#i caught a fly in a glass and i am currently trying to drown it in the bathroom

[cinematicnomad]

got to addis ababa and i am the only one out of my group staying at a particular hotel and it is....so gross and rundown (there are Mysterious Stains™) that i am worried to sleep on the bed

i had already decided to swap hotels for tomorrow night to where most other people are staying and i was going to eat the cost myself but i sent some pics to my boss to get her opinion and she IMMEDIATELY told me to expense it. honestly if i’d gotten here earlier i would have just done the swap for both nights but it is already after midnight so i’ll just have to make due. 

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Seeking Date Translation [CN]

Hey, everyone! Just a couple of things before you begin reading. I don’t actually know any Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate. A HUGE shout-out to @keliosyfan and @cheesy09 for helping me with edits and revising. Thank you!!! 💛

Here’s a link to the date video uploaded by @keliosyfan​ that you can follow along with.

 Also, here’s a link to the call that comes before the date.

*TW: I feel like I should note that this date has mentions of human trafficking.*

This translation contains spoilers for a date that has not yet been released to the ENG server. If you wish to not be spoiled, please don’t look below the cut. 

Hope you enjoy~ 💛

*Spoilers for future content below!*

[First Part]

??: What are you doing kidnapping her, idiot?! 

??: She has been with Helios for so many years, she must be his most important woman.

??: With this woman, we can make him write off his debts and also crush his spirit as a gift to those foreigners.

In the dimness, two male voices drifted into my ears.

My hands were tied behind me, and the rope bore through the cloth on my body. The rough and wet touch made me very uncomfortable.

??: If he really cared about this woman, would he always keep her by his side? Tell everyone that she is his weakness?

??: This woman is a target he bought four years ago to get rid of trash and see who in the city found him unpleasant!

Although I was very certain that these people were telling the truth, after hearing those words, my heart still couldn’t help but ache.

??: This is the end of the matter. This woman can’t stay.

??: Sooner or later, that beast Helios will know what you have done. He would never let us get away with it. *Changed some wording*

??: This person has just been taken away, and Helios won’t be so fast.

The icy sound of a knife unsheathing made me clench my teeth. My whole body shook.

The hemp rope had been cut with the blade hidden in my sleeve, and I waited for the opportunity as it gradually approached.

Even though I closed my eyes, I could always see that person’s face and a pair of indifferent blue eyes.

If I died, would he be sad? 

??: Hope... is the most precious thing in this world. 

??: Do you want to go with me?

I can’t die yet.

But just before I acted, someone ended up being faster than me.

With a “shink”, it seemed that a sharp weapon pierced the glass and embedded itself into the wooden board. The sudden noise made my heart constrict.

??: Don’t open your eyes.

After an extremely cold and commanding voice sounded, there were shrill screams. In the continuous plethora of sounds, there was the harsh sound of bones being twisted.

I closed my eyes and curled up tightly, worried that this was just a dream.

Until I was hugged in a strong and warm embrace, with the fragrance of smokey tobacco wrapping around me. 

I opened my eyes blankly and caught sight of the silver hair that was eye-catching and dazzling in the gloomy thatched house.

Those blue eyes, which were normally calm, were now mixed with a little anger.

MC: ...Am I dreaming?

Helios: Do you often dream of me? 

The man gave me a look, held me, and walked out the door. It seemed to be the warehouse of a wine shop.

(Cut to outside)

Suddenly his figure stopped, and I lowered my eyes to find that a man was holding onto his trousers tightly.

??: Mr. Helios, boss, please forgive us this time. We will soon have a big deal, and then we will be accommodated…. 

Helios: Is the restaurant I run like an orphanage?  

Helios: Repaying debts is justified.

He turned a deaf ear to the man’s pleading and the whispers from the bystanders. He moved his long legs, and the man fell to the ground.

At the same time, a group of people began to move in and out of the store.

MC: Should I first….

Helios: Don’t move. 

His voice sounded impatient. I blinked and didn’t speak anymore.

After the fight was over, Helios raised the corner of his mouth and gave a slight retort to the kneeling man.

Helios: Mr. Cao, you’re welcome to visit Spring Moon Pavillion next time. 

??: You foreign devil, don’t lie! Go to hell! 

The curse echoed behind us, and the sound of a solid, steady heartbeat fell upon my ears.

Here, people called him many things-- Mr. Helios, the boss, foreign devil. 

No one knew his origins. There was a rumour that seemed to say he was of mixed race.

Most of the restaurants, diners and pawn shops in the city were under his name, and there were many other shady places.

Countless people ate his meals, and countless people enjoyed his turf. They were his business partners, his subordinates, and his debtors.

He was the unspoken ruler of this city.

Everyone here respected him and feared him.

MC: Are you hurt?

I felt the person stepping forward seem to pause, but it was only momentarily.

Helios: No. 

I leaned into that somewhat cold embrace, and in my sorrow, it seemed to overlap with the heavy snow from four years ago.

[Second Part]

(Flashback)

I stretched my arms strenuously, trying to grab the flying photograph.

The man behind me tightened the chain on the back of my neck, leaving only the muddy photo in my blurred vision, which ended up crushed with shoe prints on the ground.

Like unforeseen freedom, it broke free, but also decayed. Like my freedom, slowly slipping away with each step.

The world was covered with a film and the insults behind me were drowned out, and only cold white noise remained.

Suddenly, a pair of delicate leather shoes stopped next to the photo, and someone picked it up in the next second.

I blinked slowly, and found an eye-catching and sharp silver light under the extremely gloomy sky.

It was like the first speck of snow that one would find stunning in the late winter, burning straight into people’s eyes, beautiful and cold.

The boy looked around the same age as me, and a pair of azure blue eyes met my own.

The biting cold caused my reaction to delay and another pair of distant and similar pupils appeared before my eyes.

But they were warmer and brighter.

??: Snap out of it!

When my consciousness was pulled back to reality by the pain, I heard screams that did not belong to me. The force that restrained me suddenly disappeared, and I fell directly to the ground.

I reluctantly raised my eyes and found that the silver-haired boy had come over at some point, twisting the man’s wrist with one hand. His gaze shifted from the photo in his hand to me.

??: Did you stay in the orphanage in the east of the city as a child? 

I looked at him dumbfoundedly and lost my voice for a moment.

??: Answer me.

MC: [flustered] ….Ye-yes! I stayed there for a year.

The boy’s eyes seemed to light up for a moment because of my answer, and then became alienated in the blink of an eye.

He threw the man aside, lowered his eyes and wiped off the mud from the photo with his white sleeves, then squatted down and handed it to me.

??: I’ll only ask once.

??: Come with me?

I stared at him in a daze, and the roaring from the outside world came to an abrupt end. Only the voice of the boy in front of me and my own heartbeat could be heard.

MC: Ok.

As soon as I spoke, the boy threw a few silver bills at the man.

The heavy snow fell silently, and I was taken into his arms, like a fragmented snowflake.

The blood, water and frost all mixed together, and I heard his voice in the dizziness.

??: Starting today, you are mine. 

??: My name is Helios.

??: But I don’t like this name, so don’t call me that.

MC: My name is MC….Then um….what should I call you?

His attitude left me a little perplexed.

Helios: If you have something to say, I will acknowledge it.

Helios: Is that photo important?

In the heavy snow on the quiet road, I lifted my head laboriously, trying to muster a smile.

MC: [smiling affectionately] Very important. He was my best friend in the orphanage and a big star in the city.

MC: Everyone loved to hear him sing. He never cared about who his audience was; he shined nonetheless. 

MC: It’s just… He went abroad six months ago, so he must be an even better person now.

The boy’s footsteps froze for a moment as if his feet were bound in ice and snow.

Helios: He’s just an actor. 

Helios: A useless profession.

MC: But….it was his smile that gave me strength.

Without him, I would not have been able to hold on till the day I met you.

(End of flashback)

I opened my eyes and turned my head to see Helios sitting on the sofa, casually reading the newspaper. As usual, he should be in the restaurant at this time.

Looking at his profile, the dream I had just now made me a little confused.

It turned out that I had stayed by his side for so long.

He took me back to the small restaurant, healed my injuries and taught me all kinds of things.

Literacy, singing, dancing, medical skills, business….

He was the most ruthless and sharp blade. I had witnessed how he, with his own power, had expanded this small restaurant to its current size in just a few years.

Helios: Get up and eat if you’re awake. 

The sudden words interrupted my thoughts. Helios didn’t look up as he slowly took a sip of tea from his teacup. Seeing him frown, I immediately got up from the bed.

The food had been arranged on the wooden table, the temperature just right; neither too hot nor too cold--

Obviously, the people who prepared this had carefully taken time into consideration.

I looked at the man sitting aside from the sidelines and saw the teacup he put aside. I was a little puzzled.

MC: Is that pot of tea not brewed?

Helios: It’s poisoned. 

Helios: Tastes terrible. 

I almost choked on the spring rolls in my mouth and sighed inwardly at his calm demeanour.

I went up to the cabinet, skillfully took out the bottle of medicine and poured out a pill. I walked up to him and handed it over.

Helios: I won’t die.

After hearing the expected answer, I picked up the pill and brought it to his mouth.

He didn’t open his mouth but stared at me coldly.

MC: You don’t need to stare at me. I’m not afraid of you.

With that said, I continued to pry open his mouth with the pill.

Probably moved by my fearlessness, his mouth finally opened slowly and swallowed the pill.

I smiled with satisfaction and when I turned around to continue enjoying my spring rolls, a pair of cool palms swept over my waist.

The incense stick burned quietly, and a small sigh and familiar body temperature covered me closely from behind.

Helios: Don’t you blame me for using you as bait? 

He closed his eyes. His long eyelashes were covered with sunlight and his brows were furrowed.

MC: You taught me that there is no meaningless business in this world.

MC: You bought me. My life is yours.

Helios: That’s the spirit. 

The person behind slowly opened his eyes, his pupils full of jest and scrutiny.

MC: Today I just wanted to go to the temple to ask for a peace charm like in previous years. 

MC: I was going to go there by myself, but I didn’t want to cause you trouble.

He probably didn’t believe me. Even so, I explained it word by word.

A cool finger stroked my neck and entangled a few strands of my hair.

Helios: How many years have you been with me?

His sudden question had me stunned for a moment.

MC: ….Three years and two hundred and seventy-five days.

Helios: It’s three years and two hundred and seventy-six days.* 

*This is a little Easter egg that @keliosyfan spotted.  “When Helios asked MC how long she has been with him, she says "3 years, 275 days" but he corrects her saying "3 years, 276 days". If you put the numbers together you get 3276 which in CN numeric slang means "love Qiluo(Kiro) for life" or "生爱棋洛"So in a way, he wants MC to say "I love Kiro for life"(3276/生爱棋洛). 🥺😭🤧”

Although his voice was faint, it was conclusive.

I thought about it and didn’t argue with him. For me, there was no difference between one more day and one less day.

Helios: Want to leave?

MC: ….?

He laughed suddenly, but only slightly mocking this time.

Helios: I can teach you enough to live a better life.

After that, he stood up. The sudden drop in temperature made me feel a little cold in this midsummer weather.

Helios: Since you want to leave, I won’t stop you.

Helios: But leave before the seventh day of July. 

[Third Part]

Helios left after saying this, leaving me alone in the room in a daze. 

Compared to his sudden expulsion, I was more concerned about another thing.

The seventh day of July.

What was going to happen on that day?

The annexed restaurants, and suppressed merchants….I know what Helios has been doing for several years.

Would my existence cause him any trouble?

I looked at my bare wrists and couldn’t help laughing at myself.

Maybe I was locked in place by a pair of invisible shackles.

I pursed my lips and walked to the closet to take out the bag hidden in its depths. Perhaps it was just my illusion, but it seemed to have been turned over by someone.

(Outside of room)

Outside the dark room, late at night, I tiptoed over with my bag. There were faint sounds of firm punching and kicking coming from inside the room. 

Helios stayed alone here every night, not letting anyone come close.

But this was my hidden secret, and I could secretly monopolize Helios at this moment.

As usual, I opened the window a crack.

In the room, Helios was half-naked, and the small old silver locket hung with silver bells, reflecting sharp lines of bright silver light in the cold moonlight.

His movements were swift and fierce, harder than usual as if he was venting out something.

His wet hair was weighed down, and sweat dripped slowly from his lower jaw and down his strong and undulating chest.

He stood at the junction of light and shadow, with most of his face hidden in the darkness.

The sound of cicadas in midsummer made people feel a little restless, and the silver locket on his chest heaved slightly as he panted hard.

Helios stood there and didn’t move. I don’t know what he was waiting for. *The music from the first Valentine’s Day event starts playing so it’s getting steamy 😏*

In the next second, those blue eyes passed through the window and were firmly locked on me.

MC: ….!

I instantly withdrew my head and squatted down.

Helios: ….Come in. 

Helios: I’ll only say it once. *Don’t need to tell me twice!! 😩😩 *

Hearing the slightly stiff tone, I stood up, lowered my head, and pushed the door open. I only took a single step in and then stopped.

Helios: I don’t see you this compliant on weekdays.

MC: ….You knew?! Then why did you never let me go before….

Helios: For my own pleasure. 

I suddenly raised my head and found that he had positioned himself right in front of me. His scorching body temperature seemed to be able to cross the distance between us and set me on fire.

MC: I-I didn’t come here today to take a peek, I just….

He lowered his eyes and his gaze flicked across the bag I was holding behind me. His smile melted into a bit of a smirk.

Helios: If you’re saying goodbye, you don’t...

MC: I want you to teach me some martial arts.

I held my breath and did not miss the momentary surprise that flashed through his eyes.

MC: What you taught me isn’t enough.

Helios looked at me condescendingly, his eyes dim. A breeze flitted past my ear as his hand smacked against the door frame behind me.

Helios: Not enough? 

In this tense atmosphere, I tried my best not to avoid his gaze.

MC: You taught me a lot, but….it felt like things had become even serious today.

MC: So I…. I still need you.

Before I finished speaking, Helios suddenly grabbed my left wrist from the outside and at the same time stretched out his leg to hook behind me. 

When I lost my balance, his left hand instantly reached out to support my waist, and his right hand came out from under my arm and clasped my wrist from the front again.

When I came back to my senses, I found that I had been directly pinned to the floor, and the bag in my hands had been tossed aside.

The entire movement was executed clean and smooth, and there was only the faint sound of the silver bell on the old silver locket swaying in the silent air.

Helios: There are many people who need me in this city. 

Helios: I can teach you. Want to learn?

He lowered his head slightly, and the old silver locket grazed my chest, which made me take in a sharp inhale. My entire heart and lungs seemed to be occupied by his breath.

I tried to lift up my wrists and lower limbs, but it wasn’t enough to shake off the person above me.

MC: In this bag is the money that I have saved over the past few years. The money you bought me for back then, plus four years’ worth of interest, will be given to you.

Helios: I’m not short on cash.

MC: If you accept the money, I won’t owe you anything, but I will still help you.

I tremblingly stroked the old silver locket on his chest. It carried his body temperature and made my fingertips hot.

It coincided with the seventh day of the seventh month of the first year we met. For the first time, I heard someone cursing him and wanting him to die.

I had cried and went to the temple to ask for a peace charm and an old silver locket. When I got home, I gave them to him together.

I knew that many people in this city hated him, but I wanted him to be safe.

He had just smiled sarcastically at the time, and I threw it away when he turned around. Who knew that I’d see it dangling on his chest here that night.

The silver bells chimed, just like my unstoppable heartbeat. 

MC: You still wear this old silver locket.

Helios: I forgot to remove it.

His hot breath fanned my face, entangling with my own breath in the scorching air.

My fingers followed the silver chain of the old silver locket and stroked his chest. I could clearly feel his taut muscles under my fingertips.

MC: There are many orphans like me in the restaurant.

MC: Those merchants who were suppressed by you could always open new shops.

MC: Underground, the losers will always be the bureaucrats who usually bully others and gain funds out of ill will. 

MC: I don’t know why you want to be a bad person in the eyes of the city, but what I see is different from others.

Helios: Ridiculous.

MC: This is what you taught me.

Looking at my smile, he snorted coldly, but the moonlight sneaking in illuminated the faint smile in his eyes.

Helios: You just said it wrong. 

He glanced at my bag and lowered his body even further.

Helios: Don’t owe me anything?

Helios: The three years and two hundred and seventy-six days with me were enough for you to repay me?

MC: [confused] You didn’t even see how much there is inside…. 

Helios: I’ve seen it.

He pulled slightly hard, making me stand up instantly.

Helios: You owe me too much. 

Helios: I’ll ask you to settle the tab later.

Helios: However, you do need to learn some self-defence skills.

Unlike his usual touch, his fingertips caressed my eyes, ears, nose and neck.

Helios: People have many weaknesses.

Helios: Eyes, ears, throat, heart…. *The way he said this sent shivers down my spine 😳🥵*  

As he whispered, his fingertips kept moving downwards, making me nervously hold onto that hand.

Helios: [more sexy whispering] What’s the matter? Don’t you want to learn? 

Helios: I gave you the chance to leave.

Helios: But you refused. 

[Fourth Part]

Helios implemented his teaching method, “diligently” teaching from the most basic style, which made me extremely embarrassed.

MC: [flustered] ….Can you put on some clothes next time? *MC, no!! What are you even asking?! You enjoy it and you know it! 🥵

Helios: I can wear what I like. 

Seeing the obvious teasing in his eyes, I ran away completely.

Finally, I asked him about what would happen on the seventh day of July, and his expression became a little solemn under the clear moonlight.

Gradually, I became even more sure that this was related to what he had done for so many years.

(Cut to store)

In the early morning of the seventh day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, a few foreigners in suits and arrogant expressions came to the store.

These people seemed to be a little unkind, and my heart felt uneasy.

Waiter: Miss MC, a guest of the boss, made a reservation at Spring Moon Pavillion.

MC: Let me take care of it.

With a smile, I went to the foreigners and led them to the booth. I didn’t expect that Helios would already be waiting there.

The moment he saw me, his brows lightly furrowed and he tilted his head slightly.

“Leave.”

I blinked and instantly understood what he meant. After the foreigners walked into the booth, they positioned themselves again at the door.

MC: Boss, your guests are here.

After that, I took a step back and then ridicule suddenly rang out.

??: Leaving already?

Unexpectedly, a foreigner walked over, grabbed my wrist and dragged me directly into the booth.

??: Helios, you must have misunderstood.

??: What is the meaning of a group of men when talking about business?

The foreigner smiled sarcastically. I restrained the urge to shoot and looked at Helios cautiously.

In the next second, an invisible cold front flew past my face, grazing the wrist of the foreigner and leaving behind a small, bloody wound. 

No one knew when he fired the shot, and Helios was still leaning on the sofa, lazily looking at the wailing foreigner. He made no effort to hide his coldness and murderous intent.

Helios: Next time, it’ll be your head. 

Helios: Come here.

I stood cautiously behind Helios, and saw a man in a white suit standing up with a feigned smile.

Foreigner: Just kidding. Don’t get upset, Helios.

Helios: Is that what you learned by spying on me every day?

My heart sank and I tried my best to calm my nerves.

Have these people been spying on him?

Foreigner: Don’t say that, we just need to confirm whether you are worthy of our cooperation.

Foreigner: After all, with this kind of business, ordinary people are not eligible to participate.

Foreigner: But….we also have to look at the sincerity of the boss.

His eyes moved from Helios to me with an arrogant smile.

Foreigner: I heard that you have a well-trained girl who is clever and easy to use. I wonder if you are willing to share?

I was shocked and couldn’t move. I waited quietly for Helios’ answer.

Helios: I can. 

The cicadas kept humming noisily, and for an instant, I seemed to be back to that moment from four years ago, when there was only haziness left in this world.

But I just blinked and walked respectfully from the back of the sofa to the foreigners.

It sounded like a serious matter. Maybe he wanted me to be an undercover agent for these foreigners?

Or maybe he just changed his mind again and didn’t need me anymore.

My vision became a little blurred.

Helios: Did you really think I would say that? 

Helios’ arms encircled me from behind. His familiar breath came over me, and his voice was filled with pure mockery.

Foreigner: Helios, what do you mean?

Helios: Your nonsense... will anyone still want it?

The foreigner was stunned as if he didn’t expect him to say that. But in the next second, his expression became fierce again.

Foreigner: So it was you who brought those people…!

In the horrified eyes of those foreigners, Helios’ smile became even more ruthless.

Helios: I’ve been tired of looking at the faces of you idiots for a long time now. 

Helios: I asked you to come today to settle the account.

At Helios’ signal, I slowly withdrew from the booth.

(Cut to lobby)

I didn’t know what would happen to them next, but maybe something would briefly end today.

I returned to the lobby and asked for the guestbook from the front desk. I wanted to distract myself but there was one face that was stuck in my mind.

Helios won’t get hurt, right?

Helios: ….MC.

Did I trouble him again just now?

Helios: MC.

An impatient sigh sounded in my ears and I felt my figure tilt, and in the next moment, I was trapped in someone’s arms.  

Helios: Didn’t you hear me calling you?

MC: Helios….!

Helios: I should’ve said that only you can’t call me by that name.

In this lighted corner, the ambiguous gazes of the other guests in the lobby wandered over to us.

MC: Did you just call me? Wait… Has your matter been resolved?

MC: And let me go first. Th-there are other guests here.

Helios: This is my restaurant.

His fingertips rested on the guestbook, and a faint chilly scent emanated from him.

Helios: Did you really think I would give you to those people just now?

MC: ….

He narrowed his eyes, his voice carrying with it some faint, dangerous warning.

MC: …. I didn’t.

Helios: You’re a terrible liar.

Helios: Why did you walk over?

MC: Because I believe in you. I know you have your reasons.

I couldn’t help holding onto his drooping lapels. At this moment, Helios seemed to reveal all those sharp edges and corners of his heart. 

There were only some unfamiliar ones left, which belonged to the insecurities of youth.

Helios: Ridiculous.

As he said this, he pulled me up and walked into the depths of the lobby.

MC: ….Sorry.

Helios: I’m talking about myself. 

I looked up in surprise and saw his slightly ironic expression.

Helios: They have a large munitions factory behind them.

His voice was indifferent, but what he said was like a time bomb, going off in my brain.

MC: Munitions factory?!

Helios: Those foreigners have been smuggling arms into the city.

Helios: I couldn’t find the buyers and sellers, but there was always a steady stream of arms that kept coming into the city.

Hearing this, I felt cold sweat ooze from my back.

I knew what the meaning was behind all of this.

I remembered the unfinished words under the hideous faces of those foreigners just now.

Helios had found those people now.

MC: Why…. are you telling me this?

Helios: Because I want to.

In the midst of my wildly racing heartbeat, his words were sure and firm, as if something seemed to be coming to light. 

MC: The merchants and bureaucrats that you suppressed were all related to this, right?

Helios’ silence secretly confirmed my suspicions, and my heart couldn’t help but race.

He always carried all the dangers by himself; walking alone in silence.

Why not ask other people for help?

Just as I was about to ask, I immediately thought of the answer.

With the continuous delivery of arms, both buyers and sellers were in the dark, and easy actions against them would only be a surprise.

Did he destroy those arms?

Helios: Strength and weapons are necessary. 

Helios: Those who really need it will use them to protect important things.

He said this matter of factly with determined eyes as if understanding what I was thinking in my heart.

We walked through the corridor of the hotel and came to the street from the side door.

The dusk was heavy, the red lanterns softly brightening the sights of the entire street, and it was full of liveliness.

The girls blushed as they cuddled up with their partners under the lights and the crescent silver moon.

Such a quiet night made my nose itch.

MC: If those goods were sold to the original sellers.

MC: What would tonight have been like?

I turned my face to look at Helios by my side. The warm yellow lights shone on the side of his stern face. He didn’t say a word, probably accepting something reluctantly.

MC: What you said about this world… What do you think it will look like in the future?

Helios: There is only brief peace at the moment. 

