leaving Logan to immediately rush off after him, which got both of them out of the condo. Puffy watching them with a smile.

Tubbo, as it turns out, did not make good on his explosion test threats, he continued on his patrol, and then went back home to the Bee ‘n Boo. Walking in with a suit and his usual business-friendly smile. Logan, meanwhile, returned to the base to communicate with, especially Ethan, about what he had heard from Tubbo’s sister.

To clear his mind, Tubbo immediately went into his apiary to make sure his bees were alright. Which is exactly where Ranboo found Tubbo.

“Hey, Tubs,” Ranboo smiled and Tubbo managed a small smile back.

“Hey, bossman,” Tubbo was looking at him through the fringe of his hair, “how have things been?”

“Been alright,” Ranboo sat next to Tubbo, crossing his legs as he sat down. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Tubbo denied, trying to ignore what had happened in the morning.

“Because,” Ranboo mentally halted, “this morning you screamed and you looked really scared, and I didn’t know how to help.”

“C’mon,[2] big man, I’m fine,” Tubbo lied. “E’eryone[18] has the occasional nightmares, I was just jumpy. Happens ta[5] e’eryone[18].”

“Y—” Ranboo looked away. “Yeah, I guess, but you know you can talk to me? Right?”

“Yeah, of course, same fer[6] you,” Tubbo told him, both teens knowing that they kept secrets from each other.

“I’m thinking,” Tubbo redirected, “pizza fer dinner. Wanna order somethin’?”[19]

“Sure, yeah,” Ranboo agreed and after Tubbo finished caring for the apiary, and the pizza was delivered, they both retired to their dwelling and Michael was very happy to settle down with both his dads for the night. The little boy stuffing his face with pizza, and trying to feed some to his stuffed toy chicken. The three of them watched cartoons until Michael fell asleep and Tubbo tucked him into bed.

Tubbo and Ranboo hoped that tomorrow would be a better day for all three of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. come here

2. come on

3. going to

4. kind of

5. to

6. for

7. You want to head on over?

8. them

9. of

10. want to

11. and

12. fucking

13. weed

14. probably

15. Where are those really fuckin’ good ice lollies [popsicles] you bought?

16. even

17. Whatever, go back to kissing your girlfriend, I’ve got shit to blow up.

18. Everyone

19. pizza for dinner. Want to order something?

[littlefreya]

The Way to Hell - Part 4

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Summary: Post Mi6 - August manages to escape with his face intact and just won himself the title of being the most dangerous man on earth. With every agent in the world on the hunt for him, life became a living hell, but that’s okay because hell is where he reigns.

Too bad for the woman who’ll stand in his way.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 |

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6K

Warnings: Explicit Smut, dark themes, male/female masturbation, bodily fluids, mentions of sexual encounters, dirty words, sexual threats. It’s August, he’s the baddest of bad boys!

A/N: Soooooo this chapter was fun to write, I hope you guys like it :)! Thanks @agniavateira for being my editor and my emotional support! 

Title: Memento Mori

Funny, he’s never seen someone drown in icy water before. With her injury and massive blood loss, the struggle doesn’t last longer than a minute. This is beyond her natural survival instincts, gradually her muscles give up, running stiff as the blood in her veins chills.

August stares with rapt. Not once did the Valkyrie scream for help, or even begged him to save her.

Truth be told, it kinda pisses him off as much as he finds it admirable.

‘Such a strong-willed girl. Would be a shame to rid the world of her so soon.’

“Whatever,” he mutters and carefully steps toward the crack in the ice. His hands hoist the body up before she sinks below the surface. With water in her lungs and her muscles rigid, she’s impossibly heavier.

A red path of blood tarnishes the ice as he drags her body toward the edge of the lake. There is no urgency in his behaviour, relaxed he kneels to stare at the lifeless woman and wonders if in her hubris this is how she believed this day will end.

Her skin is pale blue, lips dark purple. Drained out of wit and life, those delicate Scandinavian features look like something out of a fairytale and he muses whether a kiss will wake her up.

It won’t make any difference to the world if she’s dead or alive, it certainly won’t make any to August Walker.

His digits stroke her frozen cheek, sensing the skin is stretched over the hardened muscles. He tilts her head up and presses at the hollows of her cheeks to force her lips open. For some reason, he thinks of a different dead girl, though they are nothing alike.

Planting his mouth over hers, he breathes oxygen into her lungs. Her chest rises, filling with the air he breathes into her. He repeats the process four times and then begins compressing her heart, watching her corpse lie peacefully on the snow.

Never in his years of service had he needed to perform CPR on another person. It’s not as melodramatic as shown in the bullshit movies he’s seen; no one’s shouting “C’mon girl! Breathe!!!” and hits her chest in despair. The owls and bats that chant between the large trees and the wolves howling at the moon from a distance couldn’t care less if Ingvild, whatever her-last-name-is lives or dies.

On the contrary, they’ll be thrilled to eat her eyes out.

He pauses on his attempt to resuscitate her and watches as no change appears in her face. His hands rest in the air, hovering above her for less than a second, considering if to give her another chance. He leans to capture her mouth again when Ingvild suddenly twitches, gagging as water seeps through her mouth and nose like some decorative fountain.

August observes quietly. Her eyes are shut, her body is only reacting instinctively, coughing out the water in her lungs. He nudges her to the side, draining the water out until she stops coughing and lays unconscious on the ground.

He moves his ear closer, listening to her soft breaths. He wonders how long will she survive in such a condition, suffering from hypothermia and massive blood loss. Letting her drown might have been a favour, he might have just granted her a cruller death.

Blackness surrounds her, chaining her to the ground. An excruciating pain blossoms in her lungs, as if someone placed a massive weight that smothers her while her throat and her nose sear with pain. The rest of her body feels numb, someone might as well leave her limbless.

The image in front of her appears blurry as she attempts to open her eyes and hang on to the tendrils of reality, uncertain when and where she is and what happened at all. Was life just a dream?

Or was it a nightmare?

‘Liam?’

No voice is produced from her lips, she is not even sure they’re moving.

The face that greets her is certainly not Liam. It’s the man who granted her this agonizing death. He looks at her with silent curiosity, not saying a word as her glassy eyes become more and more vibrant.

Her hands suddenly reach to his throat, clutching him with all the energy left in her traumatized body. As battered as she is, he still has to use force to peel her claws off of him. She struggles, grunting and hissing, her nails leave bleeding scratches over his cheek.

“Remember you are only alive for as long as I permit it.” August speaks to her calmly, impressed by her stubborn will to kill him even when she’s hanging by the last thread of her pathetic life.

The struggle takes no longer than a few seconds as her eyes roll back and she falls to the ground, unconscious again.

August collects her in his arms and rises, carrying her through the woods. “Better this way, princess,” he whispers to the sleeping beauty in his arms. The temperature of the water has slowed the bleeding, causing the blood vessels to clot and reduce the pace of her heartbeat. It benefits in keeping her alive, but it’s also slowly killing her.

He returns to the bed and breakfast to be greeted by the receptionist who stares at him, baffled.