Helios: But suffering will bloom into a flower. (Sidenote: what he means to say is "no pain, no gain." It's one of Kiro's character themes :>)

He raised his head slightly, and the cold moonlight reflected in his blue eyes, like the sea under the moon. 

Silent and immense, as if it could contain everything.

Seeing him like this reminded me of those distant eyes.

In a ghostly manner, I took out the crumpled old photo from my purse and held it beside his face.

Helios: Why do you carry this person’s picture with you everywhere?

MC: [smiling affectionately] Because he is special to me.

Helios: And yet you still follow me?

MC: This is different.

Looking at his teasing smile, I snorted at him and looked at the boy in the photo with a warm smile.

MC: You said that when technology advances in the future, this photo will definitely become the colour in my memory.

Under the blue sky, the blond boy was like a passionate golden sun under the eyes of the crowd.

He smiled and seemed to be able to become a source of invincible courage.

He could gather endless amounts of enthusiasm as long as he stood there.

His voice turned into notes and tunes, dancing along with the wind, driving some of the darkness away.

In this devastated generation, he was like a burning flame.

Kiro: I’m Kiro. 

Kiro: Thank you for listening to my song. 

Helios looked at the yellowed black and white photo, looking a bit dazed for a while, and a little lonely.

Helios: No one in this city remembers him anymore. 

MC: I still remember.

MC: Even if the whole world doesn’t, I will remember him.

In those turbulent years, I had always remembered the embers left behind by that meteor.

Once, there was a young man named Kiro who helped me through countless dark and dull times with a smile.

Until the day I met Helios. I gained the strength to live again from this person.

MC: I think you are very similar.

MC: Although your methods are different, you are both using your own strength to illuminate and empower others.

Helios’ pupils contracted unconsciously, and became deeper with my words.

The slowly rising paper lanterns glowed with a gentle light, quietly surrounding us, like a tender embrace.

Helios: You haven’t asked for this year’s peace charm.

Hearing what he said, I suddenly remembered that because of the previous kidnapping, I couldn’t find a peace charm.

MC: Seeing your attitude before, I thought that there was something that was making you anxious, so I kept following you.

Helios: What attitude?

MC: You said I should leave before the seventh day of July. I asked you about it later, but you didn’t say anything. Wasn’t it about that serious matter?

Hearing my question, Helios froze for a moment and then turned his face to the side, his earlobes slowly turning red.

MC: Was that not what it meant?

Helios: …. 

He pursed his mouth and the lights shone behind him like a splendid landscape painting.

Helios: Because “weakness” really does become a weakness.

MC: Huh?

Helios: You are the only person here who wants me to be safe and live a long life.

Helios: I was reluctant to wait until the Qixi Festival this year.

Helios: Although, I don’t understand why you would want to wish for peace during the Qixi Festival.

My heart was beating fast, and seeing Helios’ face turned to the side, I found his eyes to be brighter than the stars.

MC: [blushing] Because, because I just happened to run into you at that time. *Changed some wording*

MC: And if it’s the New Year, the wishes would all pile up on top of each other, and God won’t be able to hear them.

MC: During the Qixi Festival, maybe God is used to hearing the wishes for marriage, so he can hear my request for peace without needing it to unheard.

Helios: Then today, in addition to asking for peace, you can also wish for marriage.

Helios smiled slightly with some clarity and sincerity.

MC: ….In that case, a name is needed.

MC: But you never let me call you by this name.

I held my breath nervously and saw his face slowly leaning towards me. I didn’t mind the attention around me, and his breath slowly entangled with mine. 

Helios: Let me see.

His protracted tone was a bit tempting and bewitching as if it had lost a thick shell; more naked and intimate than usual, and finally landed on my lips.

Helios: Ki-Ro. 

Helios: Please use that name.

End

 You can find the call that comes after this date here!

[sherrybaby14]

All the Same

This is for the wonderful @lancsnerd​ 1K challenge (Sorry I am so late)!

Pairing:  Geralt x female reader

Warnings:  Domestic Violence, Smut, Angst, Violence, Blood

Words: 6k

Prompt:  “I was your assignment, and then you fell in love with me”. (Changed it a little)

Summary:  The Witcher is coming to your village and you have been tasked with finding out why.

   The drunkard on the piano was playing the same song he did every night and you rolled your eyes as you filled another pitcher of lager.  

   Some nights you wished more than anything you got moved off the graveyard shift, but others you were grateful the drunks would leave soon and your time at work would consist of watching the empty bar.  

   “Best to keep an eye out tonight.”  Your boss leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.  

   “Why’s that?”  You glanced to the dagger kept underneath the bar.  

   “Word is, a Witcher is on the road. Stopping here.”  He flung the rag over his shoulder.

   “Here?”  You about overfilled the pitcher.  “In our tiny village?  Why?”

   “That’s what I want to know.”  He glanced across the barroom, watching the dwindling crowd.  “Find out for me, would ya Love?”

   “Not my job Sir.”  You had never met a Witcher, but your heart raced at the idea.

   “How about now?”  Your boss tossed a bag of coin next to you.  “Still trying to get on your feet aren't ya? I’ll double it if you give me anything worth my while.”

   You did not hesitate as you picked up the bag and shoved it in your pocket.  A pang of guilt hit your heart, you were no spy, but were desperate.  You needed to get back on your feet.  Besides, this was the first bonus your boss had ever offered.

   “Consider me hired.”  You turned to drop off the pitcher, the customer closing out their tab.  

   The piano player abandoned the instrument and you could tell the mood had shifted.

   “Witchers are bad for business.”  Your boss kicked off the door and went to the kitchen.  “I want him gone.”  

   “Monsters are worse.”  Of course the idea of a monster in this town was silly, the only one who lived here was your ex.

~~

   The crowd was gone by one.  It was strange, you were used to forcing people to their rooms around two, this was the earliest you could remember the place being empty.

   You picked up your current book and tried to read, but every thought went to your boss’ warning.  Why would a Witcher come here?  You hadn’t heard a single rumor of anything off.  Maybe he was passing through?  If memory served you right there was a sheep slaughtered a few weeks ago.  People said it was a wolf, but maybe more, would a Witcher come for that though?  

   The door opened and your breath caught in your throat.  There he was, pale skin with pale hair that stood out against the vibrant oranges of the wooden walls dancing with firelight.  

   You shook your head and shut your mouth, trying not to show your awe for the man.  

   The mug you grabbed shook as you turned and poured him some mead.  

   “I heard you were coming.”  You spun back around and set the drink on the counter.  

   “You did?”  He blinked in confusion and glanced around the empty room.

   “Oh, I’m not a psychic or anything.” You gave a nervous laugh.  “My boss, he told me.  He said you were coming here though and I never asked how he knew that part.  It’s been bothering me all night.”  

   The man walked slow, his eyes taking in everything.  You cringed as you grabbed a smaller glass and poured yourself a bit of wine, hoping to drown your embarrassment.  

   “I am sorry.  I should not have been so forward.”  You smiled as you drank it down.  “I should have played it much more smooth.  May I start over?”

   “Please.”  The man grabbed the handle of his sword and you turned around, half expecting a vicious beast behind you. “Now it is my turn to apologize.”

   You looked back to him as he let go of the handle, holding his hands in the air.  

   “I am not used to hospitality.”  He pulled out the chair and had a seat.  “This is most unusual.”  

   “You are most welcome here.”  You poured another shot of wine and took it down.  “So, did my superior mean here as in this bar or here as in the town?  I mean, we are the only bar in the town and it is no secret Witchers like to indulge, but there is a much nicer inn not far from here, but we do have a few rooms if you would like to stay the night?  All are vacant, we are not frequented, occasionally a drunkard needs a spot for a few hours, our rates are reasonable but for you it will be gratis of course and have I mentioned I babble when nervous?”  

   Worst spy ever.  You grabbed the bottle of red and brought it to your lips, this time taking a chug as the Witcher smiled.  

   A warmth spread through you at the sight.  A Witcher smiling.  You never knew such a thing was possible.  

   “I am not sure what your supervisor was aware of, but it’s no secret Witchers indulge?”  He picked up the mug in front of him and looked inside, his eyes wide as if he were studying.  

   “My father, he used to tell tales of fairies and dragons and warlocks and vampires.”  Your eyes flashed as you pictured his face.  “And Witchers too.”  

   “Did he tell you how we strike down the wicked? Or how we are sell swords?”  The Witcher took a drink and then brought the mug away from his face, staring at what you poured him with shock.  

   “He told me how easy it would be to poison your drinks.”  You smiled but the man almost fell out of his chair as you burst out laughing.

   You clapped as he grabbed for his sword handle, hesitating as you grinned at him.  Then he relaxed in his seat as his eyes looked over your face.  

   “I am sure you have far better insight into a Witcher than my father, enlighten my poor soul?”  When you sat down the coin in your pocket jingled, reminding you of your mission for the night.  There was no harm in getting to know the man in the process though.

~~

   “I have not spoken as many words this night as I have all of the past year.”  Geralt’s eyes continued to dance on your face.  

   It would have been easy to shy under his gaze, but as the dawn grew near your mind was being tugged elsewhere.  

   “Does the sun rising bother you?”  His brows furrowed.  

   “Not in the slightest.” In fact, you frowned, wishing you were just waking up instead of readying for bed.  “I would give anything to not sleep in a tiny bed upstairs, not work overnights at a place where the bulk of my wages go to room and board.  I am saving up.  This is temporary.”  

   “Then why do you keep glancing at the door?”  Geralt shifted, you watched his hand shift toward his weapon once again, but this time he did not come close to grabbing it.  

   “Fell in with a bad lad.” You shook your head.  “Controlling type.  He works overnights as well.  Only I am off at eight and he is off at six.  I expect him any second.  He will sit down, beg for me to come home, lament about his problems, like I give a fuck.  It’s been almost a year since we split, or should I say since he split my head open and I had the common sense to leave him.”  

   Tears started to form, but you blinked them away.  

   “Whatever monster you are here to kill.  I hope it is him.”  You smiled at your joke, hoping to break the tension, but Geralt didn’t find any humor in your statement.  

   Now the air grew thick between the two of you, all the good will and fun turned to awkwardness.  

   “What are you here to kill by the way?”  The subject needed to be changed.  “A banshee? A ghoul? A Bailisk?”  

   “Your father taught you well about the supernatural.”  Geralt swirled his drink.  “He must have been well researched.”

   “Right after he died, I wanted him back.  I was broken.  He was all I ever knew.”  This time you let a tear fall.  “I even tried to find a Witcher or a Mage or anything.  But his books, the legends he told me, they all said the same thing.  The dead,  even if they do come back, they can’t understand the living anyway.”

   “Very well researched.” Geralt grunted.  

   The door opened and relief flooded your body as the opening bartender walked in.  

   “Well, my shift is over. Kolly is here.  I am sure she can keep your attention.”  You stood up and wiped your tear.  “Unless you have changed your mind and want a room?”

   Your coworker’s eyes went wide as she looked at the only patron.   You were sure she was as shocked as you were not to walk in on your ex sitting there.  

   “Where do you sleep?”  Geralt rose from his stool.  

   Kolly stopped walking and glared at you. As immoral of a question it was your body heat flared and you clenched your thighs at the thought.  The last you wanted was rumors flying around the town.  

   “I sleep alone.”  You gave Kolly a side glance and she nodded in approval before walking into the kitchen.  “But thank you for the company, though my boss will be disappointed.”  

   “Why is that?”  Geralt narrowed his eyes.

   “Well, you were my assignment.”  It didn’t feel right to lie.  “Find out why you are here, but after our night I believe I am more likely to fall in love with you than deceive you.”

   The same smile you caught earlier washed over his face.  This was the first time since Robert you’d felt any connection with another person.

   “Tell your boss,  I am passing through, there is wraith in Sehalsberg, but given the warm reception I received I will return for the hospitality.”  Geralt’s eyes focused on you again.  

   The way he looked at you fluttered your stomach, how you wished Kolly was not here to judge.  

   “Goodnight then.  I hope you return soon.”  You tried to hide the smile as you turned and walked to the stairs, feeling his eyes on your back as you headed to your small room.  

~~

“That’s it?”  Your boss scoffed.  “Passing through?  And how much free mead did you give the man?”

”I...I was trying to get information.”  You should have known better than to think your boss was going to pay you a dime.

“Well, that will be coming out of your wages.”  He shook his head.  “Plus I heard Mister and the boys did not arrive in the morning, you know how much coin they drop here! Sometimes I swear it's the only reason I keep you on.”

All the frustration you were feeling you bit down.  You needed this job.  So you nodded.

“Kick you out on the street.”  He threw his hands in the air.  “A Witcher, passing through.”

~~

The bar emptied out at the normal time.  You kept the fires going, trying to read your book and hoping Geralt would stop in again, memories of your night before making you smile non stop.  

But as the hours went on your heart broke more and more.  You told yourself it was unreasonable to think he would be back the next night.  Then when the door opened and your ex stepped inside with his group of coworkers your heart shattered.  

His eyes locked with yours and there was a fury as he strolled up to you.  

“What did you say to him?”

You moved back against the bar, but he reached out and grabbed the hair above your ear yanking you forward.

“You know I love you?  Why would you betray me?”  

As you tried to twist away he slammed your head down against the bar.  Monster.  You should have made that clearer to Geralt.  Then maybe he would have saved you.  

~~

   There was no warning from your boss, no rumors.  But you had not forgotten of Geralt. Months had past, but when the doors opened at two in the morning one night and he walked in your heart went a flutter.  

   “Passing through?”  This time the shake was worse.  You had played this conversation out over and over in your head.  “There cannot be a second monster in a nearby town.”

   “I never caught the first.”  Geralt sat down, making no attempts for his sword.  “I thought you might have forgotten me.”

   “A girl never forgets her first Witcher.”  You poured him a jug of mead.  “Now please, tell me where you have been.  What you have seen.”

   “I would rather hear about you.”  He took a drink without looking.  “Tell me, has your monster returned?”  

   Your chest struggled to breath.  Now was your chance to ask what you had been hoping for.

   “Every day since the last you were here.”  This was not how you practiced.  “He was violent once, nobody cared.”  

   Geralt stood and you ran around the bar to him, this stranger from one night.  You broke down against his chest, sobbing.  His arms came around you, his body stiff.  

   “There’s no comfort in you.”  You pushed off of him, glaring up.  

   “What?”  He looked surprised.  

   “I can feel it.”  You put your arms to his chest, palms against his leather top.  “You don’t care either.  I am trapped here.”

   “Untrue.”  Geralt pulled you back, cradled you.  Then you felt it, his stiffness relax, his hands pulling you tighter, rubbing your back.  “I care more than you know.”  

   “I think about you.”  Shame and embarrassment over your confession vanished.  “Just one night talking and I think about you non-stop.  I wonder where you are, how you are feeling, what mundane tasks you must be doing.  Curious why you have cast such a spell on me.”  

   Geralt’s hands found your shoulders and pushed you back.  He gazed at you with the studying look that should have made you melt, but his eyes would not stay still.  

   You tried to focus on what he was looking at when he pulled you closer, upwards and his lips crashed into yours.  Heat seeped into your veins.  A burning as your mouth opened and his tongue drove inside.  

   You drank him down.  Shuddering against his chest as you attempted to keep up.  The warmth turning to a burn as you kissed him back, your brain going dizzy as all the liquid in your body gathered between your legs.  

   Just as you started to give in, the feeling vanished.  Your eyes blinked several times, seeing the warm hues from the room and the greys from him turn into one.   His purple eyes were aflame.   His chest moving faster than your own as he struggled for breath.  

   “What’s wrong?”  Every problem in your orbit had vanished with that kiss.  

   Anger returned your gaze as Geralt let go of you and vanished out of the bar.  You wanted to follow but were too stunned.

   You hunched over and your struggle for air turned into tears.  What were you thinking?  A Witcher would never be your savior.  You were doomed.  

~~

   It was hard to tell the passage of time.  Your savings depleted with every broken glass.   You were beginning to think your boss and your ex were in on this together, keeping you trapped here.  

   Memories of your one night with Geralt kept you going.  But then you remembered the second night, the kiss and look of disgust on his face.  Witchers could not fall in love.  And who fell in love with anyone after one night?  Oh, that’s right.  You did.

   “Best to keep an eye out tonight.”  Your boss leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.  

   “Why’s that?”  You remembered the last time you heard this.

   “Word is, a Witcher is on the road. Stopping here.”  He flung the rag over his shoulder.

   “He won’t stop here.”  You knew the hospitality ran out.

   “Find out why he is here.”  Your boss flung a bag of coin at you.  “More when you get the reason?”  

   It couldn’t have been that long ago that Geralt was here.  You looked up at him with confusion.

   “Witchers are bad for business.”  He kicked off the wall and walked away.  

   Much like the last time you had this conversation, the bar began to empty.  A weird echo ran down your spine, but you brought your fingers to your lips and felt the tingle.  This time a pit formed in your stomach as you never expected to see Geralt again.

~~

   The last patron left and you started to wipe down the counters, thinking of reasons to lock the door.  Sure your boss would find out and then slash your earnings, but that happened anyway.  You had confessed your feelings to a Witcher on the second time you saw him.  Why would he come back anyway?  To torture you?  

   You sighed and went to close up early, not caring if you got fired.  But before you rounded the bar the door opened.  

   Pale hair.  Pale skin.  A different face looked up at you.  Not Geralt.  

   The man drew his sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.  

   “There is no need for those weapons.”  You went back to the bar.  “Can I offer you something to drink?  I promise you have nothing to fear here.  We welcome Witchers.”  

   “You…..what?”  The man looked at you and then stalked into the kitchen.

   “That’s not a public area…” You followed behind him, but he spun and moved into a defensive stance.  “I am sorry.  Please, do what needs to be done.”

   You thought about Geralt’s first night, how he kept going for his sword.  Cautious, hesitant.  This must have been normal.  Inspecting for enemies.  

   Without thinking you poured him and yourself a drink.  Visions of your kiss with the previous Witcher tried to dash in front of your eyes, but you pushed them away.   Should you bring up his name?  Ask where he was?  Where he had been?  What he was thinking about?  Had he mentioned you? Is that why the new one was here?  

   But before your nervousness made you blab he came out of the kitchen.  His eyes and stance toward you as he circled the bar.  

   “I poured you a drink.  Please,  sit and relax.”  You took your own and slammed it back.  

   “How odd.” He looked at your face with the same scrutiny as Geralt, studying and curious, but there was no spark.  It was more like he glared as if you were a dead animal he was attempting to dissect. “Where is your crypt?”

   “Crypt?”  You gave a nervous laugh.  “We are a bar with a few spare rooms upstairs.  No crypt.”

“Take me to your room.”  The man pointed the dagger at you.

You stared at him with your mouth open, unsure what the threat was or his intentions.

“Do you know Geralt?  He is a Witcher who has passed through here.  Are you looking for him?  He has not been here in ages, but he mentioned a monster a few towns over.”  You started to back up against the mugs, but the Witcher spun behind the bar, turning you with his sword and dagger out until you were in the open area.  “This must be a misunderstanding.”  

“These are pure silver.”  His eyes flashed with anger.  “Do not think of trying anything smart.  Now take me to your resting place.”  

“They look lovely, I can tell the fine craftsmanship.”  You tried to hide your nerves, and remembered what a gentleman Geralt was.  “A lady’s bedroom is no place for an uninvited man.”

“NOW!” His voice roared as he lunged forward.  

“ALRIGHT!”  You jumped back.  “Please don’t hurt me and put those things away.”

All the fear you had been bottling since the man walked in came rushing forward.  Your instincts took over and you ran to the front door.  He dropped his sword and reached out, grabbing your shoulder, and spinning you to face him.

“I can touch you.”  His face was featureless as he recoiled his hand with a look of horror.

“Not tonight.”  You slapped him across the face as hard as possible before turning to run again.  

You didn’t make it three steps before he shoved you forward, your knees hit the hardwood with a clunk as your body bounced.  

“STOP!”  You kicked at him as he dropped down on top of you, the weight of him heavy as he flipped you over.  

You struggled while he straddled you pinning you down.   You continued to claw, bite, kick, whatever you could.  The dagger was still in his hand when a slice sounded through the air.  

An inhuman scream left your lips as your arm flooded with white hot pain.  You vision began to blacken as your chest heaved.  It felt as if your arm was starting to rot off from the inside.  You cried and winced, unable to gasp for air.  

The Witcher let go of your hands and you cradled your arm.  Confused as to how this could hurt that badly.  

“I am sending you back to where you belong.”  He lifted the dagger high in the air.  

Your head rolled as if an infection was spreading, your brain and muscles oozing with hurt.  You shut your eyes and opened them again.  The warm orange against the brown wood was gone.  You saw grey and decay.  Spiderwebs and a rundown bar.

“What?”  You pinched your eyes shut, thinking it was a fever dream.  “Have you poisoned me?  What treachery is this?”

The bar you spent each night cleaning was covered in dust and mildew.  There was a broken beam in the ceiling and a hole in the roof.   Your head lulled back at the piano.  

“Someone was playing that all night.”  You didn’t undrestand, the beautiful polished keys were missing, chipped.  Strings were hanging out the top.  “What is happening?”

“You will haunt this place no more you evil beast.”  The Witcher puffed his chest and raised the dagger even higher.  

“NO!”  You braced yourself, shielding your body with your arms.  

“SHES’S NOT EVIL!”  Geralt’s voice filled the room.  

“Geralt….?”  You tried to twist and look at him, but your eyes couldn’t focus.  “What is happening to me?”  

“Have you forgotten your creed?”  The weight on your hips lifted as you rolled on the floor. “She must be destroyed.”  

“Have you forgotten yours?”  The sound of a sword being drawn echoed and you looked up at the moonlight, seeing the rotted bannister to the upstairs.  “We don’t kill innocents.”

“Innocent?”  The other Witcher scoffed.  “She killed Robert Blanton.  The son of the man who hired us!”

“She is stuck in a time loop.  She does not know what she is.”  Geralt’s voice began to fade.  “How is that her fault?”  

“So you want to what?  Save her?”  The stranger laughed.  “You are insane.”  

“I won’t let you kill her.”  Geralt grunted as he stepped over you.

“She is already dead.”  The man let out a roar and you heard the clashes of blades.  

“Dead?” It came out as a whimper and you rolled on to your side.

The sounds of the men fighting faded away as you lifted your hand.  The flesh looked real, the color the same it had always been, but then you caught sight of the wound.  The scratch from the dagger was spreading decay.  You could see your bone as the skin pulled away, as if you were struck with fire that would not burn out.  

“MmMmmpph!”  You looked up and spotted a man on his side, bound and gagged.

There were tears running down his cheeks, he was older, you would guess at least sixties, he was bald with a white beard, nothing but fear in his eyes.  Those eyes.  

“That’s the monster you are after.”  Geralt’s voice came back.  “He did this to her.  He is responsible for Robert Blanton’s death.”  

“Stander?”  It was him, your ex who taunted you every morning, who hurt you physically and mentally, but he was so much older even though you just saw him that day.  

“He is a human being.” The other Witcher laughed.  “We do not kill humans.”

“You are correct.”  The banging of the sword continued until you heard a grunt and a slice followed by a gasp.  “We kill monsters.”  

There was a groan and a thud against the floor.  Everything hurt.  

“Are you alright?”  Geralt came to your side and pulled you close.  “It’s over.  I’m going to take you from here.”  

With a swirl, everything clicked.  Time loop, two Witchers, Robert being dead.  The way your boss was so mechanical, the way every day felt the same.

“I was your assignment.”  You reached up and cupped his face.  “But you fell in love.”  

   Geralt’s eyes flashed in the moonlight.  He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut his lips.  You pinched your eyes shut as your chest started to shake.  

   “No...no...I won’t let you die.”  He set your head on the ground.

   “Fix her.”  Geralt stomped over to Stander and kicked him in the gut.  “Fix her and I will spare your life.”  

   The objection hung on your lips.  You were ready to cross over, but before you could get the word out consciousness left.  If you had to leave, at least it was being loved.

~~

   The bustling of the dinner crowd woke you up.  You had more of a headache tonight than you’d had in months.  Nothing you could do about it now.  You took a drink of water from your bed stand and then readied for work.  

   When you walked out of your room you ignored the crowd and smiled, a vision of Geralt in your head.  Of course it turned into a frown, remembering the kiss.  You were destined to be alone.  

   “Good evening.”  The voice echoed across the crowd as you made your way downstairs.  

   Your heart wanted to leap out of its chest at the familiar voice.  You locked eyes with the Witcher and the headache intensified.  

   The colors and sounds of the bar started to blur.  You shut your lids to take the flashes out and sat on the stairs.  The noises flared and your headache intensified.

   “Hey.”  A warm hand touched your knee.  “It will be alright.”  

   The background noises left and you looked up with a shake to see your Witcher standing in front of you.  

   “What?”  The bar was dilapidated, dust and holes and rotted wood.  

   Memories came crashing back.  The second Witcher, Stander.  

   “What am I?”  It felt like all the air was sucked out of your lungs as you looked to your arm.  There was no scar, but the searing hot pain echoed in your bones.  “Am I dead?”

   “In a sense.”  Geralt’s finger came under your chin.  “Twenty five years ago, you were murdered here.  Your killer could not let you go.  With the help of a Mage he trapped your spirit in this, a fake recreation of your body.

   “He sets you with a time loop, you can break through and when that happens he murders you again and resets.  It makes you see things that aren’t there.  But some memories don’t get erased.”

   “Like you?”  You looked around in the moonlight.  “My boss?”

   “After your murder, he let the business go into shambles.  Everyone in the village knew who the killer was, but nobody would speak up.  It was the perfect spot to reset you. Some of the things he said, knowing they would be erased did not.  That’s how the image of your boss knew I was coming.”  Geralt hid nothing.  “Stander was the only one who set foot in here over the years until…”

   “Until Robert.”  You gasped.  

   Memories that had been lost came forward.  The way he walked in, shocked to see you.  The way he kept coming back, how you looked forward to it.  Then the one kiss and he was gone.

   “I killed him?”  You thought of the heat from your kiss with Geralt.  “I drain the life force with my touch.”

   “Not your touch.”   Geralt ran his fingers over your lips, it sounded like an echo of sorrow spread across the bar.  “The murderer showed me the spell, I brought you back one final time.  Silver will destroy you. Once it spreads to your heart you will be free.”  

   Geralt set a dagger on the step next to you.  You looked at the metal, the thought of crossing over.  

   “So am I gollum?”  You didn’t look away.  “An unnatural recreation, do I even have a soul?”

   “You are a soul.”  Geralt gave a squeeze to your knee.  “But you can cross over now.  Be with your father.”  

   “And what if I am not ready?”  You looked at him.  “Am I trapped here?  Tethered?  It feels like months, but its been years?”  

   “Tethered to this realm yes, but not this place.”  Geralt bit his lip.  “You are free to leave, just did not know you had the option.”

   “The fake time loop.”  You glanced at the door, never thinking of walking through it because every night had felt like an average night at work.  All the years you had wasted.  When you could have walked away.

   A creak in the floor made both of your heads snap.  There was Stander, tied to a chair.

   “I promised I would spare his life in exchange for the spell.”  Geralt stood.  “I am a man of my word.  I thought you might want the final one with him.”  

   The final word.   Dragging your killer, your tormenter to the bowels of hell.  It was tempting.  

   “I need more than a word.”  You stood up from the stairs and took a brief pace.  “I think my former lover needs a kiss goodnight.”

   You ripped off the cloth bound over his mouth and he let out a scream as you pushed your lips to his.   It was slow, not the burning passion you felt with Geralt.  But the heat intensified as your lips pressed to his.  You gripped his cheeks, holding his head in place while you felt his life source draining into you.

   The heat turned into a scorch, but unlike your arm the night before it was pleasant.  You wanted that burn.  He tried to scream, but it was muffled by your lips as his body began to jerk.   You sucked in air and pulled away, taking him with you, your body glowing with warmth as his corpse twisted into the chair.  

   “I promised nothing.”  You wiped your lips as pure energy ran through your veins and you turned to Geralt.  “Tell me, am I a monster now?”  

   “No.”  Geralt walked forward.  

   “And was I a monster for killing Robert?”  You pushed your shoulders back.

   “No.”  Geralt took another step.

   “And if I kill again,  will that make me a monster?”  You swallowed.

   “Not if they deserve it.”  Geralt came closer.

   “And if they do not?”  You reached out and grabbed his hand.  “Will you end me?”  

   He hesitated, his lips trying to think of the words.

   “I do not believe that day will come.”  His hand moved to your waist and he brought you closer.  “I saw you, that first night.  You will never be a monster.”

   “But if it does, do I have your word that you will kill me?”  You tilted your chin and looked him in the eye, watching his iris swirl.  

   “No.”  His lips dropped to your neck as you let out a moan and clawed at his back.  

   He sucked and nipped as he guided you until your back hit the bar.   You dropped your head and kissed his cheek as your fingers found the hem of his shirt.  You untucked the garment from his pants and tugged it upward.  He pulled away and stripped the top off before crashing back against you, guiding your legs to spread.  

   Strong hands gripped your bottom and guided you on to the bar.  You gathered your skirts and spread your legs, baring yourself to him.  

   Both of your fingers went to his trousers and undid the lacing.  His cock sprung free and your chest heaved with excitement.  How long had it been?  Who was your last?  Was there ever a first?  Not with this body.  

   Geralt ran the tip of his cock up your slit, you were soaked and ready for him.  He lined up and you gripped his shoulder.  

   “Ah!”  Your head fell back as he pushed inside of you.  The pain made your thighs shake as your head fell against his shoulder.  “It hurts.  Too much.”  

   He stilled and with gasped breaths looked at you, steadying himself.  You could feel him pulsing inside of you.  

   “This body, whatever it is, it’s new.”  You brought your hand to the back of his neck.  “I want to kiss you.”  

   His fingers traced down your cheek and he bit his lips as he shook his head.  With shut eyes you leaned against him and nodded. Then brought your lips to his collarbone and began to make your mark.  

   Geralt followed your lead, pulling out a bit before diving back in, bracing himself against the bar with one hand, the other digging into your hip.  

   Each stroke replaced the pain with pleasure.  Your winces turned into coos that turned into moans.  

   A rhythm formed as you lifted your hips, welcoming him inside of your.  The movements hit your core and you felt yourself tense.  

   “Too much?”  He kissed your head as his hand ran up the back of you neck.

   “Not enough.”  You started rocking faster.  “Please, go, go.”  

   Your fingers wound in his hair as he honored your request.  The tightness in your chest spread to the apex between your legs and you ground down harder.   Geralt picked up his pace and your vision began to blur.  

   You fisted his hair and yanked as your release came over you, pleasure filling your body, no your soul as the cry left your mouth.  

   He followed you into the oblivion.  Filling you with his seed in the process.  Both of you started to kiss each other’s necks, moving up the cheeks until you were almost at the lips.  

   Foreheads dipped and you pressed them together.  A few times you saw him go to pucker, but pull away.  There would never be a real kiss between you.  

   You stayed like that for a moment.  Both of you gathering your bearings.  When he slipped from you, you almost collapsed, but his hand stayed on your hip.  

   “We need to leave.”  Geralt tucked himself away and picked up his shirt.  “There is a dead Witcher and a dead villager.”  

   “To hunt monsters?”  You stood up from the bar, your legs shaking.  “That is my life now?”

   You looked at the door, ready to venture into the world.

   “Not your life.”  Geralt smiled.  “Never forget,  you’re already dead.”  

   You stared at him before a big grin crossed your face.  

   “And you love me all the same.”  

A/N:  Thank you for reading!! I so appreciate every comment and like!  

[moved-to-void-kissed]

Of Rubies and Sapphires

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MXlNYYIQPVEeOXwsWuA4WIQ6E-LPJ-Z1BYljZbqlfuM/edit?usp=sharing

Trapped by the shadow brought to life by a magical mirror as she wanders the realm of darkness, Aria is forced to finally reconcile with the other aspect of “herself”, once assumed to have been devoured by the dark. (1656 words) My piece written for Our Canon Now! 2020, a self-insert zine created by ginari and shirorabu.

Tag list (joinable via this link!): @softskiesahead | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @lilacslovers | @lux-has-too-many-fos | @beeon | @insomniaships | @setzale​ | @candyforthebrain​ | @rixbar | @elf-and-a-heart

This was my contribution to the self-insert zine created at the end of last year! I was really happy to be able to take part in such a great project, especially since it let me write out this scene between Aria and Ves. I also created an MMD render to portray a specific part, so.. I’ll have to see if I can find that, too!

Reblogs are appreciated but not by any means required - I also highly recommend going and checking out all the other wonderful art and writing in the zine!! As always, there’s a transcript of the doc under the readmore, too~ 

 I spoke aloud to myself as I stood before a tall oval mirror, coldly ornate with a rim of decorative gold. Dotted about the design were a series of red and blue gemstones, well-crafted in spite of their current neglect. The glass itself was smooth and clear, but obscured by a film of dust and dirt, so that the details reflected were hazy. A shame, really - for the backdrop it faced was a sea of glittering fragments, suspended in the air for as far as the eye could see. This was the shadow of a sky, and I appeared to have found my way to an open-air gallery. Here and there, sparkling shards shone a thousand colours in the flickering lights of the torch fires, subtly shimmering as flames flickered and glowed. Behind all of these lay the purest black of darkness - the fabric which held this entire realm together, ripped raw to expose itself wholly.

 I was no stranger to this endless abyss; in fact, it made a welcome change to have something so bright and yet piercingly empty stand before it. A useless curtain, if it were meant for obscuring - but the glittering glass still reminded me of the stars I had not seen for so long. Now though, afraid of where my mind would take me if I dwelled on such matters for too long - and wanting to discern what was actually happening - I turned back again to face the wall where the mirror hung.

..Now that I thought about it, something was missing from its reflection - myself. 

And then, like a fool, I stepped closer.

 I expected to see the familiar sights of my wings, my eyes, my ears - the parts of me that turn others away. Instead I was faced with something a lot more human, which appeared out of nowhere in the mirror. She had the same face that I wore, but her eyes were wrong - instead of hard amber, her eyes were a brilliant green. And staring directly into mine with piercing anger. I was startled and tried to step backwards, but the girl reached out of the mirror and grabbed my right arm’s sleeve. Caught off-guard, I slipped on the cold stone under me and awkwardly fell forwards. The reflection was undaunted, though, and wrenched herself backwards with a shout to pull me straight through the mirror glass. 

 I instinctively tensed up and closed my eyes, expecting a shower of shards in my face, but instead was sent tumbling into a curious space inside the mirror itself. The ground was solid, but my entrance sent some kind of ripple through the floor, as if I had landed in shallow water. There was no real difference between the walls and the floor - both were made of a strange dark blue material, like some kind of clouded silk. However, as I had found out firsthand by crashing into it, this material was hard and solid to the touch. What was this world within..?

 That was anything but my main concern, though, as I quickly came to my senses and tried to get back to my feet. The imperfect reflection was doing the same, having managed to launch herself backwards by pulling me through the mirror. Now I could see her in perfect clarity, no longer obscured by the dust time had left on the glass - and she was in quite a state. She wore the same clothes that I did, but where mine were comfortable and deliberate, hers looked forced-on and ill-fitting. Her hair hung limply on either side of her face, with no sign of my cat’s ears, and my pitch-black wings were nowhere to be seen either. It was like she was someone human, someone normal, trying to dress up as me. There was anger pulsing through her body, but it seemed somehow hesitant, and her face was soaked with a thousand tears. I could work with that.

“Why have you brought me here?” I asked her. No use fighting when you can reason with someone, after all. Especially given that I could not summon my Keyblade, and if this entity had tried to reflect my appearance then there was every chance it could mirror my power.

“You know why!” she cried, in a voice like a child’s. “Look at what you’ve done to me!”

Oh.

That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. “So you’re saying that you’re-”

“Look at me!” She yelled to drown me out and pointed at herself with a sob. “I never wanted to be like this. You’re the one who did this to me!”

In the face of her anguish, I refused to let my rising emotions show. “You say it like you think I don’t know that, Ves.”

“Don’t call me that!-” 

 All of a sudden she lunged out towards me - I tried to leap out of her way, but there was nowhere to go and I was too close to the edge of the “room” to try and fly. There was a flash of ice as Ves tried to summon a blade of her own - but like mine, it faltered into nothing. It seemed we were linked in that aspect. In retaliation, I sent forth a blast of dark fire to get her away from me so that I could regain the upper hand. I was tired from my previous exploring, but my magic was always at its height in this realm, thanks to all the darkness to augment it. Luckily, that held true in the mirror too, and she was flung backwards again.

 If nothing else, her reaction to her name confirmed my suspicions. This was not a reflection at all. Instead, she was what remained of the vessel I had taken so long ago, what I had used to live on and be complete again. I had assumed whatever was left of her had faded away with time; perhaps that was the reason for her having almost the same appearance as me. Given a choice, she would certainly not have done so, but it may well have been the only way the mirror could give her a form.

 To try and show that most human of aspects - mercy - I kept low and attempted to look as non-threatening as possible. This was not something I could do easily, but I tried anyway, lowering my wings and removing the mask over my mouth. Ves’ eyes widened at this, and she retained her anger, but sadness was building up behind it. It was clear that despite her outburst, she was not seeking to destroy me - perhaps she realised that doing so would lead to her demise as well, or perhaps it was merely that she was not a fighter.

“Fine, then.” I paused, and used the name I took from her. “Aria. That’s you, isn’t it?”

“I’m me.” she started coldly, then I think she realised what I had actually said. “You- you stole my name. Like everything else about me.”

No way of getting around that, unfortunately. “I suppose that’s true. So, what, have you come to take it back?”

“I- yes! I have to get rid of you!!”

 She was clearly caught off-guard, however defiantly she stated her intentions. The fact she had no weapon was likely the main factor, although there was still every chance she could use the same magic as me. It was then that I realised the mirror had appeared behind her - and through it, I caught a glance of the real world I had come from. A chance to escape! The ceiling of this strange space looked too low, but there was still a way of getting around her. I slowly crouched lower, let my wings unfurl, darted to the side as Ves flinched from the sudden movement- and my hand brushed against hers when I passed her.

 A cascade of emotions brought me to the floor. All her anguish, all her pain, from all those years - I felt every aspect of it in a single moment. She was what I had used to live on, the reason I could be as I am now; but how I had repaid the favour? In the most Heartless way I could have - by twisting her form, taking her name, and leaving her dormant. She was a shell trapped in slumber, with her light consumed and overshadowed. No more than a soul left to fade away in place of all it could have been. How could I have done that to her? To anyone?

I turned and looked up at her, now understanding what I had put her through, but unable to speak through the emotions. Ves seemed to notice that, too, and her expression had shifted - perhaps our connection had reunited her with the memories I had that she never experienced.

Then she spoke, with what felt like a much more characteristic quietness. “Can you.. let me be myself again?”

I rose to my feet, and gave only an honest answer. “I can’t let go of you entirely. I don’t remember how to. But.. if you have the strength to show up, I won’t fight it. I’ve kept you down long enough.”

“..I understand.” She smiled, even if it was not all she was hoping to hear. “Thank you, Aria.”

“You’re welcome.. Aria.”

A more amused smile from her this time. “That’s going to be confusing, isn’t it?”

We both managed to laugh at that one, despite ourselves, and as I stepped through the mirror, the sound of her laughter shifted from outside to inside me as my reflection became nothing more than that. I felt different now, but as the cold and empty realm sprawled itself before me again, I knew for sure that I had done something right for once. And I had a new goal in sight - to find a way for us both to survive.

[spartanxhunterx]

So late the party has left.

Ok, I've had this submission from @starmage2 for ever and just got around to it now.

As a heads up I've changed the 'Alien invasion ' to Gorilla Grodd invasion instead. Same general thing though.

-

Paris was not a place the flash visited often or even with purpose. A city of calm and peace that was unaffected by the world's crazies, maniacs and supervillians. There has never been a reason to be in Paris, for anyone from the league. Aside from maybe taking a superspeed shortcut or flying well above the city to make time to ones real destination.

But now Flash, or Barry Allen to those close to him, feared that the millennia long peace was going to be broken. News had spread that Gorilla Grodd, One of Flash's Rivals, had snuck his way to Paris, France, with plans to use De-evolution devices to regress the human population for his own uses.

That was Not something the justice league was going to ignore, it would be like ignoring an upstart villain or a call for aid. Such things were not taken lightly.

he had long since past Paris' border and was making his way to the Eiffel tower, Where the rest of the Justice league members that were joining him would be meeting up with him. It was considered the most neutral and hidden spot in Paris after dark.

Still, he indulged himself by taking the long scenic route, confident that he would beat everyone there. Except for maybe superman but who cares about that?

So it was a huge surprise, when passing the Louvre, that a large portal opened in front of him and before he could redirect himself he was already through to the other side, his feet skid against the oiled floor as he tumbled into a pre-placed net. The trap triggered and the next thing he knew he was tied up and dangling a foot off the floor.

Ignoring the oncoming footsteps he tried twisting his limbs, if he could move just the slightest amount he could friction burn the ropes around him to free him. It wasn't until he felt something pointy touch his chest and a hand guide his chin that he looked at the perpetrators. There were three, one female, two males.

one guy looked like he was dressed up as a monkey with a Bo Staff, the girl like a bee and the other guy... Well he wasn't sure up he was going to guess a horse due to the horseshoe they had.

"Watch it speedy." The girl talked, a hint of smug laced in her voice. "Try to vibrate your way out of that and I'll stick you to the spot."

" do you have any idea who I am? What kind of trouble you'll be in for doing this? " Cause he knew the rest of the team would be suspicious if he wasn't at least the second person there, these three were playing a dangerous game and he wasn't in the mood to deal with more wannabe villains.

"The Flash," the horse? Started , gesturing to his tied up self. "Fastest man alive, scarlet speedster, defender of Central City. And if my suspicions are correct, Barry Allen. "

flash sputtered slightly, voice cracking with his next words. "W-What, No!"

" Ha! Instant denial! " The monkey exclaimed as he pointed to him before clapping the other guy on the shoulder. " You got it right on the head Pegasus."

OK, Pegasus, one name down. "So, you the ring leader here?" He turned to him and Barry realised he couldn't make out his expression due to his dark glasses, who wears sunglasses at night?

"No. I'm more of the... Tactical analysis type. Information provider and long term planner." He pointed to the other two. " My cohorts here are Abeille and roi singe. "

 "The more important thing here, is why is the justice league here in Paris when you've been banned from entering."

 " What! When did this happen!? "

 "Six years ago."

Flash stared dumbfounded at the three, all attempts to escape forgotten. The JL was banned from Paris? And had been for six years? "Why?"

" Oh please. " Abeille scoffed as she picked up her discarded coffee drink, taking a slow sip to force tension to grow. "Don't act like you don't know why, you're fully aware and if not?... Ask Green lantern."

Roi singe's Bo Staff let out a chime and he slid open the panel to reveal the communicator. "Anything on your end yet?" The voice on the other end was feminine, the three Parisian heroes easily recognized Ladybugs voice.

" Yeah actually, managed to bag the Flash, trap worked like a Charm. "

"The Flash? Interesting. See what he knows, we've got reports of odd noises coming from an old abandoned warehouse. Me, Viper And Ry are gonna check it out, Chats on the way to you and so are some local Officers, let them deal with the Flash. "

"So, what are you doing here Speedy wonder?" Pegasus smacked Roi on the chest before turning his critical gaze to the tied up hero.

"What he means is, why are you hear and who else should we expect, I doubt you came to Paris for a holiday. You shouldn't have been caught by this trap, you react too fast, you were occupied with something."

" The JL had received reports that Grodd, Gorilla Grodd, has made his way to Paris. Nothing good had ever come from him being anywhere near humans so we sent a team to deal with it before too much damage can arise. "

The three of them looked at each other skeptically, since when did the JL care about collateral damage?

"Ok, meet up point, now."

" You think I'm gonna tell that to a bunch of upstart villains? "

There was a moment of silence before the three of them burst out laughing, Roi had to prop himself up by his staff while Abeille almost doubled over. When she was done she splashed the remains of her, now cold, coffee over the heroes face.

"Villains? Really?" She sneared pulling the heroes face closer to hers. "We are the heroes of Paris, Defenders of France, part of the Miracle team. If you ever get the chance, ask Diana what a Miraculous is... And she will know, any statement to the contradictory is a lie."

"Now, meet up location?"

" Eiffel tower. "

" Who will be there? "

"Batman, Superman, Wonder woman, Green lantern And Robin."

"Good. Officer Cuff him and give him a cell." Unknown to The Flash several officers had arrived, they quickly slapped on some anti-meta handcuffs before removing him from the net , shoving the 'hero ' into the police car before driving away.

"Chat's on his way to the tower, let's give him some back up."

-

It was twenty minutes later, the use of two vemons, one uproar and the combined might of Pegasus, Abeille, Roi singe, Chat Noir and Carapace to subdue the heroes who had been waiting for the Flash.

Not that the flight was difficult, not while Green lanterns ring was on the Fritz and couldn't form a single thing, Superman was Frozen in place, Along with Robin, Batman was being held in a restraint by Carapace and Diana had been given a fright by being teleported way above them for a few moments before she and Green lantern were tied up in Abeille's Wire.

it was a good thing the team was well within their mid twenties, had they been teens their miraculous would have run out by now. Instead they could cast their powers as much as they wished while only gaining some exhaustion if they went too far. Without the fear of de-transforming.

"Well... That was easy." Roi Singe leaned against the frozen Form of Robin, not bothered by the fact that the violent vigilant was frozen mid-strike.

"I don't think..." Carapace grunted as he tightened his grip to Batmans arms , keeping a hold above his elbows so he could keep the man's arms behind his back. "Getting the drop on unsuspecting people AND freezing their power player," his head jutted to superman, where Chat Noir was happily sitting on his shoulders as he played with his tool. "Can be considered a fight, more like a slaughter really. "

"I agree." Abeille nodded as she tugged her two captives closer to her, without missing a beat she sat on the Amazonian's back before propping her feet up on Green lanterns head. "So, greenie, recognise us?"

"Should I?" He tried to move his head from under the bee hero's foot but was quickly met with the heel of said foot impacting the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for!?"

" You really don't recognise me Hal Jordan? " Chat Noir growled out as he leaped off supermans shoulders before lifting the other others face with his baton.

Said hero stiffened at his name and the Cat Hero took it as his cue to continue. "The justice League receive, over a period of three years, a large amount of calls for aid from France, Paris specifically."

Both Batman and Wonder woman ceased their resistance as they heard this, why was this the first time they were hearing it?

"From two, young, barely teen, kids. Who had far too much responsibility thrusted onto them, who had to fight a maniac who mind controlled and powered up people who were experiencing negative emotion. "

"He targeted kids... A lot."

" What? " Despite their age and experience many of those present flinched at the harshness in Batmans voice, Pegasus turned to him, emotion hidden behind his darkened glasses.

"The butterfly Miraculous of Transmission is able to find people who experience strong emotion, be they negative or positive and empower them based on the current circumstances, like say... "

He paused as he tried to find a viable scenario to use.

"Ok, if you say someone falling from a tall tower and you really wanted to save them, a butterfly weilder could empower you and give you flight, either by giving you wings or... Making you like him." He pointed to superman.

"Hawkmoth, however, would wait until you had negative emotions, being dumped, bullied, fired so on and so forth normally caused these things and he would make it possible to get revenge, with the exception being that they HAD to get Ladybug And Chat Noirs miraculous to pay off the 'debt' they were in. "

"They never remembered the things they did, fortunately, can't say the same for those who died and came back to life though."

Those present Blinked, Batmans mouth opened and closed for a moment before his steely gaze landed on Hal.

"Paris once Flooded, an estimated 87% of Paris drowned that day... The other 13% wasn't purely kids."

"Hal."