“Too much to drink,” he explains, offering her a charming smile as he continues marching toward his room with the unconscious girl in his arms.

~*~

“Fucking mess,” he mutters as he enters the room and shuts the door behind him with his leg. That stab wound may be bleeding slower now, he hasn’t ruptured any viable organs. However, the gash in her flesh is large and still needs to be dressed.

He drags her to the bath and puts her on her feet, letting her limp body lean onto his while he unzips her suit and boots, stripping her to her undergarments. A crescent-like slit gushes blood at the side of her abdomen.

August places her in the empty bathtub before grabbing the first aid kit he bought at the hunters’ shop. Being a wanted man now, he had to be prepared for everything.

It was nearly him tonight that needed that first aid kit.

The scent of alcohol fills the room as he pours it onto her open wound. He waits for a response from her, maybe a twitch from the excruciating pain, yet Ingvild is so far gone she doesn’t react whatsoever. His finger presses to the tendon in her neck, only to make sure he is not taking care of a dead girl.

A faint pulse is there; her heart still beats. Yet her body is as cold as ice, and he knows that if he won’t take care of her soon her systems will begin to shut down one organ after the other. He sews her wound shut quickly, making unfashionable stitches across the wound.

“Sorry love, no more bikini for you.” he mocks the sleeping girl. “Although porn sites must be filled with scar-porn, so you’re good.”

After stitching her up and dressing the wound, he carries her back to the bedroom and lays her on the bed. Her skin is shivering, frozen and pale as death itself. She has hypothermia and needs to have her body temperature stabilized before every one of her major organs will go into failure.

“Not how I pictured us getting into bed naked,” August jokes without humour while beginning to peel off his clothes until he is completely bare. He towers over her trembling form and watches how helpless she appears. His hands run down her spine, reaching to find the hooks of her bra. It takes no effort to unclasp the flimsy soaked fabric and discard it on the floor. Next, he coldly and methodically slips her underwear off.

He takes no pleasure in stripping an unconscious woman who can’t defend herself or struggle, yet he cannot resist observing what’s laid right in front of his eyes.

The sight is indeed pleasing.

‘Hate me later, princess. I am just a man.’

August climbs onto the bed and lies in front of her. He pulls her toward the warmth of his body until her forehead is pressed against his chest and every inch of her skin is covered by his own. With a clenched jaw, he holds her close.

In his arms she trembles, teeth chattering, while her heartbeat is feeble and can be hardly felt against his chest.

He thinks of nothing while holding the cold, half-dead girl against him.

Nothing at all.

Not the memory of another dead girl.

~*~

Ingvild scratches a scab on her knee, watching the other girls as they play without her. They stick their tongue at her and call her a freak. She doesn’t cry, only sniffles gently while her small fingers pry at the itchy skin.

“Ingvild,” Sister Marja walks toward her, making a sour face as she sees the girl. She never liked her either. “Someone is here to pick you up, finally.”

Little Ingvild jumps from the dirty log she is sitting on, brushing her skirt and arranging her braided pigtails before joining Sister Marja. ‘That uptight crone, all she needs is a good fuck.’

The sister hurries toward the orphanage while Ingvild runs after to keep up. Her heels echo on the floor through the arched hallway of the facility.

A man waits for them in the office of the Mother Superior, Yet another crone who looks like she never had a good fuck. But there is a smile on her face, making her loose skin become all creases and wrinkles like a dried rotten potato.

Ingvild looks at the man who stands with his hands behind his back. His hair is black with few threads of silver. She is uncertain if he is smiling or not; the expression on his face is of a person who’s trying to appear pleasant but in a very contained way.

“Ingvild, this is Liam.” Mother Superior speaks in her terrible heavy smoker voice. “He is your new adoptive father.”

~*~

Warm light strokes her face, forcing her eyes to blink open slowly. A basic function that suddenly feels oddly painful. Her eyelids are too heavy as if she never opened her eyes before in her life. The scenery around her is still too vague; she doesn’t recognize the room at all, wondering if she is in another dream.

A word in her own language blurts out of her mouth as she tries to sit up, accompanied by a small groan. Everything feels out of place as if her limbs have been misplaced and her internal organs exploded inside her body. Pain begins to course through her body, starting with the muscle of her right forearm which now feels extremely strained.

“Ah…” she grunts out, tugging at her arm which is in an odd position.. But for some reason, her arm won’t budge. It’s tied to the bedpost above her head by a tight rope.

‘This is hilarious. Like watching a dog wake up from anaesthesia.’

“Hva?” she asks in her mother’s tongue. “What?”

She gives the bind a few good moments of struggling before giving up. It’s when the heavy blanket that covers her slightly descends from her chest. She realizes she’s been completely stripped of her clothes.

Panicked, she hugs the cover to her chest with her free hand. Her eyes were looking around with slight anxiety while she continues to pull her right hand in an attempt to free herself.

The scent of coffee tickles at her nose, alerting her that she is not alone.

August appears in front of her with a red cup of coffee in his hand. He wears that familiar arrogant look with a hint of a smile, so vicious and cold it makes her feel she wasn’t only stripped off her clothes but of her skin and muscles as well.

Would have been better if I was stripped and bound to the devil’s bed.

He takes the wooden chair, dragging it on the floor which makes her cringe at the screeching sound. Fragments of the night before begin to fill the gaps in her memory. She tied him to this chair.

Placing it in front of her, he sits down, legs spread widely with confidence she can only describe to herself as irritating as fuck.

She hugs the cover tightly to her chest, her legs curling toward her torso to shelter herself which suddenly inflicts an excruciating pain in her lower abdomen making her moan involuntarily . Peeking beneath the thick blanket, she finds the large bandage on her torso, stained with a few drops of brownish-red blood.

“Good morning, love, we’ve had quite the night.”

More shards of memory begin to cut through her mind. Like remembering an event that happened so long ago, it almost feels like a dream. Her mind fights to make sense, to grasp at the fuller image. She recalls gasping through the woods at night with weak limbs and a hand full of blood. Then a shot that ripped through the night. Bats were flying everywhere and then her body was cold for some reason.

No, she was freezing.

Like a videotape that’s cut off and glitches in the middle, her memory stops there. Making her stare at the Scandinavian pattern on the blanket as if she will find any answers there.

“Who is Liam?” August asks, taking a long sip from his coffee. There is much amusement in seeing her cowering before him looking so helpless right now. Stripped, unarmed, and bound to his bed after he took her life and gave it back.

He licks his lips at her which only makes the alarmed look on her face become more distinguished.

“You’ve undressed me?” she asks, finding out her voice is aching and hoarse, as if something seared her throat. “And tied me to the bed?”

August’s teeth are exposed to her as his smile widens. She makes a note of two sharp fangs, it makes him look like a vampire. “Perceptive, aren’t we? Wasn’t for any personal interest, you were in hypothermia.”

He gives a small pause, his eyes travelling across her covered body, unable to deny how nice it was to wake up with a naked woman in his arms. “Not that I didn’t enjoy having your tits pressed to me for an entire night.”

Even as lost as she is, she can’t help but roll her eyes at him and groan with hatred.

‘If anyone in Icarus hears of this, I’m done for.’

Was the stinging pain in her chest failure or sepsis? Either way, it stung. This was far from how she imagined this mission going along. Ending up as a captive of psychotic target, tied to his bed as a future sex slave or heaven knows what.

‘How the fuck did I end up here? Like this? Why?’

August watches as she frowns with deep concentration, forcefully trying to evoke some memory of all the lost hours from last night. He wonders if she knows he killed her. He’d very much like to remind her of that, of how she was at his mercy and the only reason she’s alive right now is because he allowed it.

‘And still she tried to kill me right after I gave her back her life. What a woman.’

“Who is Liam? And please don’t make me ask again, given the poor situation you’re at right now, princess.”

More echoes begin to float in her mind. It’s the look of superiority on his face, the piercing gaze that threatens to cut right through her.

“You tried to kill me!”

“No. I have killed you,” he corrects her.

“You were dead for at least 5 or 7 minutes.”

She stares at him completely bemused, her eyes seeking answers on the lines of his chiselled face. There is no remorse, no care, no mercy in it. She doesn’t even bother to look for affection, whatever that looks like. He is as cold as Helheim.

“But you saved me. Why?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face straining as he remembers that idiotic idea he had last night, that mistake that’s now lying naked on his bed. For a man who plans ahead, he hasn’t thought this one through, not even for a second.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, I only need you for intel. One wrong move and I’d be glad to put you back to the bottom of that lake.”

“You know who sent me, CIA, Erica Sloane.” She shrugs, staring at him oddly.

He leans forward in his chair looking deeper into her eyes, trying to invoke fear in her. Yet she remains stoic, only her eyes glaring at him like two icicles.

“How did you know I was here? Who else knows?”

“I’m a good tracker,” she answers, doing her best attempt to shrug her shoulders with one hand latched above her head. “And you are not as smart as you think you are, August Walker.”

August offers her a dangerous stare, crossing his arms around the wooden backseat while his feet push from the ground to lean closer to her. He doesn’t like to be challenged, especially not by silly little girls.

“Why is that?”

A small smile spreads on her face. “From all the vehicles you could have taken, you stole my bike.”

A hiss of disbelief leaves his nose but the answer doesn’t please him. He leans back on his chair until it lands forcefully on the ground, making a loud thud through the moderate silence in the room. His hand reaches toward her, grabbing her jaw and cupping it crudely.

“No, how did you know I was in Norway?”

She clenches her jaw, trying to escape his touch but his grip becomes firmer, his fingertips painting red marks on her sickly pale skin. “Answer me.”

“I didn’t-”

“Bullshit.” he challenges her, now closer to her face than she would have ever wanted. His hot breath is a breeze on her skin. Her natural instinct to learn details kicks in, forcing her to pay attention to every freckle s on his nose, his bottom lip, and the lines and small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

‘So much anger’, she analyzes. He is not even furious yet it seems he keeps so much bottled up.

‘Does he ever get tired?’

“I didn’t know,” she finally answers, both sincerity and scorn in her voice. Then, a small provoking smirk appears on her lips. “It was destiny that brought you to me.”

He snorts, shaking his head at her with disbelief, recalling their little flirtatious run-in 2 days ago. His eyes observe her while a smug smirk spreads across his face. He allows his gaze to travel further down her neck and her chest, attempting to peer beneath the blanket to get a reminder of what was pressed to his body the night before.

“Telling you the truth, August Walker, would have killed you then in the ladies room,” she provokes, aware of the fact that he’s staring at her chest even though she keeps it covered.

“Oh?” he returns his gaze back to her, a single finger now takes a hold of her chin, tilting her head up violently. “How would you have done that? I’m intrigued.”

Ingvild licks her lips, drawing attention to her mouth. It’s seduction that she offers but with that same cold, now vicious smile.

“Slicing your throat, while you’re were washing your stupid hair below the tap. I’d then shove a tampon up your ass and send a photo to everyone in Icarus and to Sloane so they can have a good laugh.”

‘My phone, shit.’

The mobile device is traceable, if Liam hasn’t heard from her in a few days he could find her. But now August has it, with the rest of the stuff he confiscated from her. She looks around, trying to find where he placed her items.

August interrupts her inspection, his hand wrapping around her sore throat with a menacing gaze. “Don’t give me any ideas, princess. I’m not the one tied up and naked here.”

“I need to go to the girls’ room,”

She ignores his threat, remaining calm despite the hand that can easily snap her neck.

He looks at her dumbfounded, clenching his jaw once more. “What?”

“I need to go…”

“I heard you.” he frowns, letting go of her throat forcefully and then shoving the chair back, making it screech against the wooden floor while pacing the room, irritated.

‘Great, now I’m a fucking babysitter?’

He begins to regret ever saving her pathetic little life. What is there to gain anyway? A guy named Liam? Whoever that is to her. She mumbled that name in her dreams when her body was struggling to fight for survival.

August finds the bathrobe in the shower room and throws it on the bed next to her, before hovering above her chest to cut her bindings with the same knife he used to stab her last night.

She tries to remain as relaxed and brave as she can, wanting him to think she is not intimidated by him and what she believes to be his empty threats. But every time he makes sudden movements. the intimidation shows in her beautiful grey eyes. Her body flinches and squirms helplessly.

If only she knew how aroused it made him, she’d be terrified.

“Try anything and I’ll unstitch you and let you bleed to death.”

Her wrist burns, the narrow rope has chafed her skin so badly there are deep purple marks on her flesh. She rubs it gently, trying to soothe the pain before grabbing the white cotton robe and staring at August with hatred.

He stares back at her while playing with the knife between his large hands. He slides a finger carefully on the edge of the sharp blade, making a harsh statement. No, he is not going to turn around.

Rolling her eyes she hides beneath the cover, pulling the bathrobe beneath and wearing it quickly, the relief of having something other than a blanket covering her feels almost astonishing.

At last, she throws the heavy blanket away and kicks her legs out of bed while wearing his oversized bathrobe. August remains silent, his eyes fixed upon her while the knife is pressed between his teeth.

Trying anything like killing him or escaping is far from realistic as she finds her legs hardly able to hold her own weight. The hardwood floor beneath her feet feels soft and mushy, if someone would have told her she’s stepping onto marshmallows she might have believed them.

She only manages to make two feeble steps before black spots appear in her sight and she falls forward with a pained grunt. She never makes it to the ground. Odd, she hasn’t noticed how big and strong he is when wrestling him on the floor. It seems that August has doubled in size.

“Who was it that didn’t love you, August?” she provokes coldly, grunting as she tries to lift her torso from his elbow. “Was it your mother? Or your dad?”

Silence and indifference is his answer to her query, with only a muscle that twitches in his cheek. He observes quietly as her hands grasp his biceps desperately and pathetically, trying to stabilize herself. It must make her hate him even more right now, to need him as much as she does.

He recalls how much he hated himself when he needed someone.

“Both then…” she answers, slightly panting.