" I didn't know ok! " Hal was recoiling from the glare that Batman was sending his way. "I thought it was a prank, ok! I didn't think it was real, how can you take two kids who dress up as a Ladybug And a Cat seriously?"

"You should have investigated, met up with them and assessed the situation First, not assumed."

" I know. " Hal's head hit the floor beneath him with a sigh. The Paris hero's looked at him like he was worth less then the dirt under their boots.

"If you help us tonight, we'll help you afterwards." The looks returned to Batman where after a moment a few of them scoffed.

"Hawkmoth's in jail dude." Carapace shook the vigilante's arms. "Has been for... Four years now, we've already reclaimed the lost Miraculi and the book, now we just deal with petty crime and... Well, your mess, it seems."

"Stick to punching Gotham's nutbags, we'll deal with Paris." No one objected to Chat's words, though Batman defiantly seemed to slump at them.

The cat hero shook his head at the older hero before his baton rang, his flipped it open and a moment afterwards Ladybugs voice came through, the Paris hero's were able to pick up on the urgency in her voice.

"Chat, I need you, Roi, Bee, Pegasus and Rena here now."

" on it, " He looked up as he closed his baton. "You heard her, let's go, Pegasus, get Rena, Carapace, keep an eye on these lot."

" got it dude. " He let go of Batmans arms as Abeille released both wonder woman and Green lantern from their bindings. Simultaneously both superman and Robin were released from the effects of venom as it was released. The other Paris heroes leapt away.

"So... Carapace right?" Diana extended her hand out to the turtle hero, who had leant against the railings with his arms crossed.

"I know who you are, and Tikki is not happy with you right now." She flinched at that. "For twelve years you ignored us, four years after we beat Hawkmoth do you finally show up and it's to deal with one of your own. I think I speak for all of Paris when I say, We don't want you here. "

"Since when do you have the authority to do that?" Both Robin and Carapace had a small stare off before Carapace rolled his eyes .

"Since France voted to ban all Non-miraculous heroes, which includes the justice League. You didn't care before, why care now?"

" is there anything that can be done? "

Carapace shook his head at superman. "You are far too late on that dude, there's being late to a party then there's turning up after the hosts have cleaned up. "

 "You guys turned up for the party days after it was over, so save some face, wait for them to come back, get the Flash then leave. "

"The Flash is here?"

" Dudes spending his time in a cell tonight. "

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows XXVIII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Warnings: Pain

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm starting to think that you guys all remember me through rose-tinted glasses.

I had been thinking about how the team had talked about and to me. The way they acted, it was like I was the sweetest girl to ever walk the earth. My suspicions grew after the reaction to my initial report. The fact that I killed someone blew their minds. For fuck's sake, I'm- I was a Shield agent! None of our hands are clean. 

Perhaps you're right...

 It's been a couple of days since I gave my final report. It was mostly to fill in a few gaps that the previous ones didn't fill. 

I'm sure it was just luck at this point that I didn't break down telling the story. I've lost it for a lot less. I keep telling myself I was just doing my job. That I pushed all the feelings away. I didn't have any support, so I supported myself. I felt like I was lying. To the team and myself. I wasn't that strong. I've never been that strong. I never will be that strong.

Maybe I had a hand in painting those lenses.

Either way, we're just glad to have you back Y/n.

Awe, princey, you old sap.

Loki grumbled a bit, Really?

In return I put on an innocent facade, Whatever do you mean, princey?

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. 

... So what're we gonna do?

He sighed, I guess we'll just take it one day at a time, my dear.

That's what we did. One day at a time. We talked, we sang, sometimes we would just sit there and play some cards. Time seemed to fly by, so much that I couldn't recall when I got back. And for the first time in a very long time, I loved not knowing.

I occasionally asked how long it's been and currently, it must have been close to four months. 

It was a music day today. I had eventually gotten Loki to sing along with me, especially after I found out he listened to my music while I was away. Song after song we would sing together, in my head of course. Loki had a lovely voice, just the right octave for the types of songs we were singing but had a pleasant contrast of smoothness to the usual roughness of the original vocalist.

I can't believe I was just thinking about that.

Hello? Hello? Hello?

Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me Is there anyone at home? Come on now I hear you're feeling down Well I can ease your pain Get you on your feet again Relax I'll need some information first Just the basic facts Can you show me where it hurts?

I loved getting lost in the music, letting it not only flow around me but through me as well. The steady rhythm was an easy distractor of everything going on. I could feel myself reaching for the notes, my fingers pleasantly stretching with the highs and lows.

There is no pain you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon You are only coming through in waves Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying When I was a child I had a fever My hands felt just like two balloons Now I've got that feeling once again I can't explain you would not understand This is not how I am "I have become comfortably numb"

The music just drowned everything out. With the tide, I could feel it extending my shores, the push and the pull of the tempo. I wanted to smile as Loki's voice paired with my own could have caressed the stars to sleep. 

"Okay Just a little pinprick There'll be no more, ah But you may feel a little sick Can you stand up? I do believe it's working, good That'll keep you going through the show Come on it's time to go"

Sometimes it was better to not feel at all instead of all the pain. With the odd senseless feeling from the shadowy powers running through my veins, music had a similar effect that led to comfort. Or maybe it was the needed distraction from all the previous pain. A way to escape.

"There is no pain you are receding A distant ship, smoke on the horizon You are only coming through in waves Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse Out of the corner of my eye I turned to look but it was gone I cannot put my finger on it now The child is grown The dream is gone I have become comfortably numb"

I dragged out the last line as long as possible as the closing notes played out. I just reveled in the feeling that encompassed me. A lovely feeling of peace.

A voice came on through an intercom, "Holy shit."

I knew he wouldn't hear me but I figured Loki could convey my thoughts, "Holy shit, what Tony?"

"Holy shit I can hear you Y/n!"

I rolled my eyes, "What are you talking abo-" I paused and realized I could hear myself talking. "Loki?"

"It's not me." He sounded excited but was holding his breath.

"Holy shit!" I looked at my hand and watched as I flexed, fisted, and relaxed it, all to my own will and pleasure. I raised my head to look at the wall where I assumed Loki would be hanging out on the other side, "Holy shit!"  I stretched my arms wide, "Whoo-hoo!" I started to laugh, a wave of endorphins and adrenaline taking over. 

It was only a couple of minutes before the outer section of my cell was flooded with my friends. They all chattered excitedly at the development. I could hardly tell who was saying what, but it was so good to see them. Everyone looked a little older, little rougher, but they were still the same Tony, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Steve, and Loki. There was one new face, but the way she held herself gave me a guess.

"You must be Wanda." I would have offered my hand, but there was still a thick sheet of glass that separated us.

She nodded, still looking a little closed off.

"Well, it's nice to see you." I smiled softly at her before turning to talk to the rest again. I struggled to focus, but I was so happy I didn't really care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki sat a little apart from the group, letting them have their moment with Y/n. Right when he realized he heard her voice come out of her mouth, not the twisted version, he withdrew from her mind. He let her be free and by herself. At first, Loki wasn't sure if he could believe it. He had been hearing her voice for the last four months in her head, it almost didn't register that it wasn't supposed to be heard through his ears.

It was shocking. One minute it was just any other day, she and Loki were singing where no one could hear them but each other, and then the next she was able to... Do whatever she wanted. She could sing, she could dance, she could see. Loki wasn't sure how it happened. He felt a change, of course, but he didn't know that it was the change they were waiting for, working for.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a hand placed on his arm. He turned towards Wanda and looked at her expectedly.

"She's going to fall apart, Loki." She seemed concerned, but it didn't downplay the final-ness of her tone. 

Loki furrowed his brow, "What are you talking about?"

She grew a bit frustrated, "What a friend you are if you can't tell she's about to break!" She kept her voice low as to not alert the rest of the team.

Loki turned his eyes towards Y/n to look her over. He did notice that her smile seemed a bit strained, but that could have been from several factors.

"She- she's..." Loki stuttered to defend himself in not finding anything wrong with her but decided to drop it, "How would you know?"

Only then did Loki notice the shine coming from Wanda's eyes.

"Because I'm in her head, and for another, she's not yelling at me to get out."

Before Loki could respond a large thump was heard from Y/n falling to her knees heavily. She clenched her hands against her head and an ear-splitting shriek came pouring out of her mouth.

In an instant, Loki teleported into the inner chamber and knelt next to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the team clutching their ears and looking worriedly through the glass. Wanda looked like she wanted to help and ran towards where the door through the glass was. 

Y/n didn't seem to recognize that he was there. Not even when he placed his large hands over her own to try and slow her rocking. 

"Come on, Y/n, look at me. Talk to me! You're going to be fine, what's going on?" Loki tried to talk to her, but tears kept streaming down her face and the only time the deafening cry stopped was when she took a breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt like every headache I had ever had had been reincarnated at twice the strength. They were all pounding against my skull with jackhammers. I thought maybe if I squoze my head it would still the throbbing.

Nothing was registering except for the pain. I vaguely remembered that I was talking to people, but the only thing on my mind was the agony. I could barely even recognize that I was screaming. I wanted to retract back into what it was before. It sucked. It sucked horribly. But at least it didn't hurt.

I tried to pull back from the pain; I tried to make myself as small as possible, but it was like clenching my fist, there was only so small I could go. 

Since that wasn't working, I desperately pushed at the pain, begging it to go away. It seemed to have worked at least a little bit because I started to hear someone talking to me through the shrill shriek coming from the back of my throat.

"Please! Y/n, talk to me. What can I do?" 

Instead of the pain, I tried to focus on his voice. I tried to anchor myself to the warmth of his hands. His thumbs would gently brush against my temple and right then did I realize how long it's been since I've been touched.

I let out a whimper, "It hurts... Please, it hurts so much!"

I heard Loki let out a sharp breath, "Okay, okay! We're making progress. Wanda is trying to find what's making you hurt alright? Stay with me. Keep talking to me."

I let out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush, "I would very much enjoy slamming my head against that glass right about now." I clenched my teeth as I felt myself slipping back into the anguish. I kept my eyes closed tightly as if I let up just a little bit of pressure, my brain would come pouring out of my eyeballs.

I thought I heard a soft thump next to me and I snapped my eyes open to see what was the matter. Almost instantaneously I shut them again at the bright lights.

"What's happening?" My voice sounded strained.

"Uh, nothing for you to worry about. Wanda just passed out next to you-"

I felt myself start to tip over, "What?"

"Would you like to sleep? Would that make you feel better?" Loki softly laid me down to the floor, his hands cradling my head.

I softly nodded, speaking became difficult as my little hold on control started to slip again. 

"Alright, everything is going to be fine, my dear. Just rest."

A soothing feeling washed over me and I felt my whole body almost involuntarily relax. Before I knew it I was at peace in a lovely dreamland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awoke with a whimper. My head was pounding with what felt like the mother of all hangovers. I curled into a ball wishing for nothing more than to slip back to the world I awoke from. I couldn't quite remember what that world was, but I knew it was pleasant. And that's all I could ever want, something pleasant.

"Hey! She's awake!" Tony was probably just speaking excitedly, but it sure felt like he was yelling right into my ear.

I let out an aggressive grunt and tucked an arm over my eyes and ear.

Another voice came much closer and much gentler, "Easy Tony, you never enjoy us yelling about when you have drunk too much the night before."

"I guess that's true, sorry kid." I heard the squeak of someone's shoes against the smooth floor I was lying on.

I peeked out from my arm to see Tony squatting next to me with a glass of water and a handful of pills. I started easing myself up from my curled body, and someone's hand hooked under my elbow and helped me prop myself up against the curved glass. I looked over to see Loki sitting next to me. I wasn't sure how long they'd been there, but before I hurt my brain too much thinking about it I greedily swallowed the pills Tony gave me.

I tilted my head back against the glass and closed my eyes as I felt the water slide down my throat effectively soothing the roughness.

"I'm sure you would want to know what caused you that much pain," Loki spoke quietly for my benefit, and I greatly appreciated it.

I hummed in agreeance.

"As far as we could tell it must have been some sort of extreme growing pains."

I groaned, "I'm too old for growing pains."

"Yeah, tell that to Clint every time he hurts himself from his growing stupidity." I could practically hear the eye-roll coming off of Tony and I had to let out a chuckle that I immediately regretted. 

There was just the steady sound of the three of us breathing for a little bit. Eventually, I reached my hands out to where the two men were positioned until they both took hold of my hands. I squoze them gently, showing my thanks.

Tony squeezed back before letting go, "I'll let the team know that you're okay, they'll be relieved. Technically, we aren't supposed to be in here, so me and Rock of Ages over here better beat it."

I didn't open my eyes, "Mmm, alright."

I heard them stand and walk towards the door. Before they could walk through the door I couldn't help with a remark.

"Why don't you get me a book? Or a deck of cards? I need to see if I can still make card houses."

A/n: Hey, if you enjoyed it please leave a like and a reblog? Thanks!!

 Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FrOQC-zEog

Tag List: @kitkatd7 @snarky--starky @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @kaogasm

[hopelessly-me]

@winterhawkliveshere posted a photo of a man in a red running shorts... and I thought it was a swimsuit (oops!) so let’s play make-believe here.

Bucky ditched his backpack the moment he walked onto his floor and looked around. Everything was cleaned up and tidy, which wasn’t how he left it, and that’s how he knew Clint had been bored for the last week. Bucky smiled and shook his head before he walked to the bedroom and opened the door carefully. Empty.

Bucky had been out of the state for a week with Steve, on a “vacation” which would have been nice, but all that meant he was in charge of making sure Steve stayed out of trouble. He figured after all these years Steve would have figured out when to fight and when to turn his head- apparently turning his head was never an option. Thankfully, most of Steve’s fights these days meant arguing with people whose opinions didn’t match his own or people who would swing but at least now Steve could fight back properly. Bucky mostly just got to watch and mouth “sorry” a lot.

Coming home meant Bucky wanted nothing to do with anyone except for Clint. A week without terrible one-liners and jokes that always made Bucky crack a smile. A week without a warm body tucked against his own, calloused fingers kissing his skin as they both kept murmuring “five more minutes”. Bucky loved and hated how much he missed Clint whenever they were apart for longer than a few days.

“Hey FRIDAY, where’s Barton?” Bucky asked.

“Agent Barton is up on the roof,” the AI system informed him. “I do suggest if you go that you wear swim attire, sir.”

“Thank you.” Bucky checked the time- it was shortly after two in the afternoon. With a smile, Bucky changed into his swimming trunks and pulled on a rash guard shirt, making sure his left arm was covered before he sprayed himself with sunscreen and headed out.

Bucky was expecting to walk out to Clint laying out in a lawn chair, catching some sun. He expected to see miles of tanned skin with probably his Black Widow trunks on, or maybe his Captain America if he was feeling neglected, with those big purple sunglasses on. He would probably have the radio on, blaring some sort of music while he was either zoning out or asleep.

What Bucky didn’t expect to find was Clint lounging in a blow up pool that was likely four feet deep, floating on a purple raft with red swimming trunks on. Bucky was trying to decide how he had blown the thing up, let alone fill it with water. He wasn’t expecting Clint to be holding a margarita glass, a smirk on his lips as he looked at Bucky.

“Hey babe,” Clint called.

“... what the hell?” Bucky asked before he walked over. “How the hell did you do this?”

“With sheer patience and a will to swim on a roof,” Clint answered before he pushed his sunglasses up. “That and I wanted to piss Tony off. He hasn’t found out about this yet.”

Bucky couldn’t contain his laugh. “That bored?”

“You have no idea,” Clint grumbled. “There is another raft. Blow that baby up and come join me.” Bucky snorted and folded his arms on the side of the pool and set his head down on it. “Okay, you cannot tell me that you don’t want to. It’s a million degrees out. And you like screwing with Supermom and Superdad as much as I do. And you can’t tell me that Steve wasn’t a handful this week.” Clint pulled his glasses back down. “Join the dark side, Bucky. We get angry faces while getting to sip margaritas.”

“Okay but where can I get one of those?” Bucky asked and Clint grinned.

Sure, Bucky knew that at some point they were going to get caught. If they weren’t careful, it was going to be sooner rather than later, and Bucky wanted to soak this in as long as he could. So he left long enough to grab himself a drink, balancing two more on the side of the pool, and he climbed on top of a raft and laid in the sun with Clint.

They only went inside to change quickly, took a shower so they didn’t smell like chlorine, and behaved in front of their friends at dinner. Bucky’s mind was on the pool, laying on a raft, floating next to Clint, their fingers tangled together. He could still hear Clint’s laugh over his own coughing and sputtering after Clint swore that they could both lay on the raft. Bucky could still feel Clint’s hands tangled in his hair, his body pressed against Bucky’s while Bucky’s back dug into the edge of the pool which he wasn’t going to complain about. He caught Clint’s eyes, and his boyfriend smiled and gave him a nod before he threw himself back into the conversation.

As soon as dinner broke up they escaped to Bucky’s floor and quickly changed back into their swimsuits. Clint pulled Bucky back into the elevator before he tried to rotate them so he could get Bucky against the wall. Bucky pushed Clint back and kissed him until the doors finally opened back on the roof.

The sun was setting by the time they both settled back into some tubes. Bucky had taken the chance to grab some floats from the relaxation pool, Clint cheering when Bucky came back. Bucky was currently sitting in the center of a rubber duckie, while Clint had stolen the unicorn the moment Bucky had thrown it in. They watched the sunset together, their hands linked together, their feet occasionally knocking into the other’s. Bucky was sure at this point they were both washed with a sense of peace as he rubbed Clint’s hand with his thumb.

“You know… we should get one of these,” Bucky commented.

“Uh- what?” Clint asked. He looked over at Bucky, the sunset casting an orange glow to his face.

“A pool. When we decide that we’ve fought the good fight and we decide to settle down, we should get one of these,” Bucky explained. “Above ground, in ground, I don’t really care. But we could do this whenever we wanted to.”

“You thinking about the future there, babe?” Clint asked. “Thinking about us?”

“I’m always thinking about us,” Bucky answered. “And I know you do too.”

Clint smiled and looked back at the sunset. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he answered. “You know how I said you should wait for the perfect time?” Bucky looked over at Clint. “I think this might be the-”

The door opened up and Tony strolled out. “Oh no, he caught us,” Bucky commented.

“Hi guys,” Tony said, short and sweet.

“Oh no, he is using that tone that means we are in trouble,” Clint said with a gasp, his hand squeezing Bucky’s three times. “Should we try to run?”

“Maybe.”

“So funny,” Tony commented. “Two items up for discussion.” Steve strolled out next.

“Awww man, not dad too,” Clint whined. “Bucky, drown me. Drown me.”

“Dad too?” Steve asked.

“... are you referring to me as- no, stay on track,’ Tony said sternly. “Number one!”

“Oh God, he is listing them,” Bucky commented, feeling his grin spreading as Clint snickered.

“There is a rule about pools on the roof,” Tony said, ignoring Bucky’s comment. “Mostly because if there is a storm and this baby goes flying, guess who is getting sued?”

“I superglued it to the roof, it’s cool,” Clint said. Even Bucky looked over at Clint as Tony started stammering over his own words. “Just kidding. Got’cha!” Bucky snorted and let go of Clint’s hand, holding it up for his boyfriend to give him a well earned high five. Tony’s face was almost the color of a stewed tomato.

“Second,” Steve said calmly. “If you two want to, uh- participate in adult activities-”

“Just say sex, Steve,” Tony said.

Bucky stared at them before he realized what they were referring to and his face heated up instantly. Clint, however, looked perfectly fine. He looked between the three of them before he shrugged. “In all fairness, everyone here has seen me naked. And everyone should see Bucky naked because I mean… damn.” That certainly didn’t help Bucky at all.

“Didn’t want to see that,” Steve pointed out.

“The pool comes down before you both come inside for the night,” Tony said, pointing at the pair. “No more pools on the roof.”

“No more sex on the roof,” Steve added.

Clint flinched. “Oh man, out of everyone in the universe, the only person I don’t want to hear that word out of was Steve and he said it. Now it just feels gross and wrong.”

“Very funny, Clint,” Steve called as he walked back to the elevator. “Keep it up and maybe we’ll talk about it.”

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment,” Clint called back. Tony waved to them before the elevator door closed. “So… we got caught.” He looked over at Bucky and smiled one of his bright, sunshine worthy smiles. “What do you say we stay out here all night, turn into prunes, and see Tony’s reaction in the morning?”

“One of us is going to drown,” Bucky pointed out.

“Nah, we’ll take shifts. View this like an official Avengers mission now,” Clint said with determination. “I want to see Tony piss himself and Steve’s scowl face when they ask why the pool is still up, and then have to watch the video of us staying here all night.”

Bucky pulled on Clint’s hand to bring him closer and carefully leaned over. Clint did the same so they could kiss very quickly, trying not to tumble off their rafts. Bucky sighed and looked up. “One of these days I am going to convince you to marry me and then we are moving out of the city, live some quiet life that’s going to drive us both crazy, and I am never going to stop loving you.”

“Honestly?” Clint asked, squeezing Bucky’s hand and licking his lips before he relaxed into his thoughts enough to say them out loud. “Not sure it’s going to take that much convincing.”

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

What’s wrong? (Tj Hammond) (Pt.2)

PART 1

Characters: Bi!TJ Hammond x Asian!Female!Reader

Summary: You're an overseas worker and is in a relationship with TJ, but people can't seem to accept the differences between you both even by financially and background wise. (PART 2!) (Read part 1 before this? Heehee!)

Warning: VERY Detailed making out but no tickling the pickle. Heehee! Cuss words. ANGST, SAD AND A VERY FURIOUS TJ HAMMOND.

Words: 4700+ (IT'S LONG AF AGAIN. 😂)

A/N: I love Tj Hammond so much? You can certainly see how I love him by reading this? Lmao. GO BE CRAZY WITH YOUR FEEDBACKS, TATER TOTS! Typos and grammatical errors may be a lot because English has only been my second language. 😅 LOTS OF GIFS IN THIS ONE! (Btw, Political Animal's plot has kinda been blurry to me right now because I've watched it last year. So, there maybe some changes if you'll notice if I have some errors about the story. Heehee. 😅 Or maybe not? I have no idea.)

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS.

Dedicated: @fandomgalcentral​

The whole boring but essentially interesting party was finally done. After all that argument you had with a journalist, and Tj being the knight and shining armor to scoot the woman off have ruined your bladder. With a lot of Martinis you took made you a little tipsy, making you all giggly and wanting to pee all the while.

In all honesty, you were kind of smashed. But, not smashed enough to fall on the floor with a pile of barf. No. You should keep your head straight before embarrassing yourself from the Hammond family.

"Teejaaaay," You clung your arm around his waist, hugging your boy friend as he was playing you a song on the piano in which you requested for him to do. He was too engrossed on playing, the relaxing melody making you smile. Your eyes turning into slits when you did and that adorable smile didn't go unnoticed by Tj as he was quick to take a peek as his fingers continued to play. "Teejaaaay,"

The guests weren't around anymore, they all went home and it was only you and him. Probably Nana in the dining room, drowning in more glasses of Margaritas since you could hear glasses clinging from there. You intently watched his fingers move in such a professional manner. He got it in him. Tj got the talent even though he hadn't got to play for months now. It was still in his blood.

"You're one sexy mofo," You suddenly uttered lowly, completely out of your wits, followed by a giggle that made him do a double take. Your eyes squinting on his face, closely staring at your gorgeous boy.

He ceased his fingers from playing. A snort wanting to erupt from your sudden confession. "Aren't you..." He paused, his shoulders shaking from trying not to laugh at you because he knew how emotional you can get when you're drunk. "Is my little noodle buzzed right now?" Tj peered down into your eyes, ever so lovingly. Never forgetting to give you that wild feeling inside your stomach, making the butterflies fly.

"No," Your nose was scrunched from his question. You? Drunk? Never. Was he hallucinating? When does Y/N get drunk? "You're hilarious, Honey." His eyebrow rose from your sudden sweet endearment acompanied with a dash of sweet talking.