“Did anyone ever loved you at all? Ingvild?” he taunts her back while helping her get to the toilet. He notices how her eyes look around while they move through the room, looking for her things, no doubt. She is smart, he’ll give her that, she is cunning and calculated even in her weakest moment.

But he’ll always be a step ahead.

“More than they loved you, I am sure.”

He lets her into the small room and shuts the door, leaning against it and patiently waits with his arms crossed. The sudden silence and her short absence begin to cloud his thoughts. It’s almost as if he’s dreaming awake, seeing her again, her hair falling from her decaying scalp like leaves falling from a tree.

‘Not more than you.’

The crude vibration of his phone snaps him back into reality. A message from one of the apostles, stating nothing but a location and an hour. He smirks to himself, glad to be soon away from this freezing hell. Now the question left is, what he should do with the little problem he created for himself?

Snap her little neck? Strangle her to death? Make it intimate, she deserves as much. He can already see his body hovering on top of hers, his hands wrapped around her, tight like a lover’s embrace. The robe opens as she struggles, exposing much of her naked flesh.

The thought makes him hum with delight but once again he is interrupted. This time it’s by her face that stares at him, blank of emotion, with eyes like two empty crystals. She leans against the door frame, her face tilted up to meet his gaze. “I need to shower. I smell like you.”

He wonders at all why he should fulfil her request. She’s a prisoner, not a guest, and far from being someone, he’d care for. His eyes run up and down her body and finally at the cold unreadable expression on her face.

“Whatever.”

The bathroom is rather large, surrounded by cream-coloured marble tiles that adorn both the walls and the flooring. There is a large, fancy bathtub in the middle of the room, one that is made to look old and classy with golden taps. An additional shower is placed at the other side of the room, surrounded by a thin wall of glass.

The bath looks so tempting, her eyes fixate upon it, fantasizing about slipping into a warm bubble bath with one of those pink and purple bath bombs.

August notices her fascination and snorts, edging her toward the shower instead. “You should’ve taken my offer back then, princess. Be thankful that I am allowing you the luxury of showering at all.”

For all, he cares she can die of infection, who knows what bacteria these lake water she bled into had.

“I’d take the shower over-sharing anything with you,” she spits back, her hand grasping the golden handle of the glass door. August remains facing, leaning against the marble tile with ease while sucking on his bottom lip with anticipation.

“Aren’t you going to at least turn away?” she asks naively, crooking her eyebrow up, bewildered by the large man who’s standing there with sheer confidence on his face, not bothering to give her an inch of privacy.

“No,” he smirks cockily, licking that small freckle on his lips. “You tried to kill me, I don’t trust you. But don’t worry, won’t be anything I haven’t seen before, princess.” he shrugs and tilts his head. His eyes gesture at the robe as he awaits for her to slip it off her body.

Ingvild chews the inside of her cheek with the fury that courses through her veins. He seeks to humiliate her even more, to show her again how little power she has.

But men are fools, a woman has more power over a man, especially when she is naked. She doesn’t mind what he sees and if he likes it or not anyway. Also, nervousness is not in her spectrum of emotions.

The white cotton robe falls off her body, landing at her feet with a soft thud. There she is standing completely bare before the man who tried to murdered her and who for some sick, twisted, megalomaniac reason nurtured her back to life.

Unlike last night, he has the freedom to linger on what stands in his sight. Milky white skin, stretched taut over an apt figure. Athletic; formed by years of whatever combat training she has endured. There are no scars on her body save for the new one he gave her which is hidden behind gauze. The thought of letting her survive just so she can curse him every time she sees the hideous crescent scar is quite the temptation.

He further inspects her body, imagining cupping her small breasts in his large hands, they will not fill his palms completely, but it will suffice. He was always more into women’s behind and the rounded shape of her tight ass is indeed pleasing.

“As I said, nothing I haven’t seen before,” he speaks out, letting his gaze travel back to meet her face again.

She hisses through her nose, rolling her eyes as she walks inside the translucent room and turns the stream of the water to wash over her body.

The heat of the water immediately makes her groan loudly with pleasure; it echoes through the entire room. Her body is far more battered than she even realized, it feels as almost as if she is being redeemed, baptized, or whatever other religious allegories she could think of.

She leans against the wall for support with both her palms flat against the surface. Her back arches and she lets her head tilt back with her eyes tightly shut. The damp hair sticks to her spine, while she lets the droplets of water slide between her perky breasts and down her torso.

Sweet moans escape between her lips with every second, accompanying the water that soothe her aching muscles.

August can feel the fabric of his trousers tightening as blood stirs through the veins of his cock. She squirms beneath the stream, moving so sensually while making these “fuck me” noises all too clear. It’s meant to tease and provoke him. He is tempted to march in there and fuck the living hell out of her.

Fucking her to death, now that one I haven’t tried before.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, turning to face him while the water trickles down her back. She can see the hardness in his groin, growing larger and larger with every second she stands there wet and naked.

“I am, actually,” he answers, not bothering to hide his desire.

She turns to face the shower tap, one hand plastered to the wall while the other leisurely runs down her chest. Smooth and slick, she allows it to circle her breast, making sure August can see how her finger brushes the hardening peachy nipple before descending along her flat torso.

His breath becomes rigid, his eyes furiously focusing on how she praises her own body. Her lids are half-hooded, hazy with lust and her mouth is reddening and slight swelling as she bites into her plush lips with delight. He dares, taking a step closer, allowing himself to have a better view of the show.

It is for him after all, is it not?

Tender and slow like honey, she lets her fingers creep between her thighs. In her mind, she fancies larger hands taking control over her body. A man’s hands, hands that are rough and callous, counter to how she is built, yet they caress her gently, working their way up between her inner thighs and spreading her open.

A feverish moan escapes her tightened lips as her fingers rub against her clit. She opens her eyes with her head thrown to the side. Giving August a lustful stare, cruel and full of snide she begins working herself with sensual strokes. She can feel her own wetness, thick and oily against her delicate fingers.

August’s nostrils flare, the bulge in his groin now enormous and aching for release.

Does she think she is torturing him? Does she even know men?

He inches closer toward the shower, close enough until so his hand can touch the glass which is now covered with tiny droplets of water and a thin layer of steam. His hand falls toward the zipper of his trousers, letting it sink before reaching out to pull his erect cock.

There is a smitten look upon her face, and an unpleasant chill runs through her spine as if she is intimidated by the sheer sight of him. Obviously, he is very much aware of how impossibly large he is. She gathers he is used to the look she is giving him, knowing exactly what’s going through her mind.

“Why are you stopping then, princess?” he asks with a cocky smile, his large hand wraps around the base of his hard cock, immediately beginning to stroke while eliciting deep, low groans.

Ingvild finds it surprisingly arousing, unable to help herself but stare at how his fingers engulf the fleshy shaft, feeling herself throb at the sight of the thick bulging veins and the ridges that run across his erection. When she started this little game it was in order to abuse him. But now, there is a certain desperation in her spiteful urge.

Looking at him as if driven to insanity, she lets her fingers massage her mound with increasing force, hard yet slow while her thumb traces the engorged nub. With every intent to let him see what he cannot take, she leans against the wall and parts her legs wide for him, letting him see her pink cunt and how her fingers play and tease while her other hand moves to squeeze her breast.