Definitely buzzed. He thought inside his mind, clearly noticing the sudden urge of being confident with yourself since you weren't like that all the time. He knew you were conservative, quiet and only sweet to him not to others.

Tj held the end of the piano cover, gently dropping the cover before glancing at you who seemed to be completely confused. "What??" You voiced out your confusion. "That's it? But, I wanted moreee!" Your voice faded, turning softer and more quiet. "Because you seemed to be so happy playing the piano again," you whispered to yourself. "I loooove your smiles,"

To your surprise, Tj caught on to what you said because it wasn't quite quiet as you thought it would. "I've been happy because you've never left me when I needed someone to be with me the most," he stared into your eyes, a lot more tender than he used to. A small smile pulling the ends of his lips that made you coo like you were a crazy mother supporting her son.

"Aww," You actually muttered out loud, pouting up at him and he couldn't help but touch the end of your nose with his fingertip, making himself chuckle from how you scrunched up your nose once again. "Look at chu', Teejaaay. Confessing the love you have for a worthless overseas worker who happened to work in a bakery shop in the morning, and a waitress in a bar when she gets her nightshift--"

Tj held your lips with his finger, shutting you up before you could start your emotional rant that could make his feelings take a turn, the constant heavy feeling for how you were thinking about yourself. He didn't want to hear your extreme critizations about who you are. It pains to hear you say all those words when in fact, you never saw how perfect you are in his eyes.

"I know you're drunk, but don't start and upset me, Y/N." He whispered very lowly, a frown was now visible on his features which made you reciprocate his expression.

You sighed, keeping your eye contact despite of your 'slight' intoxication. Just staring right through him, appreciating the once broken boy in front of you, still in recovery. That soft look in your eyes made him glance at your crusty ass lips that made him break his frown.

Keep in mind to give Y/N those lip balms he uses whenever he goes out. He smiled, slowly caressing your shoulder, down to your arm which made you pout up at him. Resisting the way he looks at you were one of your weaknesses because you never did anyway.

"I swear, if you don't make out with me in front of this piano, I'm--"

His eyes glimmered then turned into small crescents as he chuckled, sounding so heartfelt. "Here I thought you were one conservative lady," He raised a brow, looking and sounding so sassy. Just like your sassy Tj that you love so much.

"Surprise! I'm actually not one right now," You chatted him up nonchalantly, clicking your head to the side with a naughty smirk. "If only you could draw me like one of your french girls while I lay naked on this piano but I'm no French and you're certainly no painter--"

Tj cackled out loud, alarming your intoxicated self as you jumped on the piano seat. "Only my Y/N could drop the weirdest hints to make me french kiss her on this piano,"

Your heart was frantically jumping out of your chest. Was it probably the effect of alcohol? Or maybe it was honestly Tj's damn effect on your whipped self? "I actually said IN FRONT of this piano, but I have no complaints about making out with me on top of this oh-so-sleek piano--" You emphasized, gesturing on the piano in front of you. Tj couldn't help but shake his head from how funny and adoring you were acting tonight.

"Jesus Christ," He mumbled as you heard him chuckle. A small insect that flew on your nose distracted your current state of mind. Blasè from how you naturally slapped your own nose with your own hand, making you groan because it hurt.

Don't think it didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend because it did, and he laughed even more.

"You're such a talkative noodle when you're drunk," To your surprise, you didn't see him stand up from his seat. "Tj--" And he basically captured you in his arms, instantly placing you on top of their piano that made all the heat travel towards your face. What if his mother sees the both of you in that 'thirsty' position? What will she think of you? Not that your mind could muster those things up right now because all its focus is on Tj and his sexy ass self. Nobody else.

"Eeeek! Tj!" You shrieked, shyly covering your lips with your hands, a smile never fading.

"Shut up," He uttered non-chalantly his next words stated as if it was a matter of fact. "That crusty ass lips needs a little dusting anyway,"

Your boyfriend and his sass. Thus, it was your time to raise a brow. "I am offended," He grinned, leaning in close, his cerulean blue eyes turning darker with the mischievous thought that he had in mind. "Preferably with my tongue," Tj added so smoothly before catching your lips with his.

You were currently in a whirlwind, with how Tj was kissing you? He was definitely a pro at it. Creating a world inside your mind that nobody could ever jump in. Just you and Tj. Your own little world.

Tj bit your lip, igniting a purr inside of you that made him grip your hips tight, turning on an imaginary switch that could make him go on and on, dangerously never wanting to stop. He chuckled a very low one once he got to lick your lips, teasing you which made you shuffle your legs and change your current sitting position. Boldly untangling your legs and propelling to have Tj between your thighs, making him oblige with no complaints because he was already used to it. Used to how you like him between your thighs every so often.

The way you tightly tug on his coat could define you as a cat wanting his or her owner for food. Definitely deprived and hungry for what Tj could give.

For you? He'll give you everything you wanted. Even the sun or the moon if he was being unrealistic.

"T-J?" You whispered, talking through his kisses and getting distracted by the sounds it creates from the way he was practically eating your face with closed eyes. Your hands instinctively took his face, keeping himself angled from where you could kiss him affectionately as you can, adding a little bit of tongue as you do even though you weren't quite used to it. Tj didn't mind though because he was quick to lap up your tongue back just like how you did.

Your spine shivered when you felt his fingers cascade on the side of your neck, clasping his fingers on your nape and keeping you there where he wanted. "You're," Peck. "the only," Smooch. "person," Bite. "who," A quiet giggle from the both of you "keeps me," Lick. "sane," Another deep kiss that drugged your kind soul.

A special drug that Tj could only effect you with it.

"The piano," Dougie sounded so done with everything, probably exactly exhausted from their engagement party and seeing his brother making out with his girlfriend certainly added more fatigue to the previous one. "Really, Tj?"

"God, I don't play the piano because you do those stuffs but Nana uses that for fucks sake,"

If it wasn't for Tj who happened to stopped the kisses, you guys wouldn't probably stop because you were too intoxicated and worked up to even know his brother was there. "A cockblocker," Tj backed his head a little, giving you space to breath. You felt him swipe the sides of your lips with his thumbs, erasing the smudge of your nude lipstick, paying no mind that his brother saw him making out with you. "As per usual," Your lover sounded unamused before finally giving his brother the attention he deserved.

"You guys..." Dougie gestured to the both of you before cringing, "were planning to...?" Tj nodded his head, his powdery blue eyes glimmering against the lights with euphoria. Definitely it was because of you.

"Yeah," He cocked his head to the side, playfully squinting his eyes at his brother and still sounding unamused. "Apparently, you're a cockblocker," His lips turn to a grin in which his brother has reciprocated as well. "Continuously giving me blue balls, Doug. You're the best," Tj added with a strong sense of sarcasm.

"Nana's gonna whoop your ass," Dougie chuckled, tugging on the lapels of his coat to flatten it up. "Anyway, mom needs to talk to you,"

You continued to stare at the beautiful man standing in between you with a dreamy glint in your eyes, never cutting off your attention to look at his brother. Heat travelled to your cheeks with your gal bladder twisting in a knot though that didn't stop you from staring at your boyfriend like a high school kid.

"I need to talk to her anyways," Tj informed his brother with a tiny raise of his brow, his attention solely on his brother who walked a foot closer to where you were. "Is it about the dome? did something happen?"

"Nah," Tj shook his head and he could feel you tugging on his shoulder. Slightly shaking to get his attention. "Just something important that I need to talk to her about,"

Dougie nodded, not wanting to dig deeper because apparently Thomas didn't want to tell him the details. He briefly looked at you, and he couldn't help but smile. Entirely amused by how you were asking Tj for help to take you to the bathrooms because you wanted to pee so bad.

"Y/N's drunk." Dougie responded as he watched Tj help you jump down the piano. "Well, that's a first,"

"You didn't need to state to obvious, Doug." Tj muttered with a chuckle. Feeling your arms surround him in a tight hug while humming at the same time. "I wanna pee, I wanna pee," You repeated, sniffing your boyfriend's sweet, masculine, vanilla perfume that you love so much.

"Oh, God. I didn't know she's like this when she's drunk." He tried stopping his giggle when you tried your best to tiptoe and sniff his delectable neck. Humming from how scenty his perfume was. He emitted a snort, jumping as he giggled like a kid as he took his palm to cover your lips. "You're tickling me, sweetheart!"

"Let me peeeeee, Hammondddddd..Or I'm biting you!" You slurred and sounded inaudible. Licking his palm at the same time in which he didn't find it gross and kept covering your lips. "Rawr!"

"God," Dougie facepalmed, keeping himself pretty composed but he couldn't help but still chuckle from your intoxicated state.

"Jesus Christ! Okay! Okay! We're going to take you to the bathrooms and you're gonna have your wondrous pee time," Tj talked you through, his amused eyes staring down at you with a tender smile and glimmer. "Got that, baby?"

You were quick to give him a shaky salute, a giggle never forgetting to travel way past your lips with a wiggle of your brows that made his brother glance at the both of you before spinning on his heels to walk away.

"Sir, yes--!" You hiccupped, giggling in the process with your eyes turning crescents. "--Baby--Sir?"

                                               ✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

"Thanks, mom. I really needed that discouragement,"

"Tj, you're being a little too head over heels with this Asian woman--"

"And now you're giving out negative complaints again even when I had a relationship with a man," Tj had his hands on his hips, seeming to appear stupified from all he was hearing from Elaine Hammond. The secretary of the state. A.K.A his mother.

His eyes were bloodshot red, emotions currently in a mess and thoughts were in a haywire. "Do you even consider my happiness, mom?" He answered back, standing a foot away from his mother.

"Tj, honey," Elaine sounded defeated, a loud sigh escaping her lips. "You know I do,"

"Then why do you oppose me of marrying her?!" Her son's animosity kept her mouth shut. What was the problem with his decision? Why was she saying no to his decision even though he was already an adult? Old enough to think through his decisions in life?

Tj couldn't help but chuckle in anger before hastily shifting to rage that made him spit accidental profanities towards his mother. "She's not a fucking congressman who decided to give up on me and those kind of shit!"

"You watch that language young man!" Elaine's eyes wanted to pop out of her eyesockets. They were not having this talk again.."It's just--" His mother stuttered, finding the right words so she wouldn't hurt her precious son. "What I actually wanted to point out is that it's too soon, son." She paused, taking another sigh when she saw him shake his head in disdain.

There had been a second of silence, waiting for her son to talk but Tj kept his mouth shut as he waits for her to finish her sweet scolding. "You're dating her for like," She thought for a second, counting the months that Y/N and Tj were together inside her head. "--a year? this was the first time we've got to talk again in person and this is what you surprise me with?" Elaine had a hint of distress in her voice. "A quick sudden marriage that you wanted to tie her up?"

Tj cut their eye contact. The floor currently more appealing to stare at rather than his unsupportive mother who found this very important decision in his life, very wrong for her. An utter mistake.

"Teejay, honey," She sweet talked, trying to make him feel better. "I...I just don't want the past to repeat itself, you know how it was when you dated Sean,"

Tj had his tongue poking on the insides of his cheeks. One of his defense mechanisms or ways to show that he was on the verge of crying. He puffed out air out of his mouth, entirely distressed from his mother's opposition.

He cleared his throat, emphasizing his words with some simple movements of his hands. Eyes completely irked by how things wouldn't go as planned. "But, she's different mom. She isn't like him. I've been clean for the past year!"

"That's what you said when you dated him back then," She deadpanned, reciprocating his gestures as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Mom," Tj sounded desperate. His eyes completely glossy under the incandescent lights. "I'm downright in love with her," He added, biting his lips as hard as how his mother's way of thinking was unwavered.

Tj choked on his own words, cinching his eyebrows as he added. "--And I've never been this lovestruck with a woman for all my life," her son paused, taking a breather. "I love her too much that it'll hurt if she lets me go,"

Elaine shook her head in disappointment. "And your solution for that fear you feel is to marry the heck out of Y/N?" She spat. "Tj, do you even have a single trust for her?"

Tj couldn't help but groan internally, roughly pulling on the ends of his roots as he stared at his mother, entirely stupefied from how she was taking everything in. "I do, Mom! I do! I'm just scared that it'll happen again," Thomas honestly spoke, voice turning softer from opening a wound that was already healing. Even close to being healed. "Especially with her,"

Elaine was staring at her son with pity. Tj completely looked like a puppy who was in need of an owner, a pup who was deprived from love and care. His mother couldn't help the tears from starting to form because how can she let her once happy son end up that way? How could she?

Was she really a bad mother?

"She's special," Tj added desperately, eyes bloodshot red. "She saved my life," He choked, sniffing to himself as he washed his face with a hand. Pulling the strings of his fragile heart in misery. "Saved me from all the suicide attempts that I wanted to happen," pause. "Saved me from caging inside my fears, insecurities and darkness that was bound to trap me till I couldn't find my way out,"

Tj’s Cerulean eyes were blazing with great dread and cracks that formed his soul. Confessing how he could be weak without this woman in front of his mom was giving him anxiety and hearing himself speak about Y/N was making his image look more delicate than ever. Yet, he gave zero fucks about it because when did his image became important anyways?

"Mom, I know she's the one for me," he croaked, swallowing the tight feeling inside his chest. A drop of warm tear fell on the side of his eyes, but he was quick to wipe it away a little roughly, blaming his soft heart because he was already crying. Again. "I don't give a damn about her ethnicity nor her race. I don't even care if she's rich or not because those things aren't important to me, "

Elaine Hammond got her tongue stuck in her throat as she saw her son in the verge of bawling his eyes out in front of her. There was more to his tears other than the fact that she was disapproving his decision about marriage. "All I care about is how she truly loves me back just the way I love her," Tj continued, voice cracking from his own words.

"Because that's what went wrong with the relationship that I had with Sean. Now, that I got everything in hand," he sighed, controlling the anger, sadness and disappointment all together. "Why would I even let her go?"

Was she really disapproving Tj's decision because she thought it was too soon for the both of them? Or was it because she sees him as her healing son who had his heart up his sleeve? Scared that he would actually break again and he wouldn't get to find the light anymore?

"Tj," Elaine started, shoulders and head straight as she was about to explain herself. "No, mom." her son cut her off, looking completely rigid. "You just don't want her to be a part of this family," Tj harshly spat.

"What's even wrong with her?" he was entirely skeptical at the idea of Y/N not being liked by his very own mother. It was much more dissatisfying when he heard the former president, specifically his father's who came barging in their conversation.

"Everything," Bud intervened and deadpanned, igniting the fire with more gas if that was even possible.

Tj could feel his nerves in a wreck. He was mad, frustrated for the hundred time because of his own family, especially towards his father. "We're not like you, dad! If you're worried because one of us may commit some fucking adultery like what you just did because I couldn't keep it in my pants--!"

"Thomas!" Elaine scolded and didn't let him finish his own sentence. She knew what he was going to say and there was no doubt that her son knew what his father did. It was not like it was a secret because it has been Bud's serious scandal back when he was still the president.

"So, you're teaming up with him now?!" said Tj, thoroughly upset by how their talk went.

"Thomas James Hammond! You are stepping in your boundaries!"

Tj shook his head in disdain, snickering from everything that was happening as of the moment. He faked a smile, a silhouette of another man coming from the kitchen. "Tj--" Dougie started, trying to understand both sides as he was hearing them out in the kitchen. The conversation was turning more heated and he knew if he didn't stop them then it'll get more nasty for the family.

"Even you too, Dougie?" his younger brother uttered, features getting hard and his cerulean eyes piercing through their skins.

"Fuck, this family is perfect!" His feigned laugh echoed through the room.

You were in the comfort room, currently counting the small pimples on your face, scrunching your nose when you've counted more than ten. Definitely not a perfect woman for Thomas James Hammond and your drunk self is pondering why he was still staying with you when he could've had proportioned models or even sons or daughters of known politicians.

Nevertheless, he chose to stay with you. A woman who got nothing but a kind heart to offer.

You were lucky to have him all to yourself.

Hush exchanges and deep discussions started from the living room. You can hear Tj's sexy, sultry rough voice coming from that certain room. As you were walking through the hallway, you've heard him sternly say things about how his family didn't want you to be part of his, like his mother didn't wholeheartedly accept you.

With Bud's words, it was a guarantee that what he said was finally confirmed. He really didn't like you for his son.

Yes, you were lucky. But, not for his family.

"Tj--" Dougie started to explain, but Tj cut him off with a harsh spat.

"No, no, no. No one really gives a shit,"

"Don't even bother coming to The Dome for its one year anniversary, go fucking throw all those invitations away for all I care!" Tj mumbled as he scrambled to his feet, he was completely drowning in his thoughts for you. He needed to find you because the room was beginning to choke him alive. "Even though, you all know how important you are to me,"

You were at the end of the room, hazy, dreary eyes seeing Tj striding across the room to find you. You fiddled with the lapels of his black coat resting on your shoulder. Basically, you looked like a drunk, kicked abandoned puppy who seemed to not be liked by his family.

A hug was all you wanted right now, and by the looks of your furious, teary eyed, healing Hammond, he desperately needs one too.

"Let's go, Y/N." Tj's warm, comforting hand grabbed yours. Roughly tugging you along in your heels. You were struggling in your shoes and by how fast and long his legs were. "T-Tj..Slow down, please?" you stuttered, alcohol running in your veins and it wasn't helping that the world was twirling in a vortex.

He abruptly stopped in front of their door, your forehead hitting his back with a soft thud. Automatically uttering a tender apology towards the latter. Tj spun in his heels, his long, soft, pretty fingers wrapping around your wrist a little too tightly. Probably because of his anger towards everything, yet you weren't complaining because you were too drunk to even retort. You were even numb from the alcohol and from the piercing words that went straight to the heart.

If only it was all but a dream..

"You guys are the fucking best," you heard Tj sarcastically spat towards his family who were shooting daggers at the both of you. They couldn't understand yet. No, not until they wanted to understand where Tj was coming from then they wouldn't get to.

They wouldn't get to because they've never understood him since he was in the white house.

Thomas James Hammond only needed love, understanding and affection. He just wanted to be loved. He has ever been a soft boy.

Y/N Y/L/N came along and gave him what he wanted, yet she wasn't downright accepted.

Just like TJ Hammond, and that was probably why they were good for each other.

Then the door slammed shut, vibrating their stunned souls. Nana revealed herself from the kitchen, a disappointed look on her pretty, aging face. She knew she liked Y/N's pure heart. More so for her grandson because she knew how he was whipped and ready to climb mountains for this woman.

Elaine's mother sipped on her martini, her voice cracking from age as she finally addressed the elephant in the room. "Elaine," she grabbed her daughter's attention. "You won't be getting to save Tj for the second time now because you've just showed how invalid he was. Y/N will." Elaine frowned tightly, trying hard not to roll her eyes as she was trying to process everything at hand.

Margaret huffed as she glanced at Elaine's ex-husband. "As for you, Bud.." She eventually snickered, twirling the glass in her feeble hands with a stressed out tone.

"You're a dick,”

GOSH. I LOVE TJ HAMMOND TOO MUCH. GO LIKE AND REBLOG THIS IF Y’ALL LOVE TJ HAMMOND! Sorry if it’s too long? Hehehe!

XOXO, TATA

[maggyme13]

The Last Mission (1/?)

AN: I got a request for a fluffy dark!Wintersoldier/Bucky one shot (that turned into a series) where the reader is on the Helicarrier in CA:WS and gets taken by him, ending up as his sexslave (or smth like that).

BE PREPARED FOR DUB!CON and maybe even NON!CON in later chapters. DO NOT READ IF THAT OFFENDS YOU!

I hope I can do the request honor and that you like it :)

Warnings: Fighting, angst

Wordcount: around 1600

 Masterlist

TLM-Masterlist

 „You are kidding me, right? I am just a simple secretary and office-nerd. Nothing special-“, you asked, believing THE Captain America was pulling your leg.

“I fear not Ms. (y/ln). But we really don’t have time for this discussion. You need to come with us.”, he sighted.

“But why me?”, you whined, this time looking at the redhead that stood next to him.

“Because no one suspects a single unimportant secretary to be the key to the carriers.”, the black widow snapped at you, fed up with your whining.

“Can´t you just  cut my fingers off? I don’t want to go there.”

“Understandable, but I fear that wouldn’t work. We just need you to override the main door to the hangar.”, the other man, tried to ease your fear, but it didn’t work out.

______

That was how you got on this flying hell-hole with the Captain and a man that had a metal arm instead of a normal one, who were currently beating the living shit out of each other. You were hiding as far away from them as possible, covering against a steel beam at the other end of the little bridge that span over the glass bottom.

Why me? Why couldn’t they use a fricking cat as the key, or so?

“Bucky it´s me!”, you heard Captain America shout over and over again, trying to make his opponent to stop.

That didn’t work the last ten times! It won´t work this time!- Why does this stupid thing have to fly?

It wasn’t that you were afraid of heights, but being inside something that you knew was about to crash, wasn’t of your liking either.

The sound of soft flesh hitting the glass-bottom close to your hiding place caught your attention: Captain America had finally gotten the upper hand and was now changing the control-chips of the ship. But the assailant wouldn’t stay down for long; faster than humanly possible he had climbed back up and was just about to head back to beat up his ´friend´ again, when his eyes fell onto you.

His gaze was cold and you saw his muscles twitch, like he was contemplating on weather he would attack you as well, or not.

Ice cold fear began to crawl over your whole body.

“Captain...Help-please?!”, you called out, not daring to look away from the dark haired man. Maybe he wouldn’t attack if you kept looking. Just like the Angels of Dr. Who.

That didn’t work with Rogers, why should it with me?

He just wanted to make a move towards you, when his attention snapped back to his first enemy.

I need to go. I need to go, right now! I sooo don’t like this look. Maybe I can jump? – Nope, still to far up in the air.

Peaking over the edge and through the glass floor, you gulped.

I hope this thing can land- somehow.

“SHOOT IT DOWN!”, the voice of Captain America pierced your mind, startling you out of your train of thoughts.

Wait WHAT? Are you kidding me?

Jerking your head to the most famous American, your eyes got huge: he was held down by the his throat, his face bloody and already swollen.

“MARIA, DO IT NOW!”

FUCK!!!

The sound of heavy bullets hitting and piercing the hull of the carrier reached your ears, and you looked around panicked, trying to find a save place.

Fuck you Rogers. I didn’t sign up to die. I didn’t sign up for this at all!

Explosions burst through the ship and you covered your head with your arms, making yourself as small as possible, so there was less volume for the armoury to hit.

Another explosion happened and the whole ship suddenly dipped to one side and started to fall.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh-!”, you screamed, skidding down the now steep floor. Your hands  were trying to find anything you could hold onto, but failed and you saw yourself already falling through the burst hull and to your death.

That’s it. I am dead. There is no way I can survive this fall and that the water is deep enough. FUCK.

Most of your body was already mid-air, when a painful yank went through you and you suddenly came to a full stop. A hand around one of your wrists. Taking in deep breaths to, you tried to calm down your racing heart, and after a few seconds you were able to look up to thank Captain America to saving you.

Only that it hadn’t been Shields supersoldier who had saved you, it was Hydra´s one.

Why did he save me?

He stood there: each foot on either side of the gaping hole, his metal-hand buried into a steel beam and every muscle in his body tensed- but not strained. With one swift movement he pulsed you back into the confines of the crashing carrier and against his chest; your body facing away from him. Your arm was caged between your own chest and his strong arm. Fearing he might let go of you again, you dug the fingers of your free hand into his lower arm.

Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Please don’t let go!

Panic flushed through your veins and you were certain: had he pulled you up with your chest against his, you would have wrapped your legs around his body and, so you wouldn’t fall to your death again, should he decide to let you go.

YOU ARE STILL FALLING TO YOUR DEATH. Idiot.

The river was coming closer and closer, and your saviour(?), captor (?) did not move. Like at all.

Can we please go somewhere save? And where is Captain Americ- OH SHIT!

Your eyes had found the unconscious form of your ´comrade´ laying beneath a fallen steel beam; mere metres were between you (still clinging to that man) and his unmoving form.

Just when you were about to faceplant right into the surface of the water, the man that was holding you pivoted around his own axis, so that his back was taking the full impact and his whole body shielded you from most of the pain. Before you could react, water was everywhere and you almost breathed in water- hadn’t it been for the metal hand clamping over your nose and mouth.

Concentrating on not drowning, you first didn’t realize the male was swimming through the wrack, grabbing the (now floating) unconscious supersoldier by his wrist, only to pull the two of you along to safety – meaning the surface.

It was only a few metres to the oxygen your body so desperately needed, but you couldn’t fight the reflex to breath anymore.

Water filled your lungs and panic your veins. Your body wanted to flush out the water, but that resulted in you only breathing in more water. A vicious circle.

Black had started to enter your vision when air was finally reaching your lungs- the soldier had saved you.

Spluttering and coughing, you tried to give your body the demanded oxygen and get rid of the water.

As soon as your feet touched the solid ground, you wanted to slip to your knees- that was how exhausted you were, but the soldier wasn’t allowing it and so he was dragging you towards the shore alongside him.

Is he even breathing?

That thought flashed through your mind, when your eyes found the apparently lifeless body laying on the edge of the water. Concentrating your whole attention at the man´s chest, you pleaded to everything that might be listening for the man to not be dead. And your silent prayers were answered, ever so slightly you saw his chest rise, but also the blood.

Stretching your fingers, you tried to reach out and see where the blood was coming from exactly, but you were dragged past his body and into the underbrushes aligning the river. Away from the scene of the fight. Only now did you start to think about fighting against the man´s grip, but like he was sensing your change in demeanour, he turned around and gave you a cold stare that made every thought of resistance turn into cold air at once.

More often than not, did you lose your footing on the loose underground and after the forth or fifth time, he hoisted you over his shoulder, like you were weighting nothing. The further he got away from the crashing side, the more fear crept into your heart – he was taking you with him to do god-knows-what and there was nothing you could do about it.

Why me? What does he want from me?

His metal shoulder dug into your stomach and his metal arm was wrapped around your legs, securing you in place. Not seeing where he took you, you concentrated on not getting seasick, the way you were bopping up and down.

You had to admit though, that his backside was rather- Damn.

His muscles moved beneath your hands (you had put on his lower leg, to keep yourself from moving to much), even though he was dressed in thick leather.

Sticks slapped your legs and behind, before the man suddenly stopped and you could feel his head turning, like he was looking for something special. He must have find said something not a moment later, because he continued walking, his free arm moved, and you heard a car-door open.

“You will drive.”, he growled, putting you down and pushing you into the drivers- seat, only for him to sit down in the seat behind you. His metal hand rested at your shoulder, ready to strangle you should you do something stupid.

“To- to where?”, you asked.

“Out of the city.”

Part 2

What do you think? what should happen next?

As always, let me know what you think and thank you all for Reading!

Until next time :)

~MaggY :)

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey @thankyoukarenclifford @thankyouforanonymity  @punkrockhufflefluff @scarletraine @ambrosialyn  @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @buckycaptspideypool @elwenia

MCU:

@yknott81​ ​  ​ @banner-and-bucky-are-life​ @forext20 @dyanlzbb  @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @caplansteverogers

The Last Mission:

  @eyesfixedonthesun22 @sherrybaby14 @lazilysuperbbucky

[gossamie]

real bitches get revenge.

summary — one frat party. one cheating and (soon-to-be) ex-boyfriend. one plan to get revenge.

pairing — jeon jungkook x park jimin x reader (ft. bts)

genre — fluff & humor

word count — 2,514

warnings — swearing, mentions of alcohol, and poorly made dick jokes

notes — this story has been sitting in my drafts for some time now, but i’m so glad i finally finished it! this is a lil different from what i normally write, but i wanted to push myself from my usual angsty fics and give you guys something more lighthearted. i hope you enjoy (bad humor and all)!

p.s. disclaimer: i am not implying through this story that jungkook is a cheating asshole, nor do i think that any of the other characters are exactly like the stereotype i portrayed them as. this is purely for fictional purposes. 

p.p.s. thank you thank you thank you @louvresdemiel, aka luna, for reading this story and giving me advice! love you <3

“Revenge is sweet and not fattening.” — Alfred Hitchcock

Jeon Jungkook— the president-slash-poster-child of Pi Rho Omega and the spitting image of charisma, charm, and confidence. He’s the guy that everyone wants to be friends with, the guy that makes any frat party legendary, the guy you hate to love, and the guy that you’re lucky to call your loving, loyal boyfriend.

Well, soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, because he’s currently kissing another girl.

You probably would’ve still seen Jungkook shoving his tongue down that girl’s throat even if Seokjin hadn’t pointed it out to you. It was as if they were asking for an audience; they were pressed up against the kitchen island, their grimy hands moving and grabbing each others’ bodies in every direction but especially towards the parts where the sun doesn’t shine, and you could’ve sworn you saw spit flying from her mouth and drool slobbering down Jungkook’s chin like a dog— or, more appropriately, like the bitch he is.

Sure, you were sad— after all, you had spent the entirety of your senior year falling in love with Jungkook— but, more than anything, you were… angry. You were angry because he had chosen to cheat on you. He had chosen to walk away from your relationship. He had chosen to throw away a year’s worth of endless laughter and stolen kisses and hushed secrets and infinite love all for some random sorority girl he met five seconds ago.

In that moment, as you watched your loving, loyal boyfriend kiss another girl, you knew that he didn’t deserve you, not now and not ever. In that moment, you knew that you deserved better than him. In that moment, you knew that you’ll always deserve better than some cheating, two-faced prick.

Whatever there was between you and Jungkook, it was over the minute he decided you apparently weren’t as important as a drunk make-out sesh.

But he’s made his choice. Now, you’ll make yours.

And your choice?

To get sweet, sweet revenge.

“Y/N, what the hell are you planning to do?”

“What do you mean?” you reply as you batted your eyelashes at Seokjin, feigning innocence, something sickly sweet coating your tone. Earlier, you had shrugged off his attempts to comfort you, not because you didn’t appreciate them, but because you didn’t need them; they were only a distraction, anyway. There was only one thing you concentrated on as you pulled Seokjin aside from the throng of partygoers: enlisting your friend’s help in your plan for revenge.

“I know that look in your eyes. Whenever you get that look, I know you’re about to do something, and it’s not something pretty.”

“Are you trying to stop me from getting back at Jungkook?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m about to shove my foot up his ass faster than his three-inch dick can inflate.”

“Great. You and I are on the same page. So, will you please help me?”

Seokjin sighs, weighing the options in his mind. Should he maintain a semi-clean moral record, or should he take the opportunity to shove Jeon Jungkook’s shit right in his pretty little face?

But Seokjin realizes there was only one correct option out of the two and that it was definitely not the first one, so he replies, “What do you need?”

You devilishly smirk and focus your attention back to the raging party, taking care not to shift your eyes too far to the right so as not to look at the kitchen and, subsequently, (gag) him. “You know more about the fraternities than I do. I need to know who the somewhat-decent bachelors are in this room and everything you know about them.”

“So, should I start off with me?”

“Oh my gosh, you actually said something funny for once in your life!”

“Okay, listen here, I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, bit—”

“Just kidding! Now, focus. There has to be someone in here, right?”

Seokjin nods, and you follow his gaze to a head of rose gold hair and a nose buried deep in a sketchbook leaning against a wall at the back of the room. The man looked familiar to you; you remembered seeing him wandering peacefully around campus, often carrying a vintage camera or watercolors in his hands. For some reason, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his profile, drawn in by the mysterious aura that lingered around his hunched figure and hung in his deep brown eyes.

“That,” Seokjin remarks, “is Kim Taehyung. Fine arts major. Gamma Mu Mu. I like to think of him as the school’s token art hoe.”

You scoff. “Why do you say that?”

“He fits the stereotype perfectly. He refuses to take pictures on anything other than his Polaroid, he stans Van Gogh, and he thinks he invented wearing wire-rimmed glasses. I’m pretty sure I heard him say once that Instagram was an ‘insult to modern photography’.”

“Okay, but have you seen him? He’s perfect.”

“Oh, I know. But I don’t think I would want to be seen with the guy who looks like the physical manifestation of a liberal arts college degree. Hard pass.”

You’re about to voice your disappointment when a loud burst of laughter from the other side of the room piques your interest. You find yourself staring at a small crowd of people clustered around the couch in the living room— wait— around the guy sitting on the couch in the living room. The people surrounding him are incredibly intrigued by him, judging by how close they lean in to hear him and how hard they laugh at all his jokes, and you wonder if it’s because of his wide smile or his kind eyes or his very presence or all of the above.

You deduce that it must be the last option because you’re intrigued, too.

“Who is that?” you ask, dumbfounded, wondering how the hell you’ve never seen him around the university before.

Seokjin echoes your confusion. “Jung Hoseok? He’s the nicest guy on campus! His frat calls him ‘The Sun of Omega Psi’, which is such a cute nickname. A little cheesy, but cute, nonetheless.” He shifts his attention towards said ray of light. “You can’t deny it, though, the nickname. It fits him perfectly.”

He’s right; you can’t. If Chode Jungcock is the life of the party, then Jung Hoseok is the light. Hoseok seems to radiate positivity and his effect can be seen on the smiles on people’s faces that inexplicably appear whenever he passes by. People like Hoseok aren’t supposed to exist, yet here he is: charming, friendly, witty, and to top it all off, painfully handsome.

You frown, however, and voice your thoughts aloud. “I can’t use Hoseok, though. He’s too pure for this world, and especially too pure for revenge.” You turn to Seokjin. “It’s back to the drawing board, I guess.”

Seokjin is in the midst of forming another sentence before something by the staircase makes his head cock to the side and his eyes squint. “Huh. I never thought I’d see the day when he’d be outside his dorm.”

It’s your turn to squint your eyes towards the something— someone— that has caught Seokjin’s attention. What you find is a man bundled in a black hoodie and huddled at the bottom of the staircase, idly petting Holly, the small brown poodle that Pi Rho Omega adopted as their live-in pet. Though his head is turned downwards, you can see the curve of an upturned nose and the soft pout of his lips through his bangs and you conclude that there is a handsome face hiding underneath that hood. “And he is…?”

“Min Yoongi. I think he’s a music production major, and I think he’s in Zeta Theta Psi, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve only ever heard bits and pieces of information about him because he interacts with people once a year, he’s that introverted. I honestly don’t even know why he’s at this party, let alone why he joined a fraternity in the first place.”

That explains why you didn’t recognize him, because you have truly never seen him on campus before. “So, what do you know about him?”

“I know that he’s the host of the university’s radio station and that he’s normally holed up in his dorm producing songs with lyrics pulled straight from aesthetic text posts on Tumblr.”

“I take that as a no.”

“Mhm. I definitely peg him as someone who sends passive-aggressive mixtapes to all the boys he’s ever touched before. Hell, he’d probably write a song about you and blast it to the whole school. It’s too risky.”

You can’t help but nod in agreement because he does seem like that type of guy. But you choke on the chuckle that’s about to leave your throat, however, when your eyes catch sight of a man standing in a nearby hallway. The pounding music drowns out the conversation he’s having with the two other people standing by, but from the way his eyebrows furrow over his glasses, you can tell that his focus lies on the conversation and nothing else. Everything about him— how he leans into others as he talks, how his attentive gaze never falters, how his lips curl up into a warm smile— screams the definition of intelligence, or, maybe, the definition of perfection.

Seokjin catches himself staring before you do. “That’s Kim Namjoon,” he sputters, pulling himself out of his own reverie. “President of Lambda Kappa Pi, computer science major, future valedictorian of our class. I had statistics with him freshman year and whenever I talked to him, I felt like my IQ went up by ten points.”

“So, from an IQ of 20 to 30?”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you, too.”

Seokjin closes his eyes and releases a sigh, needing a moment of inner peace before continuing. “I would tell you to go for it, but Namjoon’s been so focused on his studies that he thinks that getting involved with anyone would ruin his 4.5 GPA. Also, that being said, my ass will have his name written all over it by the end of the semester and I am not letting you ruin my chances of that happening.”

Well, this is just great.

“This isn’t going to work, Seokjin! I’m never going to find anyone,” you suddenly exclaim, feeling defeated as you plop down onto the nearest chair. You’re beginning to accept that this plan for revenge is only going to backfire on you, that Jungkook is finally and definitely going to win.

And then your eyes find their way back to Hoseok— not to look at him, but rather, at the man standing beside him. He’s currently laughing at one of Hoseok’s many jokes— it’s such a bright, beautiful laugh— and his endearing smile makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. Seokjin opens his mouth, about to say the stranger’s name, but he stops, because the look in your eyes tells him that you already know it.

Park Jimin— the vice president of Pi Rho Omega and Jeon Jungkook’s best friend. He’s the most sought-after guy on campus— that is, next to Jungkook, of course— because he is, quite literally, the perfect guy. Jimin is ambitious, intelligent, caring, and, though you never brought yourself to admit it, everything that your boyfriend isn’t.

Being Jungkook’s girlfriend brought about a mutual friendship with Jimin, but you would be lying to yourself if you said that you had never looked at him as anything more than a friend. You had noticed Jimin’s sidelong glances and stares that always lasted a few seconds too long and, sometimes, when Jungkook was distracted and Jimin shifted his attention elsewhere, you returned them. But you were a loyal girlfriend and you never acted upon your fleeting feelings even though you knew that Jimin was so much better than Jungkook because— because…

Because Jimin wasn’t Jungkook.

What you were about to do to Jimin was wrong and you knew it, but even as the logical part of your brain screamed at you to stop whatever you’re doing this is so wrong, the irrational part of your brain blinded you from any good sense of moral judgement, so hell-bent on getting back at Jungkook that nothing and no one else mattered. Your anger clouded your vision until all you could see was your feet and how they were getting closer and closer to Jimin as he walked towards the kitchen, until all you could think was how you were getting closer and closer to fulfilling your desire for revenge.

Your footsteps stopped right in front of Jimin, who was just about to get another beer from the cooler sitting on the kitchen floor. You were painfully aware of your surroundings and everything occurring within them: how your heartbeat was thundering in your ears, how Jimin was so wide-eyed and so blissfully unaware of the situation at hand, and, out of the corner of your eye, how Jungkook was staring at you and all that was about to happen.

You’d been planning for this moment all night, but now that it was here, you weren’t sure if you could follow through. You gulped, hesitated, felt something in your stomach lurch and oh God I’m going to be sick if I don’t grow a pair of balls right now.

In one moment, Jimin was saying, “Hey, Y/N— are you okay?”

In the next moment, you were kissing Jimin in front of your boyfriend.

Eight seconds— the kiss lasted only eight seconds and every second felt wrong wrong this is so wrong but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this is so, so right. You liked the way his lips felt on yours. You liked the way his fingers weaved their way into your hair, gently cupping the back of your head. You liked the way he sighed onto your lips, a small sigh that silently whispered how he had waited a year for this moment, how he had waited a year for you.

Eight seconds— it took you eight seconds to decide that you wanted to spend much more time with Jimin. The rest of your life, maybe.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that you couldn’t hear the music over the crowd’s whispers, it didn’t matter that Seokjin’s jaw was hitting the floor from across the room, and it definitely didn’t matter that Jungkook was angrily storming out of the frat house, shrugging off the girl he was kissing moments ago. All that mattered was you and Jimin and how you now felt breathless in his presence and how his eyes now lit up when he looked at you and were his eyes always this brilliant?

Jimin pulled away from the kiss all too soon. He was silent for a moment. You braced yourself for rejection, for the inevitable and irrevocable feeling of despair that would hit you when he walked away.

But all he said was, “Kiss me again.”

So you did, and sparks flew.

Park Jimin— he wasn’t Jeon Jungkook, no, but if every moment with him felt like this, then that was a very, very good thing.

[mswisegal]

Behind Schedule

A/N: this isn’t what i expected when i started writing Talbott/MC/Charlie but i thought ‘meh boys fighting over one girl is so old school and a trope overused but still good when cooked right.’ but still. so i thought i might sprinkle in a few fluff and slow-burn with a dash of oblivious!mc cause why not. bon appétit.

How could she not possibly noticed the time? She should be in the library four hours ago, oh if only Tonks would stop her pranks (despite her knowing this was impossible, she wished anyway.). It didn’t help that Tulip was cheering her on as she dropped glue all over Charlie and Jae and then proceeded to dump feathers at them.

This started a chase with two girls laughing as they run while two boys leaving trails of feather ran after them, wands out, and casting a few jinxes their way. It was only in good fun until (Y/N) got hit with one of Charlie’s malicious spells directed at Tonks and Tulip’s way.

She was with Rowan who was obviously complaining about Ben’s odd behavior when she was cut midsentence because of the bucket full of cold water appearing on top of her head and drenching her in the process.

In the middle of January.

Rowan shouted in surprise and the four students, alarmed, stopped. Guilt drowned Charlie and started to fuss over her, apologizing as he took off his sticky feather-filled robe and draped over her shivering form.

“Oh merlin, we have to get her some new clothes and-”

Too late, McGonagall was already approaching them with this look on her face that if (Y/N) wasn’t cold to the point she was numb she would have felt shivers down her spine.

Charlie, Jae, Tonks, and Tulip were sent to detention while Professor McGonagall and Rowan escorted her to the Hospital Wing after the Gryffindor professor had cast a warming spell.

She hadn’t noticed the time until she can leave. (Y/N) who was good as new was finally settling down from the accident before she got hit with the memory of her promising Talbott to meet him in the library.

(Y/N) reached the library with ease since there were only a few students out and about. She thanked Madam Pomfrey silently for letting her out on a free period. 

Despite having doubts that Talbott was still inside, she entered the library making sure not to be noticed by one of the strictest librarian known to wizardkind. Before she gets scolded for breathing (Y/N) noticed Talbott sitting alone, holding a book in his hand, looking slightly distracted and irritated.

She took a deep breath, rehearsed her apologies, and readied her explanation before nearing the teen with hands behind her back looking sheepish.

“Heyyy Talbott...” (Y/N) said lamely, she cursed herself for not thinking of, at least, a proper greeting. Maybe ‘Salutations, Monseuir Talbott.’ would have been more appropriate.

Talbott turned his head with creased brows and (Y/N) bit her lip in worry.

Maybe not...

Talbott closed the book and she started stuttering out her explanation.

“L-Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t paying attention, then I was jinxed a-and I got drenched with cold water, Rowan was there and so is Tonks, Jae, Tulip, and Charlie, then-”

The boy stood up and held up his hand to silence her and she bit her lip again, nervous. “I know.” Talbott sighed out, clearly tired and a little resigned. “I asked Rowan when we were both in Transfiguration.”

“Oh, I thought you skipped class and waited for me... I felt kinda bad.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself (L/N), rest assured I’ll put my education first before you.” He deadpanned. (Y/N) blushed in embarrassment, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.

Talbott’s expression softened before sighing. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to be so- there has been a lot in my mind lately. It’s becoming quite tiring. I-”

(Y/N) was caught by surprise that her wide eyes met maroon ones and Talbott flinched with the sudden eye contact that he looked away quickly, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Confused, she waited in awkward silence until Talbott straightened his back and regained composure before meeting her eyes again. “I’m glad you’re doing better after the incident.”

(Y/N) lit up at the mention of her fast recovery, “Yes, well, you can thank Madam Pomfrey for that one. She is, no doubt, an extraordinary witch.”

“What else could she possibly be? Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have hired her in the first pla-” Catching himself this time, he closed his mouth before finishing the sentence.

(Y/N) now looked at Talbott with a mixture of worry and confusion written on her face. “Talbott, is there something wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I- I don’t feel very well. Please excuse me.”

Before she could say anything else, Talbott went pass her, book still in hand as he went out of the library. Still a little bit befuddled she stood rooted to her spot wondering what was that about.

Entering the Dining Hall with Rowan, Diego, Andre, and Badeea, were all chatting animatedly before reaching their own respective seats. Dinner was quite a party, each member of her own little gang bombarded her with questions laced with concern that made her heart full as she stuffed herself with chicken.

“(Y/N), I truly am sorry.” Charlie with sad eyes and voice laced with guilt told her for the umpteenth time. “I really wasn’t being careful and you got hurt, and-” With a smile, she held up a finger.

“Oh stop worrying Charlie, I’m not made of glass. It was just a bucket of cold water, I faced much more dangerous creatures, dark wizards, and werewolves for merlin’s sake! It’s alright.”

Charlie who still wasn’t convinced, frowned and (Y/N) tried her best not to roll her eyes good-naturedly. “Besides, I think Professor McGonagall giving you detention is far worse than being soaked.”

“Still...” And it was soft, sincere, and sorry. She didn’t know why he was pressing such a small mistake. It was like he did something so horrible that he couldn’t get back from.

Placing a hand behind Charlie’s back, she gave him her best reassuring smile and for a moment time stood still. The warm glow of the candles above gave an ambiance in the room that seems to just fit their current situation.

(Y/N) didn’t know how Charlie’s eyes became so.... cyan.

Sharp laughter from the Dining Hall snapped them back to reality and (Y/N) dropped her hand and Charlie looked away, a little flustered while she contemplates.

After the Library and Dining Hall incident a few weeks later, she had lain in bed thinking of a few things. Firstly, she never knew what Talbott wanted from her and second, what was that all about with Charlie. It was all so... confusing. Not one made any sense.

Why Talbott was acting so differently and why Charlie suddenly felt like it was okay to avoid her every chance he gets. (Y/N) thought she might have done something to set them off but looking back, she couldn’t think of anything. 

Other than pestering Talbott on becoming her friend, and Charlie isn’t a person easily offended. (Both of them really. However, her bird friend is a tad bit sensitive when it comes to his beliefs and opinions.)

Talbott, she thought, is quite frank. It almost got him in trouble once with Professor Snape and one of the Hufflepuff students. She never asked for details but it was quite a big argument that almost resulted in first flying if Professor Sprout didn’t intervene. (Y/N) didn’t know him yet at the time, still a little preoccupied in finding Jacob.

So, she didn’t know why Talbott is suddenly so secretive. She was used to him being blunt. Never once did he left her wondering about his intentions so it was an alarming change.

Charlie was different, however, he can be quite confrontational but not to a point where he would start a fight. Not as hot-headed and not the kind person to explode when backed to a corner. Gryffindor, a house filled with boiling water, has a few members that simmer.

And Charlie was one of the few that simmer, so when he started avoiding her, she was taken aback and hurt. Despite this, she approached him and asked if there was a problem but the only response he gave was an excuse and a red face

Arrgh! How frustrating! She huffed and shifted to her side, closing her eyes,  despite knowing that sleep was too far away for her to grasp.

(Y/N) was alone this time as she walked around the Forest. The sun high up telling her that it was one in the afternoon. This place doesn’t look so bad in the day, it was even close to being peaceful before a twig snapped behind her.

Alarmed and so used to being attacked, turned around with her wand out and threw a hex where the sound came from.

Talbott, surprised, dodged with grace. The hex hitting the ground with a bang, and (Y/N) suddenly realized what she had done.

“Talbott! I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else!”

“Thankfully I’m not.” He said with that flat voice she was used to hearing. “I saw you walking down here, and since I’m a Prefect it’s my job to tell you this is a bad idea.”

“I-”

“Especially when it’s related to cursed vaults.” He added with a bite and she cringed suddenly remembering rumors regarding the Forbidden Forest.

“Sorry, I just want some fresh air.” Talbott lifted a brow and she sighed. “Hogsmeade is too much of a crowded place to think.”

“It’s dangerous but I understand. People can sometimes be overwhelming.” He looked straight ahead and walked and (Y/N) took this as a chance to keep going.

They walked in silence, the wind was cold but they were warmed under the light of the sun and there’s no perfect weather for a walk than today.

When Talbott suddenly stopped and started lifting a hand in front of him to stroke the air, (Y/N) was left confused. What is he doing?

Talbott aware of her stare gave one answer. “Thestrals.”