Her mind escapes into fantasies again, to urge the tingling sensation that burns between her thighs. Betrayed by lust, it’s him that she sees, holding her down as he did the night before, only that instead of trying to kill her he tears off her panties and splits her flesh open with his enormous cock.

The yelp that escapes her mouth is barely human, the image triggering something dark and unfamiliar and despite its wrongness now all she can think of is him.

August, on the other hand, is anything but inclined to indulge this. Pumping his cock urgently, he imagines pounding the little valkyrie against the wall, his grunts so low and loud he is certain the neighbours renting the room nearby can hear.

‘Have you ever fucked an undead girl? Imagine how sweet that wet little cunt must be after coming back to life… milking around you as if you are her saviour, your cock a gift sent from heaven…’

‘Or hell.’

Leaning his forehead against the glass, his breath leaves a veil of steam against the surface while he glances at Ingvild climbing toward her climax.

“Fuck!” She shudders, trying to fight the burning image of him in her mind, but these forbidden fantasies continue to assail her; all the different ways he could take her, exploit and humiliate her. How his body would feel atop of hers while he holds her down and hammer her into the floor.

Her battle wanes, heat spills between her legs as she falls into dark euphoria.

Seeing her arch against the tiles, naked and showered by ecstasy, his control finally snaps. August slams a hand against the glass, spourting white ribbons of cum all over the surface.

‘Oh to see her die and then burst with life…’

They stand in front of one another, both with heaving chests and frowning faces.

Finally, she turns the stream off and opens the glass door while August tucks himself back in. Apparent sweat covers his forehead while his chest is still heaving. She crouches to grab the robe, wearing it again while moving next to him with a teasing look on her face.

Although her legs feel feeble, the adrenaline made the blood kickstart her body again, her heart pumping with excitement as life returned to her system. She pushes past August scornfully, letting him follow her as she walks out of the bathroom.

He grabs her elbow, shooting her a warning glare. “Where do you think you are going?”

She tries to fight him but his grip is fierce and she is too weak.

“You are still a prisoner here,” he warns her and begins to lead her back to the bedroom and toward the bed while grabbing more rope on the way. He notices once again how she desperately seeks her personal belongings, gun, and phone.

“Don’t bother, angel, it’s all in the bottom of the lake.”   

______________________________________________

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible or August Walker

[nanaminsonyfans]

Between Worlds; Chapter Two

Prologue, Previous, Masterlist

A/N: Heyhey! I got this chapter finish in six hours. i didn't remember the episode that well so i used a transcript of the episode. But with my own spin as well.

Words; 2178

!!TW!! Mentions of blood and a 'F' bomb being used

gif does not belong to me

h/l = hair length

A beautiful sunrise peeked up through the mountains and some cliffs. You felt at home...even though something felt wrong about it. You landed Appa safely on the ground and yawned. It was a long journey, traveling by day and all through the night. You sighed softly hearing Sokka snore, it was comforting yet annoying sound. “Y/n, could you help me with the luggage?” Katara’s kind and gentle voice asked. You smiled and nodded, using your airbending to lift up the bundles from the saddle. Katara gave you a thankful smile while Sokka glared at you. “I need my beauty sleep!” He hissed with a voice crack. You giggled and looked away. “C’mon guys,” You waved them over to you, “I wanna show you one of the most beautiful places on Earth.”

“Y/n, are you sure it’ll be the same as you remember it? You’ve been gone for a hundred years.” Katara said cautiously. “I know, but I am still excited to see it.” You felt a childish like joy and wonder as you approached the path to the said temple. “Woah...y/n it’s beautiful!” She said as you approached the temple.

Zuko’s Fire Nation cruiser: 10:25 am

“By the years end the Earth Kingdom should be under our rule.” The room at an aura that was dark and gloomy. Zuko sat at the table with his uncle standing at his side, as Zhao spoke. “The Fire Lord will finally have victory in this century-long war.” He said smirking menacingly. “If my father thinks everyone and thing will bow down to him, then he is as much as a fool as you...Zhao.” Zuko said that name with such bitterness and anger in his voice. Zhao gave Zuko a stern look whilst glaring, “Two years at sea as tainted your tongue. Brat.” He spat with the same bitterness as Zuko. “Do tell, how is the search for the Avatar going?”

That question set Zuko’s stomach and heart ablaze. The room became hot and humid, it would have been suffocating to anyone that wasn’t a fellow Firebender. Iroh felt the anger rising in his young nephew, so he placed a hand on his shoulder as if to calm him. “We have found her yet.” Zuko answered, his mind wandering to you. Those rosy cheeks, the pink tip on your nose complementary by the cold. He gripped his pants, knuckles turning white. “Her? The Avatar is said to be a male.” Zhao spoke, narrowing his eyes at the Prince, an evil fire and objective behind them.

“My nephew has misspoken. He has other things on his mind. Please keep that into consideration.” Iroh defended, giving Zhao his loving smile as he chuckled softly. Zhao glared and sat down in front of Zuko, staring into his golden orbs. “Then tell me, Prince Zuko, how, exactly, was your ship damaged?”

You smiled as you lead Appa and your new-found friends to the outside of the air temple.  “When can I get food?” Sokka whined and rounded the corner, the temple now fully in view. “You’re kidding right?” Katara said angrily, with her arms crossed while glaring Sokka. “You are one of the few outsiders that have ever seen the airbender temple and all you think about is food?” Sokka looked at Katara with a blank expression, “What? I’m a growing boy.” He teased as he followed you.

You sighed softly taking his the fresh air and the sight. Memories started to fill your head, childhood-like memories. It felt comforting yet...scary to you. “This is where we used to play airball...this is where the bisons slept.” You explained pointing to everything. Your eye fell onto scorch marks on the walls and weeds. Your face turned into a sulking expression. “Y/n? Are...are you okay?” Katara asked, placing a loving hand on your shoulder. You flinched, moving away from her as tears filled your eyes. “I’m sorry, I just need a moment alone.” You mumbled, running off into the temple, your footsteps echoed and soon faded away.

You let the tears finally flow when you got to a room you recognized. This was your room, right? You leaned your back against a wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. You hugged your legs close and placed your forehead on your knees. You started to cry. These memories weren’t yours. They were his. You stole his life, and it felt wrong. You feel so conflicted. This was suppose to be a dream, a good dream. It started to feel like a nightmare. You can’t remember what happened in the show now, and you were using that knowledge as a guide. Now you just had Aang’s memories and a few of yours. You knew your name, your sibling’s faces, your parents, but not their faces. The thought of never seeing your family scared you to no end. You let out a sob and tried to catch your breath. You felt lost and you didn’t know what to do.

Fire Nation cruiser: 11:05 am

“A girl bested all you Firebenders?!” Zhao yelled in disbelief then started to laugh. “I should have known you were too pathetic to capture an Avatar let alone a woman.” He hissed still laughing though. “I underestimated her once! It won’t happen again and I can promise you that.” Zuko growled, slamming his fist down on the table, denting it. “That is highly unlikely, young Prince. You are not getting another chance.” He said, now standing up and smoothing his robes. Zuko’s eyes widened in shock, “Commander Zhao, I’ve been hunting the Avatar for two years and I-” “And you failed. The Avatar is much of importance for any more failures.” Zhao hissed, fire spreading from his feet. “The Avatar is the only person that can stop the Fire Lord, you failed to capture her.”

“Her name is y/n!” He hissed and shot fire at the Commander before being restrained by a few guards. “Why would you know or care for her name?” Zhao questioned walking over to Zuko. “Are you becoming more of a traitor by becoming interested in the Avatar?” He asked with a dark tone. Zuko’s eyes widened again and he kicked the guards away. “Of course I am interested in her. She is the Avatar and my ticket back home.” He hissed walking out, after shoving past Zhao.

He can’t be actually...liking the Avatar. She was pretty, anyone can appreciate beauty without being attracted to the source of beauty. Right?

“Y/n! Y/n! Where are you?” It felt like a familiar voice, getting closer and closer. Your mother’s voice. You opened your eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the darkness. ‘Did I fall asleep…?’ You thought as you looked around. There was the sound of something moving, it was quick but there. “Wh-Who’s there?” You asked with a slight waver in your voice. 

You held your staff out and poked the cot where you saw the movement. You poked something soft and it screeched jumping out. “Momo?” You asked walking closer to the creature. The creature tilt it’s head while looking at you. Your cheeks turned red in embarrassment. “Sorry, I just feel like I know you. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. Wouldn’t even dream of it.” You smiled holding out your hand for him to climb into or sniff. He did both of those, perching on your shoulder happily.

You smiled, you had a new friend. “I should go find the others huh?” You asked giggling softly as he chirped in response. You started to walk down the halls, you saw a soft twinkle of fire and the end of the hall. You hummed softly and followed it, feeling the bison and the two water tribe siblings. “Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep.” You said guiltily, scratching the back of your neck looking at the two. “Oh thank goodness you’re okay!” Katara said teary-eyed and hugged you. You stumbled back but hugged her as well. “Sorry, memories just came back and I needed to alone.” You explained looking down. “I understand, you must be overwhelmed. Sokka found some fish for dinner.” She said gesturing to the campfire, with three fish rotating from a stick Sokka was turning with a bored look on his face. “Okay, well this is Momo.” You smiled gesturing to the lemur sitting on your shoulder.

“I rather have him for dinner.” Sokka grumbled under his breath, still turning the stick. “Don’t be so negative.” You glare and crossed your arms. “I’m going to explore more, it’s been a while. Katara would you like to come?” You asked sweetly. She nodded and started to follow you as you walked away. You had to move some vines away from some hallways as you walked. Then you fully saw the damage done to the monks and airbenders.

Your eyes widened at the damage. Fire Nation soldier armor was littered everywhere. Burned and scorched monk robes. Your heart shattered at the sight, reality setting in. Then it was set on fire with rage. “Y/n...are you okay?” Katara asked feeling worried, Momo felt it as well and jumped off of your shoulder. You clenched your fist tightly, digging your nails into the palm of your hands. You broke the skin and drew blood. Your tattoos started to glow as wind circled you, slowly turning into a tornado around you. Your h/l h/c hair whirled around as well. Your eyes glowed blue as you turned into a beaming light. You seemed to be watching yourself from the outside. You weren’t in your body.

Katara’s worried voice seemed so far away. You were swallowed whole by the darkness. “Who are you?” A familiar voice asked, causing you to turn around looking for the source. You were in a pitch-black room, the voice echoing. It was his voice. You started to panic and finally, he came to view, dressed in the same monk robes as yourself. It was Aang. “I-I am y/n.” You said with a shaky voice blinking back tears. “Why did you take over my life?” He asked in an irritated tone, which scared you. “I don’t know, I didn’t mean too. I went to sleep and then I woke up here and-” “Well leave!” You flinched and backed away. “I-I don’t know how!” You cried

Katara was trying to snap you out of it. “Y/n! Y/n snap out of it!” She yelled and tried to get closer to you but the wind blew her away. Sokka caught her thankfully. “Katara! What’s wrong with y/n?!” He yelled as the wind blew more angrily.

There was a Fire Sage temple in the mountain above where you were. An old man was watching the situation unfold and then he saw the beam of light. “The Avatar is alive and back! Contact the Fire Lord immediately!” He yelled at some other sages, causing them to flinch and runoff in different directions. You started to cry in your Avatar state. Tears flowed down your cheeks like a river as the glow slowly started to fade, as well as the wind. You fell to the ground on your knees and started to cry. 

“She’s out of it.” Katara said breathlessly and scrambled to her feet, running over to you. Sokka followed with Momo on his shoulder. You were still crying, but your face was blank as you stared at the grassy patch you landed in. “What happened?” She asked softly hugging you tightly. “I-I’m sorry Katara. I don’t know what came over me.” You whispered wiping your cheeks while sniffling. “Hey, it’s okay. We understand.” Katara said soothingly, “You must miss them.” “Uh, we do not understand! You just went full-” Sokka started then stopped after Katara shot him a glare. Sokka ended up feeling bad and got down on the ground, hugging you as well. “I-I do…” You whispered and looked up at them, but you noticed a hawk. With a Fire Nation symbol, oh fuck. 

“We have to go. I put us in danger. I’m so sorry.” You said grabbing your staff running to Appa. “But we haven’t eaten dinner!” Sokka whined but followed you with Katara. “We don’t have time. We have to go now.” You said with urgency in your voice. The two siblings picked up on that and started to grab their things. Sokka made sure to grab the three fishes as he climbed onto the bison. “Momo c’mon!” You called for the lemur, who flew to your side immediately.

“Appa! Yip tip!” You said while gripping the reins with your trembling hands. Appa groaned in response and started to fly. You glanced and saw the Fire Sage temple. How could you have been so stupid?! You don’t belong here. “Hey y/n, eat something.” Katara said, holding out one of the fishes for you. “No thank you…” You responded, “I’m vegetarian.” As if on cue, Momo snatched the fish and started to eat it. “By the way, where are we going?” Sokka asked.

“I-I’m not sure.”

Taglist;

@imagine-yourself-happy​ @lilmou5ie​ @toobsessedsstuff​ @bluecrystals01​ @foolishgang​ @alrightberries​ @cheyenne-dunn-universe​

If you would like to be in this taglist please send an ask or just message me!

[kitkat1003]

On the issue of Mortality

AO3 Link

MK chose to be mortal, to be vulnerable, for the time being, and Monkey King is fine with that.

On the surface, at least.  Now he has a successor, one that he likes, and he’s vulnerable????

Yeah, he’s never going to sleep easy again.

(Or, 11 chapters through season 1 about Monkey King, and anxiety his successor gives him.  Who knew being a dad teacher would be so hard?)

Chapter 1: Picking a successor

(Or “Look, I’m gonna come clean.  Um...I’ve been kinda watching you”)

When Sun Wukong—the Monkey King—decides he needs a successor, it isn’t an easy decision.  For one, he refuses to admit why.  Because that would mean confronting it all and he doesn’t want to.  