She said nothing more. (Y/N) only looked at the empty space, looking solemn.

Talbott sighed again, tired of thinking that sighing was becoming a habit these days. He stopped petting the thestral, who huffed, to face (Y/N) with an expression she couldn’t read.

“Do you want to try?”

(Y/N)’s eyes thought about it before nodding, giving Talbott a small smile before walking towards him, hesitant that she might accidentally offend or bump the creature she couldn’t see.

To her surprise, Talbott held out his hand, a silent offering to guide her and she took it. He gently held her hand until they stopped in the middle of the space and she heard the hooves, a couple of neighs, and the flapping of wings.

(Y/N) was nervous but she trusts Talbott. He was a good person despite what the others see him as. Even him, she thought sadly. She appreciates his honesty, a cool glass water in a field of sugar-coated lies.

Talbott moved his hand to her wrist and lifted it up. Suddenly she felt something solid in the air and figured that it was the thestral’s head.

“This one is old, he’s been pushing carriages for a long time.” He said as he removed his hand from her wrist. “He’s tired.”

(Y/N) felt the breath of the horse on her face as she repeated the same stroking motion. “Thank you.” She muttered towards the horse and knowingly towards her bird friend.

“I stand by to what I said about the Forbidden Forest. I have a bad feeling about this place and you shouldn’t just come in and come out even if it’s in the middle of the day.”

(Y/N) was silent, a little sad and it showed but took it as a serious matter really needed to be addressed. “But...” He trailed off and she turned her head to look at him.

He wasn’t staring at her but on the ground with hands in his pockets, looking somewhat shy.

“But I also said that I understand the need of being away from people. So if you want-”

(Y/N) waited. She didn’t know what she was waiting for but she did anyway.

“Then ask someone to accompany you. Maybe Hagrid, he knows his way best around here. Don’t be stupid and don’t go alone. Merlin forbid you heed my warning.”

Feeling cheeky so suddenly, she grinned. “You know me too well Talbott, someone might think of us as friends.”

“We aren’t friends!”

Charlie sat on the fountain in the Courtyard, his leather bookcase with him as sketched one of his latest fascinations in a worn out sketchbook. A little too distracted to see (Y/N) approaching, hands holding a box behind her back.

“Hey, Charlie...”

Like a doe startled in the woods, Charlie jumped. It took seconds for him to close his sketchbook and shove it in his bookcase. (Y/N) felt like she walked in on something private and she sheepishly looked down.

“Hey... (Y/N). Do you need anything?” That was the first non-excuse he said to her in weeks and she could have instantly burst into tears if she didn’t hold it back.

“Actually no, I’m here to give you something.”

Charlie confused and a little curious waited and (Y/N) put the box into view. “What for?”

“It’s to make it up to you. For whatever I did.” She rubbed the back of her neck feeling foolish, she felt like she’s buying Charlie’s forgiveness and she wished that he doesn’t see it that way.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Charlie thought very far from it. Guilt took over the boy again and he lowered his head in shame as he looked down at the box in his hand. It was a small maroon box wrapped with a golden ribbon that was slightly crooked and uneven.

It was so childish of him to avoid (Y/N) all of a sudden. Feeling undeserving of the gift and (Y/N)’s friendship.

“I- You did nothing wrong (Y/N), I swear. It’s just me...”

Oh for a second there she thought that he might not have liked the gift she gave him. But with Charlie’s admission got her wondering what it was that pushed Charlie away, if it wasn’t her then what?

Still, she wanted to give her support in whatever it was and guilt ate Charlie up more than usual.

“It’s okay Charlie-”

“No! It’s not! You didn’t deserve that, I was just being a twat. I just have a lot on my mind...”

(Y/N) thought that she heard that before but can’t remember when.

“Yeah, you kinda were.” And Charlie felt like tearing himself into pieces then and there and be swept by the wind when he felt (Y/N) mess up his red hair. “But you’re my twat. It takes a lot more than ignoring me to keep me away.”

“I can see that.” He chuckled.

“Then stop sulking and open the box already.”

Heart a little lighter and freckled filled cheeks flushed, Charlie pulled the ribbon loose and opened the lid of the box to find a small silver dragon pin attached to a black cushion. It had two small rubies where its eyes are and he couldn’t help but gasp.

“Melin (Y/N), where did you get this? This amazing!” A smile bloomed on his handsome face and (Y/N) couldn’t help but grin with pride.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Charlie, despite the gift and the air cleared, he still couldn’t get rid of the remaining self-accusation. Instead of wallowing in it, he pushed it aside and decided to make it up to (Y/N).

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah Charlie?”

“Let’s grab a few sweets at Honeydukes. My treat.”

And (Y/N) couldn’t stop smiling.

Everything went well than expected. Charlie was talking to her again and Talbott went back to his blunt self and everyone settled down in their own normal routine.

Normal routine meaning: Finding out who R is, figuring where Jacob went or if he’s working for R, helping Professor Rakepick, and breaking cursed vaults.

So it was really a packed year filled with surprises. The Yule Ball was coming up and it became to most talked about topic at Hogwarts and even among her friends. She was as excited to see what it was and what the event will bring her.

In celebration for the coming ball, Jae had invited everyone at Hogsmeade. A group activity that escalated into tradition. They laughed, and joked, and shared stories that got Tonks laughing so hard she got butterbeer coming out of her nose which resulted in more laughter.

As she talked to Penny and Andre about her dress there was two boys sitting across from her, a tad bit stiff and uncomfortable. 

“So,” Charlie said, hesitant before continuing, “Are you... gonna attend the ball?” 

Talbott’s expression changed with distaste at the thought. “Sadly, I have to. It’s inconvenient when you have other important things to do.”

Charlie grabbed his glass and drank for a moment to think. “Who do you plan on going with?” He asked, feeling a little short since the Yule Ball’s date was announced.

Talbott observed Charlie, not missing the boy’s irritation buried deep behind his soft features. “I haven’t thought about it.” Clipped and short, revealing less than what Charlie would have liked. He wants to keep it that way. “You?”

“I have one in mind but I haven’t asked her yet.” Charlie was now aware of how heavy his glass is and placed it back down on the wooden table.

“I wish you the best of luck.”

“You too.”

[yjsangjun-blog]

                       𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 — 𝖇𝖆𝖊𝖐 ‘𝖘𝖆𝖒’ 𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖏𝖚𝖓.

hi hello. i’m cait, i’m 25, i go by she/her pronouns and i live in cst! i am a hot mess who loves causing her characters pain & angst…. i also love ruining their lives on a daily basis.

this is my babe sangjun who’s a lil bit messy ( much like most of my characters ) and you can find basic stats / bullet point bio / basic personality info / basic plot ideas & stuff like that for him under the cut! if you want more in depth info message me bc honestly this intro post is … oof !!! it’s also kinda long so lemme apologize for that as well !!!

but i am super excited to be here and i can’t wait to plot with ya’ll & love your babies !!!! if you’d like to plot, please feel free to IM me on here, ask for my discord or like this post & i’ll come to you !!!

tw: mentions of alcohol / alcoholism, drugs / drug abuse, bullying & violence.

                                         BASIC INFO ( PT 1. )

FACECLAIM: min yoongi + suga + rapper. CHARACTER NAME: baek 'sam' sangjun. PRONOUNS: he/him. GENDER: cismale. AGE/BIRTHDAY: twenty-six. + june eleventh. ZODIAC SIGN: gemini. ROOM: haean + 2e.

                                           OTHER INFO

POSITIVE TRAITS: determined, hard-working, charismatic & adventurous. NEGATIVE TRAITS: hedonistic, short-tempered, impulsive & blunt. OCCUPATION: bouncer at club arena / underground fighter. ( future ceo ) SONG THAT DESCRIBES THEM: i'm not sorry - dean. HOW LONG HAVE THEY LIVED AT THE YUJAEN?: six years. FOUR MUSE AESTHETICS: leather jackets, bruised knuckles, blurry evenings, late night snack runs.

                                      BASIC INFO ( PT 2. )

full name: baek sangjun. nickname(s): sam, san, jun. hometown: seoul, south korea current location: yongsa, south korea. ethnicity: korean. nationality: korean. gender: cismale. pronouns: he/him/his. orientation: pansexual. occupation: bouncer / underground fighter. language(s) spoken: korean, english, japanese, spanish, french, chinese.

                                PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: min yoongi. ( suga ) of bts. hair color: frequently changes, currently platinum blonde. eye color: brown with a small hazel ring. height: 5'10". weight: 169. build: athletic. tattoos: he’s got a few stick-n-poke tattoos scattered across his body, though most aren’t visible when he’s wearing clothing. piercings: these, double helix in left ear & tongue.

                                             HEALTH.

physical ailments: alcoholism, allergies, drug abuse, lactose intolerance. neurological conditions: back pain / muscle spasms, carpal tunnel. allergies: shellfish, pollen, mold. sleeping habits: all over the place, usually tosses & turns for a while before falling asleep. rarely gets more than 4-5 hours of sleep a night. eating habits: horrible, relies on fast-food & take-out most of the time. loves 'comfort foods’. exercise habits: goes to the gym at least three times a week, less if he’s been in back-to-back fights. body temperature: hotnatured. addictions: alcohol, tobacco, cannabis, gambling, sex. drug use: frequent. alcohol use: frequent.

                                       PERSONALITY. ( PT 1. )

label: the cataclysmic. positive traits: determined, hard-working, charismatic & adventurous. negative traits: hedonistic, short-tempered, impulsive & blunt. fears: heights, flying, confined spaces, drowning, commitment. hobbies: arcade games, astronomy, billiards, board games, boxing, card games, comic books, cooking, motorcycles, poker, reading, video games, weight training, yoga. habits / quirks: believes in demonic possession, believes in ghosts & spirits, believes in karma, carries a 'lucky’ item with him everywhere, fights for animal rights, fights for gender equality, fights for human rights, fights for the legalization of cannabis, fights for marriage equality, meditates, always has change in his pockets, owns an outrageous amount of shoes, counts stairs, experiences episodes of depression, boxes, collects packs of playing cards, doodles on everything, gardens, loves board games, paints, plays with fire, plays poker, plays video games, randomly wanders around when bored, sings well.

                                               FAVORITES.

season: fall. color(s): army green, black, red, gray. music: all genres, doesn’t care for country. movies: action, comedy, horror, suspense. sport(s): hockey, basketball, baseball. beverage(s): whiskey, soda. food: comfort foods. animal: dogs.

                                                    FAMILY.

father: baek jaejin, sixty, ceo. mother: baek chansook, fifty-four, ceo. sibling(s): younger sibling, nineteen. children: n/a. pet(s): a siamese cat named ramen ( back at home with his parents ), a bengal cat named shiva ( back at home with his parents ) & a seven month old austrailan sheppard puppy named indy ( lives with his sibling. ) family’s financial status: upper class.

                                                   EXTRAS.

mbti: entp-a. ( the debater ) enneagram: type 8. ( the challenger ) temperament: choleric. hogwarts house: slytherin. moral alignment: chaotic neutral. primary vice: wrath. primary virtue: diligence. element: fire.

                                                BIOGRAPHY.

born in seoul, south korea.

parents were very well known ceos, both running very successful corporations.

and of course, they wanted sangjun to follow in their footsteps.

parents were pretty strict and didn’t really allow him to do well.. anything.

however, they did buy him whatever he wanted and spoiled him in that way.

and due to both of those things combined, he started to rebel at a really young age. ( i’m talking like 10 )

so he’d sneak out, graffiti people’s houses and break things and the likes.

never got caught for it, though, knowing that if he did his parents would have kicked him out and probably disowned him for his behavior.

but one of the reasons he never got caught being a rebel was the fact he was bringing straight a’s in school, was always the very top of his class and from his parent’s perspective? he was a model child.

however, he hated that, hated having to live under his parent’s shadows and be this cookie-cutter version of himself they wanted him so desperately to be.

but he played it off, juggling the 'angel’ side of him with the rebellious tendencies that continued to grow worse and worse with each passing year.

god, high school was so different, though. he’d rebel more and more every single day, pushing the limits of getting caught.

however, word got out pretty quickly about just how wealthy his family was and kids started to bully sangjun for it, causing his anger to get the better of him until he lashed out so bad it landed one of those bullies in the hospital for copious amounts of injuries.

of course, his parents were pissed. grounded him for a solid month and in that time, he learned each and every way he could sneak out of his house at night, wandering the streets of seoul at all hours.

one of those nights he happened to run into a group of people who also went to his school, but instead of them bullying him for whatever reason, they commended him on standing up for himself like he had & told him there was a way to let out the pent up aggression that ended up sending a kid to the hospital.

his curiosity was lit up that night, eager to figure out what the hell they were talking about and a few days later, he was introduced to a scene that’d become far more intoxicating that anything he’d ever experienced before.

underground fighting. no rules, no shadows he had to live under, tons of money for each win under his belt? it was the life he never knew he wanted, but the second he got a taste of it, he wanted more.

so those late night strolls turned into him sneaking out of the house only to meet up with his new group of friends, all of which were clad in full black outfits .. traveling to some random person’s basement ( or abandoned buildings of numerous kinds ) only for sangjun to be able to release every single bit of pent up aggression he carried out on some stranger who’d never remember his name.

his parents? they were just as clueless as before, though, sam continuing to excel in school as well as his fights so much so that he found the perfect balance.. learned how to hide the scrapes and bruises from his mother & father all while continuing to be the top of his class.

not to mention he was juggling all of that and his acting career all at once, trying to hide certain things from his parents and the rest of the world because he knew it’d ruin his reputation.

however, due to the amount of stress that sat upon sam’s shoulders on a daily basis, he let himself slip up on his 21st birthday, parents stumbling into his apartment only to catch him drunk & high with a bunch of strangers surrounding him.

it was a moment he’d been scared of his whole life, worried his parents would just disown him right then and there...

but in all honesty? it was the most freeing night of sam’s life.

he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t anymore, didn’t have to pretend to be a pure and innocent little thing who never did anything wrong. didn’t have to live up to the high expectations he’d set for himself so many years ago and god, he was hooked.

his parents not disowning him and continuing to pay for everything he wanted only fueling him to continue the downward spiral, living his life to the fullest, doing whatever the hell he wanted to... whenever the hell he wanted to.

                                      PERSONALITY. ( PT 2. )

hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, anger and lust.

doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him. ( though it’s all a ruse. )

wears glasses to read and mess w computers, but hates them a lot and probably won’t wear them if people are around.

has two different wardrobes, one for when he’s around his parents. that consists of suits & dressy attire. and then one for when he isn’t that consists of ripped jeans, t-shirts, sweats & everything in between.

is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.

his motorcycle is literally his baby ??? like he ?? has a problem ??

fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators at his parents meetings and the likes.

lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s actually v scared & stressed on the inside because that’ll cause him to start having to deal with his feelings, and he doesn’t wanna do that.

is the biggest flirt you will ever meet?? like if he’s speaking to you… its usually flirty as hell unless it has to do w business ( both his parents & his fights ) or he’s just known you for centuries ?

will try to get everyone to go to bars n parties with him because that’s his life in a nutshell ??

drinks..heavily..  like every night?? it’s a problem tbh.

nerd on the inside though like owns so many comic books, loves to play video games, read books, plays piano.. loves to sketch, paint & the likes.

he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.

full of horrible and cheesy pick up lines and jokes and frequently texts people said pick up lines and jokes.

owns a book that is full of nothing but blank pages and keeps it on his coffee table because he ‘relates’ to it.

is a highkey hoe but he tries to keep it on the dl ( he fails… miserably. )

super into fitness as it’s a way to keep him away from drinking every evening. ( that doesn’t work for him tho, oof.. )

also has bruised knuckles 24/7 & some other injuries he gets from his fights, plays it off like he’s just clumsy.

anger issues af. needs to get them in check.

actually super kind and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall?? which is really hard tbh but if you’re able to? he’s so loyal and caring it’s unreal.

has a bad habit of smoking whenever he’s stressed out, which is usually all of the time so he smokes…. more than he should ( though he won’t admit to being stressed out,,,,, ever in his life. )

highkey into cuddling and all the cute shit like that but would literally never tell a soul because then they’d see that he isn’t the ‘hardass’ he pretends to be on a daily basis.

is a burnt cupcake who has 'decent’ intentions but has extremely horrible execution skills.

                                                 PLOT IDEAS.

bad influence. ( on your muse. )

best friends.

childhood friend.

competition.

confidant.

cousin.

current hook up(s).

drinking buddies.

drunken hook up.

enemies that used to be friends.

enemies.

exes who ended on bad terms.

flirtationship.

frenemies.

friendly competition.

friends that used to be enemies.

friends with benefits.

good influence. ( on sangjun. )

hate sex.

one night stand(s). ( past & present. )

partner in crime.

party buddies.

past hook up(s).

ride or die.

social media friends.

trouble makers.

unlikely friends.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

From Lions to Lambs (Jared Kleinman x Reader)

Word Count: 4727

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long!! I really wanted to do it justice and I love the concept of it!! I will get started on the Connor fic next, so my apologies to those of you who really want to see Part 16, it’s just some of you beat others to the punch! Remember that Sneak Peeks are always able to be requested and I am happy to answer questions about any of my Works in Progress!

Trigger Warnings: Some asshole, family fights, mentions of alcohol, language, a party, being left alone at said party, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Taglist: @finnofamerica (thought I’d tag you since you requested it!!)

This was a predicament.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy parties, it’s just that…well…they were easier to handle with your brothers at your side and helping you navigate through the crazy teenagers would were pretty much just getting drunk on their front lawn as some sort of source of fun. You swirled the drink that your brothers had placed in your hand, eyeing how the dark liquid didn’t change in the purple, orange, and color changing lights. Deciding that it was best not to take a sip, you walked outside, past the crowd of people that were attempting to dance and onto the back porch. A sinking feeling went into your stomach, your fingers clamped harder on the cup—you hoped that the porch wouldn’t suddenly cave in from all of the jumping teenagers around you.

As soon as it had appeared, the fear was gone and replaced with moments that had happened less than an hour ago, your brother thrusting a cup into your hand. Not exactly a smile was painted on his face, a harsh “drink this” escaping him as you took the cup and he rolled his eyes before walking away, trying to find anyone else to hang out at this party. It wasn’t like you��d meant to chew him out, you just got…protective…if that was even the right word for it.

That’s right you’d gotten something, if protective wasn’t the right word, over some boy that you almost barely knew, a boy who walked around with an asshole swagger that seemed to piss everybody off, a boy who spoke his mind, a boy who was exceptional at bragging that he didn’t study and managed to almost always get a perfect score on exams. You’d defended Jared Kleinman.

It hadn’t been an easy task, your brothers were pretty harsh on him. They practically pounced on him as soon as your front door had closed after school earlier that day. It was a blessing and yet a curse that it was a Friday. A blessing because then maybe your brothers would forget about the dumb shit and lies they spread about Jared, a curse because you’d promised you’d go to a party with them, saying that they’re friend really wanted to throw a rager and needed people there. You could practically feel the weight of you backpack leaving your shoulders, even though it was hours later and you were watching the way the pine trees swayed in the distance as the bass continued to almost distract you from the almost-flashback.

“Why is Kleinman your friend? That guy practically exudes cockiness and irritability.” One of your brothers said, walking into the kitchen to grab a snack.

“Yeah that dude is not okay,” the other one commented, sitting down onto the couch and scrolling through some social media to figure out the theme of the party that you were currently at.

“Who is this?” your dad had entered the scene, a typical lightheartedness to his demeanor. He stepped further into the room, setting his coat onto the coatrack and his shoes by the front door.

“Jared Kleinman. He’s in (Y/N)’s grade. Apparently, they’re friends.”

Oh boy. You knew the connotations behind ‘friends’. That meant your brothers knew, they knew that maybe what you called friendship would turn into something more—maybe it already had, you weren’t entirely sure. Jared was hard to read, he always had been especially in public. They’d caught you two in the library, studying for some chemistry exam (well, you were studying. Jared needed to keep his reputation up). And since your brother had annunciated ’friends’, you could feel your dad process that you and Jared weren’t just friends.

“I don’t see it. I mean, how, (Y/N)? He called Evan Hansen an acorn when he fell out of a tree. Like what did Hansen ever do to him?” Your other brother had pulled you out of your thoughts—you desperately wished you could go back to them.

“And the constant quips at other people’s insecurities, really? I just—”

You had rolled your eyes and started up the stairs, ready to just completely lose yourself in music that you actually liked and decided on, rather than whatever trap shit this was. A plan had been made: you’d text Jared, ask him what he was doing tonight and maybe even go to the party together. Or better yet, he’d be at the party—

“You’re friends with this boy, (Y/N)?”

Caught. Your dad was right on the money here. You turned on your heel, choosing that the music could wait a little bit longer. A beat was placed, perfectly capturing the tension of the moment before you practically absolutely obliterated your brothers. No thoughts went through your mind as you inhaled and immediately started spewing things that were somewhat true. You couldn’t deny them in the moment, you couldn’t deny them now as the pines swayed.

“Yeah Dad, I am. He just has problems with expressing his feelings sometimes, okay?”

“Sometimes? (Y/N), it’s—”

“I couldn’t give a flying fuck as to when it is. Do you think it’s easy pretending to be secure with yourself when everyone else is constantly calling you an asshole and completely forcing you to have a reputation that you didn’t even want? Imagine for just a fucking moment how Jared feels, how he feels going through each day with a pressure that you three could never understand. And you two—” you gestured towards your brothers— “are so selfish that you can’t even for a second actually think or even care about someone else.”  

Dust settled as you finished your speech. You hadn’t noticed your hands balled into fists and your face feeling hot until just that moment. Your entire body was tense, from your forehead to your toes, everything clenched and completely supplying the room with energy. With everything coursing through you, nothing could prepare you for the next sentence uttered into the room.

“I don’t like you hanging out with this boy. You’ve changed, and I think that little speech has made that clear. I’m going upstairs, and I don’t want to hear anything else about this Jared boy for the rest of the night.”

“Dad—”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t trust someone that your brothers don’t like, I haven’t met, and makes you act out in that way. And you two,” your dad turned to your brothers, “as much I believe you about this Jared guy, should know better than to make snap judgements about someone. Maybe you two shouldn’t go to that party.”

“But Dad—”

“I said what I said, and it’s final.”

He exited the scene and left the room at a cross roads, you still standing at the edge of the stairs. When he left, the tension didn’t settle. Your brothers sat and stared at you, disapproving looks coiled onto both of their faces. You knew that you were in it now.

“That, and you shouldn’t have exploded like that. Don’t come fucking running to us when Jared breaks you.”

“Why can’t you just hang out with Zoe Murphy or Alana?” your other brother had asked, not looking up from his phone.

Your eyes flicked away from the purple drowned Murphy girl, who had managed to actually escape her own house tonight. The back porch luckily was fully supplied with fresh air, lots of opportunity to be at east and sharp minded with a flick of the wind. You dumped the murky liquid from the random blue cup into the grass that was easily a good 15 feet below, happy that you hadn’t blindly taken a sip inside of the party that steadily radiated heat. It was too warm in there for alcohol; you’d easily feel pukey with a single half a cup. At least, that’s what your brothers had told you at parties before. A sigh escaped you as your eyes fixated on the black in the distance, emotional exhaustion rushing through your veins. You had thought a party with your brothers, would help. It would’ve been some kind of bonding, some kind of weird way of bringing you three closer. Apparently, you were wrong.

The comments you’d said, the things you’d implied, everything really, was something you knew you couldn’t take back. Not for a good 24 hours at least. And now, you were alone, paying for that dearly. Upon handing you the stupid drink, they’d made eye contact and split up—away from you. It was like the two of them had a secret code, something you could never understand.

You turned back towards the house, deciding that going in and maybe pouring your own drink might make you feel better. Yeah, maybe that would be okay. You could let lose a little bit, maybe forget for just a few hours what had happened before. Maybe you could even attempt to see if Jared was at the party, talk to him, and then modestly go home, just to show your brothers that his cockiness was a front. Might as well try to enjoy yourself, right?