He needs a successor because he wants one.  Who doesn’t want to retire?  It’s not like he’s spent hundreds of thousands of years in technical retirement, waiting for the Demon Bull King to return.  No, he’s been...super busy.  Yeah.  Turning Flower Fruit Mountain into a paradise has totally taken him…forever, and, like, he’s got lots of stuff to do.  He watches TV, once humans get electricity figured out.  Gets a computer too, once those things start popping up.  He gets a lawyer or two, yknow, keeping up with the times.

He’s...super busy.  He definitely deserves a retirement.

So all that’s left is find a successor.  Easy, right?

Well....

He actually starts looking when he hears whispers that the Demon Bull family is starting to get close to figuring out how to lift his staff.  So about a hundred years before Demon Bull King actually escapes.

He finds a few kids he thinks might work, but nothing happens, anyway, so there’s no point in interrupting their boring normal lives for nothing.  Besides, he doesn’t really see any of them with the spark of...something that he wants in his successor in any of them

He watches them grow.  Child to teen to adult, he watches, and then he leaves before they get too old because he doesn’t want to see the headstones.

He doesn’t understand why they have to be human.  Why they have to be mortal.  Why they have to be able to die.

Why he has to watch them die.

Years and years pass.  He gets lax, when looking for a successor.  Lax when it comes to keeping an eye on the Demon Bull family.

He does, on occasion, watch the town where his staff is.  It’s a pretty populace place, always buzzing with some sort of activity, which is both fun and boring.

One night, he watches a kid—no older than 13, he thinks, since he’s gotten used to watching humans grow and can gauge it pretty well—sprint down the street in the rain, wearing nothing but a ratty old hoodie, a shirt, shorts, torn up shoes, and a headband so dirty that even he can’t discern the original color.

There are three other figures chasing him, and he ducks into an alley as they sprint past.  Monkey King watches as the kid settles down, sitting in the alley, and pulling something out from beneath his hoodie.

A puppy.

“Hey there, little guy,” the kid’s voice is soft, and he scritches the tiny pup behind the ears.  “Sorry I couldn’t get your siblings, but they’d already been thrown in the lake—” the look on the kid’s face is nothing short of heartbreaking. 

Monkey King has plans for the group of thugs he saw earlier, if that’s what they were doing. Humans. 

“But hey, managed to save you, huh?  I’ll bring you to a shelter in the morning.  Someone will take you home and you’ll get loved to death.” Monkey King rolls his eyes at the saccharine display, but he wonders.

There isn’t a lot of crime in this city, with its advancements.  What’s a kid doing outside this late at night?

“I’d take you home with me, but mine’s more of a hovel than a place to live.  You can still see it, though!  C’mon,” the kid gets up, stumbling a little, and Monkey King notices that he’s favoring one leg, that the elbow of one of the sleeve’s of his hoodie is wet.

He follows.

The kid’s house is literally a shack made of a metal sheet wedged between an alley wall.  There’s a ‘bench’ that’s a slab of rock placed on top of more rocks, where a well loved sketchbook sits.

The kid sits on the bench, setting the puppy down beside him as he flips open his sketchbook.

“I’m gonna draw you, so I don’t forget, kay?” He pats the pup on the head, and then, using the smallest, most worn down pencil Monkey King has ever seen, he slowly carves out the puppy’s features, getting the soft tones of fur.  He keeps squinting, but Monkey King thinks that’s because all he has is the light of the lamppost for his vision.

This kid...is pretty darn good.

Monkey King watches for way longer than he would like to admit, and then watches as the kid pulls out a very worn blanket-substitute, curling around the puppy beneath it.

He frowns, but isn’t sure what to do about it.

So he leaves, and makes sure those thugs learn a thing or two about treating animals with respect.

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This kid just keeps popping up in Monkey King’s peripherals.

He likes to people watch, and the kid will just appear from nowhere.  He’ll be running down the street, hanging out with this girl who looks about 3 economic classes above him. They’ll go to the arcade and play for hours, and she’ll pay for practically everything.

He decides he likes her, if she’s nice enough to do that for the kid.  Plus, he feels a familiar energy coming off of her, something he trusts.

They typically end their day at a noodle shop.  Pigsy’s?  The kid always pays there, with coins of various sizes.  The girl, when the kid isn’t looking, will slip the cook some more money.  They get steaming hot bowls of ramen, harass the cook, and eventually get half chased out, laughing all the while.

“You know you can stay with me, right?” The girl says, one day, when Monkey King is people watching (read: eavesdropping on their conversation.  It’s like his new favorite TV show, at this point).  Kid rolls his eyes.

“Mei, c’mon, your relationship with your folks is as strained as mine!  I wouldn’t want you to end up like me.  Besides, I’m fine!” he insists with the grin Monkey King has grown accustomed to seeing on Kid’s face.  

The information Monkey King gains from those two sentences is certainly something, and he ponders on Mei, the girl who spends her days as far away from home as possible.

Mei frowns.

“You still won’t show me where you’re staying.  Or explain why your clothes are all torn up!” She pokes him in the chest, and the Kid shrugs.

“Cause you wouldn’t like either of those things!  I can take care of myself!  Promise.” He rocks back and forth on his feet, all smiles.

Mei fixes him with a glare, before she sighs, relenting. “Fine.  But, if you won’t take my hospitality, you get my undying loyalty and free stuff!” She whips out a brand new red winter coat.  

Kid takes it slowly.

“It’s getting colder out!” She explains.  “And red just isn’t my color, you know?”

Kid slowly pulls the jacket against his chest, like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and then he smiles.  This one is smaller.  Less performative.  Monkey King didn’t realize that he’d been watching the kid to be able to tell the difference, but it’s not too hard to see.  Kid uses big smiles like a cloak, to hide what’s underneath.  The smaller ones-those are like the slivers of sunlight shooting out from an eclipse.  Wukong finds he prefers the smaller ones.

Kid wraps his arm around Mei’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Mei.”

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The days get colder, and Kid is still in that shack.  Monkey King finds out that Kid doesn’t steal for money.  Instead, he does little odd jobs for short change, and then looks for coins people have dropped.  Apparently, the city’s wealth has made people more loose with their change.

Mei drags him to warm places as often as she can, but apparently this time of year she has a lot of responsibilities, or “social events,” as she calls them, so she can’t be around as much.

Kid doesn’t seem to mind, shivering through the nights, curling himself as tight as possible with that jacket and shitty blanket, and Monkey King doesn’t know why he even cares, but...

He’s not cruel.  It isn’t pleasant to watch a kid suffer.

And then, Kid gets sick.  Like, delirious, fever sick, and he’s not getting better.

And Monkey King has told himself, a million times, that he would let Kid figure his own life out, but he ends up picking Kid up anyway, depositing him at the ever familiar noodle shop.

The cook drags the boy inside, and Monkey King doesn’t see Kid on the streets after that.

Good.

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Kid starts working at the noodle shop, apparently, and he lives above the shop.  Slowly, he accrues random objects.  Sketchbooks, games, figurines, Monkey King comics?  He watches the show near religiously, and Monkey King is both flattered and weirded out.

A super fan, huh?  Okay then.

And when he isn’t working, or watching “Monkey King: The Animated Series,” or reading Monkey King comics, he’s begging the resident bookworm, Tang, for stories, which he then sketches out.

Monkey King actually goes through the sketchbook once, when Kid’s asleep.  Yup, Kid’s really, really good at this.  Monkey King actually thinks about stealing a drawing, but that would be both very obvious and also stupid.

So he lets it go.  He ought to look for his successor, anyway.  He hears the Demon Bull family is getting close.

He leaves Kid to his life and moves on to his own.

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He can’t find a successor.  Somehow.  It’s like every person in this city (and it would have to be in this city, because you need to be close to the staff in some regard if you want to have a connection with it.  Being born near it, living near it-makes it easy for the energy, the chi, to find you) doesn’t want anything to do with hero business.  The kids he considers are too small, the adults too...boring.

And he’s getting pretty frustrated here, because he thinks he might just have to fight the Demon Bull King all over again, which, ugh.

And then, it clicks.

He’s watching Kid drive around town, delivering orders, and somehow the kid steers towards the construction site.  Toward the staff.

Of course.

God, it was literally staring him in the face.  He feels kind of dumb, now that it hits him, but whatever.  Not like anyone’s around to tease him about it.

He watches Kid waltz towards danger, music in his headphones too loud to notice the literal demon family, until Kid opens his eyes and sees the whole demon army there, and hoo boy, is this comical.

Monkey King wonders if they’ll succeed this time, in lifting his staff.  They certainly seem confident.  He’s kind of curious, kind of bored.  The whole ‘take our rightful place as rulers of this world’ schtick is super annoying, and Red Son’s voice is grating.

The light show is pretty nice, though, and then.

Then.

Demon Bull King’s a lot smaller than he remembers, but his voice is the same, as is his attitude.  Monkey King can feel Kid shaking and takes a quick sweep of the area.  Seems his successor is right above Red Son.

He smirks to himself, not that anyone can see considering he’s a bird right now.  

This is going to be hilarious.

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When Kid touches the staff, Monkey King isn’t prepared for the feeling he gets.

It’s like he’s been the single Sun in an endless galaxy, surrounded by darkness, when suddenly another star appears from nowhere, throwing him into orbit with it.  The galaxy shifts, the light doubles, the darkness recedes.

Monkey King’s own center, his sun, feels red hot, warm, and tempered by years of life, with a spark of yellow and white in its center.  Kid’s is bright, brilliant golden yellow, more white than any color, bursting with energy.

That energy gets put to work pretty quickly, as the Kid fumbles his way out of the demon’s den, and Monkey King soars after him, watching the escape with a smile.

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He doesn’t properly meet Kid until he gets shot all the way to Flower Fruit mountain.  After Kid escapes Red Son, he panickedly tells his friends what’s going on and tries to get there on his own.

Well, all the way is a bit much.  Maybe Monkey King had to catch Kid and fly him there, because Kid was looking half dead and Monkey King was a little worried, but that’s beside the point.  He leaves Kid on the shore, and follows him when Kid gets up.

He isn’t expecting the frustration, when he can’t be found, but he supposes that’s his cue.

Getting stepped on is unpleasant.  Guess Kid doesn’t like bugs.

God, the look on Kid’s face, when it hits him that Monkey King’s been watching him!  If he could frame a memory, that would be it.  Hoo, boy, is that going to be replaying in his head for a while.  Kid seems more bewildered than anything else, and the idea of being Monkey King’s successor doesn’t sit well with him.

Which, Monkey King doesn’t get that.  Who wouldn’t want to be taught by him?

But maybe he overestimates the kid’s spunk, his confidence, because waving off his worries doesn’t spur him on; rather, it seems to deflate him.

Ugh.  Why is being a teacher difficult?  It’s not like his teacher had a hard time with him, right?

Distantly, he thinks he can hear his master shouting at him.  He hops off his cloud, says just the right thing to get Kid pumped up, and watches him race off.

He considers just sitting back and not watching, but then, that wouldn’t be any fun, would it?

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He isn’t actually sure what having a successor means, really.  How much their powers, their lives, would mirror his own.  A part of him was terrified by the prospect—could he even be known as anything special, if he was no longer one of a kind?

But there’s also something quite exciting about this.  The idea that your life is being rewritten, the story unfinished and yet also repeating itself.  The Demon Bull King is on the loose, with his army and family, trying to take over the world.

And only one person can stop him.  The Monkey King.

Kid’s powers are volatile.  He can feel them flare up from time to time, wildly flickering out of control.  A lack of self confidence, that might be causing it.  A part of him is annoyed by that, a part of him is relieved.  Far better to have to teach someone to believe in themselves than teach them humility.  He’s pretty sure he hasn’t learned that latter lesson all the way yet.

Kid vanishes into the Demon Bull King’s chest, where the staff lies, and for a moment, the new sun vanishes.  Monkey King feels the cold rush of space in its absence, and feels panic, even though he’s only known this warmth for a few hours.

But then, it bursts back into existence, as a familiar stone drops from the Demon Bull King’s chest, cracking open, and, well, it’s history being written the same way over and over again, isn’t it?

Kid has a flair for silliness, childish maneuvers.  He likes to have fun, and that’s the best part of the powers they share.  To be invincible, to have fun while saving the day. 

It’s a repeat, until, well, it isn’t.

The blow Kid takes makes Monkey King wince.  The body becoming invulnerable takes time.  It doesn’t just immediately show up.  Every second, Kid’s body is absorbing and meshing with the powers thrust upon it, but that doesn’t mean getting hit a mile by a guy twenty times your size doesn’t still hurt, at this point.

But Monkey King knows this is what has to happen.  Because heroes aren’t heroes if they never feel pain, never get hit.

Heroes, he thinks, as Kid tears himself from the wall he’s embedded in, as Kid stands, eyes ablaze, are heroes when they get hit and they get back up.

And Kid sure as hell does.

“I’m the Monkey Kid!” He shouts, like a battle cry, like a challenge, and Monkey King smirks.  Monkey Kid, huh?  It suits him.  And then, Kid slams the staff on the ground, and the world shifts.

A part of him is kind of jealous.  How come he never got a mech?!  Has that been a thing this entire time?  Another part is in awe of this Kid’s creativity, ability, at such a young age.

And seeing DBK get trounced again certainly keeps the jealous part of him quiet.

Kid’s got a nice group of friends.  Reminds him of his journey days, him and a rag tag group of idiots going around wreaking havoc and learning moral lessons at the end of it.  He’s glad Kid isn’t alone or on the streets anymore.  A strong foundation leads to a stronger ability to grow.

Well, he’d better get some sort of training regimen ready.  Or, at least, start thinking of some things to do to train this kid.  He’s sure at some point Kid is going to bug him for a lesson or two.

Somehow, the thought doesn’t bother him as much as he thinks it should.