While shuffling back into the stuffy and sweaty room wasn’t the best plan, it was the only plan that you had. You started back through the glass sliding door, weaving past people—everyone from the band kids to football players dancing together, laughing together, and probably at some point tonight hooking up together. A six pack piqued your interest, and you started in that direction, muttering out an “excuse me” as you went along. It didn’t take very long to get there, just a lot of awkward shapes in an attempt to avoid touching the people around you. The beer was just in reach, hand almost grabbing a bottle of cheap shit that someone had gotten with a fake or their brother’s permission.

The master plan to get alcohol faded as soon as some guy grabbed your arm. “Never seen you here before.”

“Right. I have to get going,” you said, attempting to free yourself of his grasp. The plan had now changed—get out and get out fast.

“Relax. I’m one of your brother’s friends.”

Your eyes met with the stranger’s. He was right, of course. This was a guy that your brothers swore was a genuinely good human being. He had a front, a front that you saw through, but somehow your intensely dense brothers could never find any loophole through to see him for his true self. A sixth sense tingled inside of you, telling you to get out while you still could, but his grasp was too much. You regretted coming back inside; you were already emotionally tired and this guy was only just pushing your limits.

“Please let go,” you asserted.

“It’s just me, yeah? I’m a nice guy.”

You shuttered, attempts at getting away only failing. A darkness swirled around you, the party faded. It was only the two of you, the rest of was cloudy as you formulated plan after plan that you knew just wouldn’t work. Why did you ever go off at your brothers today and then agree to go to this fucking party? What was the point of that? You should’ve just stayed home like a good sibling, maybe. Maybe it was wrong to think you could find Jared here. And then, all at once, everything came screaming back at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

“Uhh, not really my place, but I think if someone says to let go, maybe you should do that.”

A flush of relaxation rushed through you; Jared Kleinman.

The guy let go, his eyes rolling and then immediately locking onto the two of you. “Are you two like…friends?”

A glance was shared between you and Jared before the annoying frat boy spoke out again. “I am so telling your brothers,” he smirked, knowing that your brothers would believe this random guy more than you, especially in terms of the “insanely annoying Jared Kleinman”. You knew that this sight described by this guy wouldn’t be a pretty one. He’d probably play up the idea that Jared was being an asshole, claiming that he was just trying to get you home safe, but Jared got in the way. You began to panic, but Jared seemed to be fully prepared for emergencies such as this.

“You wanna leave?” he asked, ignoring the true asshole with his hand still around your arm.

“What?”

“It’s a yes or no question. Do you want to get out of here?” Jared persisted.

“Yes,” you nodded as you said the word.

“Then let’s go. Grab my hand. Wouldn’t want you getting lost in this drunken dumpster fire that apparently people call a party and fun.”

It didn’t take long for Jared to weave the two of you in and out of every little nook and cranny that people were coming in and out of. Chaos wasn’t even the beginning of how to describe what in the world was going on at this house party your brothers had invited you to over a week ago. You weren’t even sure why you’d said yes back then. Maybe it was pressure. Maybe it was because they said that they’d stay by your side and if you had a hangover, they’d help you through it. This was not the situation you imagined yourself in.

But the minute you walked outside, things instantly got better. The night air was almost as enriching as it was before, the darkness calming you almost instantly. It was only now that you realized how sweaty you were and how cold it was outside. The nerves you’d had before had caused you to stop feeling the bitter bites of the cold. But now, you could tell that it was less than 40 outside.

Jared kept walking towards his car, and you realized something before pulling away almost violently. “Jared, you’re drunk.”

“That’s a lie,” he whipped around and rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t offer to drive you anywhere if I was. I might be an asshole, but I’m not someone who’s about to put you in danger.”

It wasn’t a compliment by any means, even to himself, but you still made the decision to follow him to the car. You climbed into the passenger seat and he turned the key. It was an old and kind of crappy Volkswagen, but it felt like a get away car—a car that promoted safety and comfort even in the dark and cold that not only clouded the weather, but your mind as well. The engine roared to life and Jared put it into drive before speeding off.

The air wasn’t on as he drove, but you didn’t really want it on. Jared moved a vent away from him, almost like he was annoyed at the extra air fluttering around him. “For the record, I was about to drink something, but you looked uncomfortable so instead I stepped in and help. I’ll accept a thank you at any time.” There was a hint of annoyance to his voice, but you knew he meant every word. He wasn’t annoyed by you, but rather your brother’s friend who had decided to try and hook up with you. It was also a way to distance himself. From what, you had no idea, but you could recognize the tactic well at this point.

Jared never really showed emotion besides annoyance and bitterness. You knew that, but you also knew that it was only because of the pressure. Or at least, the pressure he had to have. With Alana being top of the class, you couldn’t imagine the amount of stress that came with his parents put on him to at least try and be in at least the second percentile. He aimed for a 4.0 and yet he didn’t know how to show healthy emotions. There was a side to Jared that you knew he had, and it seemed like you were the only one who really cared about it.

“Thank you for helping me and driving me home.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re welcome.” A sigh escaped him as he drove up to your house; he’d almost memorized it after giving you a ride home from school one day that your brothers had decided to ditch halfway through the day.

You hesitated, your hand gripping the door’s handle. Did even want to go home tonight? Your options weren’t looking too good. It was either stay at home after a party, riding out the extraverted high, attempting to sleep at some point, completely alone. And in the morning, you’d have to deal with your brothers directly; your dad reiterating that you can’t hang out with Jared anymore. You knew that you’d have to apologize for your explosion and, frankly, having feelings for Jared at some point. There was a waiting period to your apology to them, and that wait period wasn’t even close to being over at this point. The feelings you had towards Jared weren’t bad or putting you into some kind of danger. Actually, if anything, they were what saved you tonight.

You had to admit that you saw yourself a little in Jared. He was an interesting boy that had caught your interest; he was nice and yet he had this front that almost made him appear like some kind of monster to everyone else. You knew the truth; no one at your house did. Maybe you should ask to be dropped off somewhere else—

“You getting out or what?” Jared asked, a bitter grimace breaking out.

“Maybe I don’t want to stay here tonight.”

“Fight with your dad, or are you just mad at your brothers?”

“Both,” you muttered as Jared put his car into drive once again. “They told me you weren’t a good influence.” You watched as your house whizzed passed you, the car going faster and faster. Jared was definitely speeding at this point, a new way of showing his emotions in some form of toxic masculinity that he told himself was okay. His jaw was set, eyes focused on the slightly illuminated road, hands stiffy remaining in the same spots as the car sped. Through his glasses, you could see his eyes glazed over. His knuckles were getting white as he continued to drive, almost exuding annoyance and frustration as he drove. You spoke up again, maybe he thought you were hinting that you didn’t want to hang out with him anymore. “But I couldn’t take it. I want to know you, Jared.”

He slowed down, jaw becoming unclenched as he turned on his directional and pulled over to the curb. The car halted softly and he put it in park before looking at your, a serious glossiness in his eyes that shined through his half dirty glasses. “You what?”

“I want to get to know you. I feel like we have more in common than we both let on.”

Jared nodded before his hand rubbed over his face, glasses moving only slightly as he did so. He collapsed into this seat, just processing for a second. “I have one other place we can go, alright?”

You nodded before he put the car back into drive and began to journey to his house. The car ride was quiet, both of you finally enjoying the lack of noise as both of you seemed into ease into the setting. Dust didn’t settle, the rattle of the car keeping you two comfortable. It wasn’t awkward; it was exactly like it always was with Jared: basic little hum to each other’s company, almost like studying alone with a single candle flicking into the distance. Night time rides were calming. With Jared, it was almost like having your own little slice of a spa, but far cheaper and more accessible by you and only you.

He pulled up to his house and unbuckled his seat belt. “I hope this is okay. Because if not, you’re out of luck.”

You gave a chuckle and didn’t miss the small smile that formed on the boy’s face. He pushed his glasses up and got out of the car, you following suit just a few milliseconds behind him. Jared locked the car as you walked up to his front door. Catching up with you, he rotated his key ring, located his house key, and pushed it into the lock.

“We need to be quiet, okay? My parents don’t know I went out and my little brother is probably asleep.”

You nodded and he unlocked the front door. It creaked open, both of you pulling off your shoes before walking in. Socks make less noise than shoes; always.

Jared’s house was always clean, it was almost like no one lived there. He threw his jacket on the back of the couch before guiding you through the dark, letting you lead as you stepped up the stairs. Each stair didn’t creak, silence completely wrapping the house up with a bow. The two of you were thankful that it was easy to keep quiet moving through the house.

Jared opened his bedroom door, and the room laid messily tidy. There were only a few clothes on the ground, obvious that he’d been trifling through his closet to figure out what to wear before the party. He picked up the things askew and threw them into his hamper. “I’ll take the floor,” he noted, looking back up at you. He turned on his solar system lamp from middle school, which illuminated his whiteboard filled with different codes that had been lazily plotted somewhere in some HTML page. Soda cans littered his desk, a textbook still open with notes in the margins sitting among them. Only now did you realize just how messy Jared was. It was like a mix of his mom and dad. Somethings were incredibly tidy, but things lie his desk were an absolute mess. You had to laugh at him a little bit. Of course Jared was half a neat freak, half not.

“You don’t need to take the floor, I’m the guest,” you said at last.

“Which means I treat you with respect. Bathroom is down the hall.” He didn’t make eye contact again finding extra blankets to lay on the floor. You left for the bathroom, your debate about who was staying on the floor not even close to being done.

Jared exhaled when you left. He kept setting up the floor, leaving for a second to grab a sleeping bag from the linen closet that was next to his little brother’s room. He tiptoed back into his room, laying out the sleeping bag to use as some kind of makeshift mattress.

You came back into the yellow-ish lit room, eyeing the blue sleeping bag. “Jared, come on, stop playing around. You can sleep on the bed. I’m exhausted anyways, sleeping on the floor is fine with me.”

“Not happening,” he said, almost refusing to look at you.

“Then let’s end this right now and both sleep on the bed.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?” he asked, finally looking at you with a look that you’d never seen on him before: he was completely and utterly shocked. Maybe a little embarrassment also flowed through his cheeks, although you couldn’t tell in the dull light. He went back to work, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it onto the floor.

“What’s the problem, Jared? Scared I’m too icky?”

Jared froze at your comment. “No, I’m just surprised you’re so forward.” He met your eyes once again.

You smiled at him and he returned it. A celebration erupted from you. He allowed you to climb in yourself before he joined you. He stayed close to the edge of the bed, obviously uncomfortable with the decision you had come up with.

“Jared, you can come closer,” you giggled; you inference from before had been right. Jared definitely wasn’t the most fluent in emotions.

He scooched closer, finally facing you as he did so. “You wanna talk about this fight that happened?”

His eyes landed on you, concern flashing through them. You could tell he was trying to hide it—trying to hide something else too, but you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it. You took his hand and wrapped it around you before moving still closer to him. “No, actually. I just want to stay here and relax for a while.”

“Sounds good,” Jared said, now only staring up at the ceiling as you cuddled further into him. Red danced across his cheeks and he felt your eyes close against his skin.

“Good night, Jared.” In an instant, you were asleep. Jared smiled and his heart started being faster and faster. He now stared at his whiteboard of coding; the stuff that he could practically recite and predict how to fix different HTML pages. Maybe later he’d try hacking.

But this? You falling asleep in his arms, adorably pure faced as you hugged him tighter? You, his crush finally half admitting you liked him too? You, stupid adorable you, who had been on his mind for 2 years, you: so perfect and smart, at a party and eventually asking you if you two could sleep together and alone in his room? You, the one person he’d risk dropping a percentile for, or even two, laughing sweetly and joking around with him in his dad’s old beat up Volkswagen? Yeah, no science, technology, engineering, or math could’ve predicted that.

He kissed your forehead, deciding to just leave the light on for the night before lazily murmuring into your skin, “Good night (Y/N).”

[cupofteaguk]

all too well | 09

summary: you and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. but two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour. 

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: idol au, makeup artist au, exes au | angst/smut

word count: 7k

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Out of all the boys in Bangtan, everyone has always assumed that Yoongi would be the individual most likely to think problems through before attacking them with the full force of a bullet train. He elects to care about very little things in his life, but when he chose to express personal interest in a situation it’s guaranteed that he would put his entire being into ensuring its success. Given that he’s very careful about what to put his heart into, it’s constantly assumed that Yoongi would at least have the common sense to analyze the positive and negatives of his placement before diving in.

But, then again, he’s never really had much of a filter when it comes to you. You would always be that exception, the only tangible object in Yoongi’s life that he could never so neatly observe from an apathetic standpoint. It’s as if his head could never get screwed on straight enough to see reason because the thought of you is enough to make him see stars in the best way possible—and that concept is terrifying beyond belief.

You've always been different in every singular aspect and nothing at its very core could change that, and that very difference is what drives Yoongi out the door. All that calm and collected composure had been unraveling from the moment everyone landed back in Korea, or maybe even in the time frame before that, and the cold hard truth that things might not be the same when you returned eats at his nerves. He doesn't think twice to grab his keys, his bag, literally anything he could get his hands on as he swings open the door of the dormitory.

He ignores the calls of Namjoon and Jimin, vaguely making out the sound of Seokjin chiding Jungkook for encouraging this reckless behavior of the older boy, but Yoongi doesn't care. He doesn't care about any of that. The only thing he can wrap his mind around are the hateful words he spit at you, like fire that burned across your skin and left the most visible of scars underneath the glimmer of your eyes. The flickering, tiny hope that he could get you to understand the weight of his guilt and hopefully forgive him or at least look at him without that hurt look in your eyes keeps his legs moving.

But still, there are so many reasons for him to be doubtful.

His song to you, while it had come from a place of need and longing to finally share the words that have buried him alive since the breakup, only seemed to drive you further and further away.

And now you were going to America. You hadn’t even bothered to tell him. Yoongi doesn’t know why he’s so bothered by that, but he had been hoping that even if you were still wary about the thought of him, the pair of you could still continue on being friends and exchanging the most basic of good news with one another. Like normal friends should or, at least, what normal friends should be capable of doing with one another.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he continues pounding his way down the steps of the apartment, too caught up in his own little world of anxiety and desperation and regret that he doesn't hear the sound of footsteps following very shortly behind him. It's only after he has quickly arranged an Uber to take him to the airport and has shouldered open the door of the apartment complex does he feel a hand on his shoulder that startles him out of his trance. He whips around to find Seokjin staring at him, wide-eyed and confused. Yoongi doesn’t blame the older boy. The overwhelming presentation of information must have been too much for all the boys to absorb in just a matter of thirty seconds, especially with all the broken fragments of sounds and hasty accusations he and Jungkook were throwing at one another. Yoongi vaguely wonders if any of the boys are pinning after Jungkook with demands to know the background of the situation, since it's more than obvious that the maknae has just as much of a hand in the situation as Yoongi, if not just a little bit more since it's Jungkook who knew you were going to America in the first place and it was Jungkook who knew all of your flight information.

Yoongi tries to shove Seokjin off, but the eldest keeps his hand tightly wrapped around the shoulder blade. “Hyung, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Seokjin repeats, appalled. “What are you doing? Are you really chasing after Y/N now? You're insane!”

Yoongi shoves him away. “Look, Seokjin, I’m a fucking idiot okay? I know it’s a lot of information to take in such a short period of time, but I need you to understand this. Please. I need you to understand that I did something horrible to Y/N and she won’t even look at me, and if I let her go on that plane believing that I hated her and continue to hate her with every fiber of my being then I don’t think I could ever even begin to forgive myself. Please. Just let me do this.”

Seokjin’s eyes are the stormiest shade of brown that Yoongi has ever seen in his hyung. It looks like he has a whole round of protests and realistic statements that he wishes he could make. Yoongi doesn’t know what his own eyes look like, but they feel wide and he can feel the pleading in his own heartbeat. He has never longed for something more desperately than Seokjin’s approval, and that sensation is like a beating drum underneath his fingertips as he swallows and keeps his eyes on Seokjin just as Seokjin keeps his eyes on him.

Finally, Seokjin releases his hold on Yoongi. “Don’t do anything stupid,” He grunts, then sighs. “Stupider, I mean.”

Yoongi turns around and realizes that the Uber he has just called is sitting at the corner curb, a few footsteps from where Yoongi current stands. He turns back to Seokjin and musters the best smile he can manage. But the situation the boy has currently found himself makes the back of his throat tastes like bitter acid and it leaves him wanting to cry and throw up and scream all at the same time.

A wary look back from Seokjin tells him that perhaps the smile looks more like a grimace, but Seokjin doesn’t comment on it and neither does Yoongi, as he finally dashes across the courtyard towards where the Uber is and throws himself into the backseat. He lowers the cap of his hat, and tells the driver to take him to the airport.

He drums his fingers as soon as the car starts moving, shaking his legs, training his eyes nervously out the window as he watches the city lights of his town flash right before his eyes. He checks his phone, reads through your flight information to gather the time that your flight would be leaving the city, and feels like his heart might give out when he realizes that there is still two hours until your flight is set to leave. He momentarily thanks the unspoken rule that individuals flying international are recommended to arrive at least three hours before boarding.

The lurch of the car jerks Yoongi forward immediately as he shifts his gaze from the side window to the front glass between the driver and passenger seat, eyes widening when he sees the rows of red lights in front of him, stretching out for what seems like miles and smiles ahead of him. “What is this?” He snaps with a little more force than necessary.

The driver gives him a look over the shoulder. “Sorry, but the traffic's pretty bad around this time. According to the GPS, it’ll probably take an extra thirty to forty-five minutes to get to the airport. Seems like lots of other people are trying to get out of the city huh?” She’s clearly attempting some humor, if only to ease the stiffness that seems to be permanently stitched into Yoongi’s shoulders, but it only makes his anxiety of the situation worsen.

Maybe he really should have considered Seokjin’s warning before getting into the car.

Don’t do anything stupid. Stupider, at least. That’s what Seokjin had said. And now Yoongi finds himself caught in the middle of the late night weekend traffic. All because he hadn’t checked the time, or thought through the mapping of his situation, or tried to consider alternatives. If alternatives were even an option at this point.

Why did he always have a tendency to lose his mind at the very thought of you? Why did you always have a way of controlling his mind, even when he thought that the time and distance two years had carved would be enough to ease that natural ability you had obtained over the years? Why did he always do stupid things, really stupid things, just for you or because of you?

Yoongi grits his teeth, physically having to restrain himself from barking at the poor driver to go faster even if the physicality from the realms of reality will not allow for such a move. He settles instead with slumping against his seat, running a hand through his hair and letting the time slip past him as he alternates with checking the time on his phone to the time of your flight, only growing increasingly more anxious when real time ticks closer and closer to the 8:00PM flight of your departure. It feels like his mind is going through the shredder, running through honey, drowning out all sounds, as his heart pounds in a way that resonates through the entirety of his body. He can barely make out his driver’s few attempts to make conversation, managing the occasional hums every now and then—and she’s such a talker, Yoongi doubts that she even notices his distracted mindset.

The driver reaches the airport at 7:23PM, and Yoongi is a mad dash and a blur of shadow that finds him dashing out of the car before it comes to a complete stop. He throws more cash than necessary into the passenger seat, too hasty to think about the proper tip he should supply, before he’s out and dashing past the sliding doors into the check-in zone. Lines file out before him for different airlines, the chatter of people not enough to calm the bizarre storm in his mind, the stares and murmurs of immediate recognition leaving him feeling more exposed than ever before.

It is right then and there that Yoongi realizes that in his haste to leave the dorms and get to the airport as quickly as possible, he had forgotten to get in contact with Big Hit to tell him of his whereabouts. He had forgotten that while he may have just been Yoongi out in the private world he shared with the rest of Bangtan and the world he shared with you, things are different out here. In the real world, he's Min Yoongi of the highly popular and highly successful Bangtan Boys, a celebrity of an entirely different level. Stepping out in the way is the same as exposing himself so completely in the face of nosy strangers and fans, paparazzi, all of those little thing he always hated about the life he has inherited coming back to haunt him with the full force of a lightning bolt.

Since he hadn't contacted Big Hit to arrange security or bodyguards, the only people beyond the walls of the studio and the walls of your apartment that could make him feel safe to a certain extent, being alone in the middle of a busy airport makes him feel more lonely than ever before.

He hears the frantic scrambling of people before he can see them, and his legs act of their own accord as he takes down the walkway, dashing past people with suitcases and families awaiting the announcement of their own flight as the screaming behind him increases in volume. "It's Min Yoongi! It's Min Yoongi!" The statement rings like a bell in his ears as he runs, mind scrambling and his lungs feel like they might give out because he most certainly hadn't been expecting to have a run in with fans during his hasty attempts to reach you. If he had known he would be recognized at the drop of a hat, he might have put a little more thought into his decisions.

But again, another classic example of how he could never seen to get his head screwed on straight when it came to you.

Airport security eventually starts to pick up that a celebrity has arrived without warning, without prior arrangement, and they scramble to assign Yoongi in keeping some distance from the screaming girls and fans attempting to shove themselves and their cameras past the bodies. Yoongi feels the terror in his blood, more prominent than ever, because he's never had to shoulder the fright of the BTS fan base on his own. It feels constricting, air leaving his lungs in quick pants as he practically throws himself in the hall of bathrooms, the empty stalls leaving him the opportunity to hunch over the sink.

"Min Yoongi?" A voice calls, echoing along the bathroom as the footsteps follow the movement. A security guard enters the main vicinity, watching as Yoongi attempts to catch his breath.

Yoongi lets out a sigh as he brushes the sweat gathering over his forehead. His skin feels hot to the touch. "Y-Yeah," He manages. "That's me."

"What were you thinking?" The older man inquires, looking incredulous. "Those girls could have ripped your throat out if they got close enough. What are you doing here, arriving without any security of your own or the management of your label?"

"I came here of my own accord," Yoongi explains, straightening slightly as he leans against the counter. "I'm trying to get to someone before her flight takes off." He fishes out his phone and checks the time, nearly paling at the sight. "Which leaves in fifteen minutes." He looks up at the security guard. "Please. You have to help me get to that flight. There's someone about to leave, and I really need to talk to her."

The security guard shifts in his position. "A girlfriend or something?" He must see the defensive flicker in Yoongi's eyes, because he actually throws a smile. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that. It's just that I've never seen anything like this happen before, and I am curious how important this person must be if you need to reach her so badly."

Yoongi runs his hands over each other, feeling the rough skin underneath his touch. "Not a girlfriend," He grumbles. "It's, well, it's complicated. Please. I just need to see her one more time. Do you think you'll be able to make it work for me?"

"Of course we'll try to make it work," The security guard reassures. "I know you can hear them right now, but there is a herd of screaming girls outside the bathroom right now, so it's going to take some time to get more people over here so we can help you reach wherever it is you're going as quickly as possible. You're stuck here in the airport anyways, and you must have come here for a very important purpose.”

Yoongi takes in a few more deep breaths, trying to put a positive spin on the situation, and cursing when he realizes that he's never had too much of a sunshine filter. That kind of title was always reserved for Jimin or Taehyung. Or you.

The bitter tang comes back into his mouth, as does the reminder of the reason he had been forced into this position in the first place. He doesn't ever wish for many things in his life, with the exception of just a handful of extremely important things, but he so desperately wishes that he can reach you in time.

What Yoongi thinks: You probably don't understand how much I need to reach her, but I need to see her so badly it feels as if every bone in my body is breaking underneath the pressure and I've never felt more shitty about anything else in my entire life. If you fucked up your only relationship with the only person you've ever loved more than anything in your life, would you be as calm? Would you have been as thoughtless or careless or reckless to chase after someone so important?

What Yoongi says: "T-Thank you. The sooner I can reach her, the better."

The security guard manages a smile that doesn't give Yoongi the utmost confidence in the situation. The man leaves Yoongi with a final, “I’ll be back as soon as I can" before he disappears out of the bathroom vicinity. Even from where Yoongi stands, he can hear the high pitched screams increasing in volume, making his headache return in full force as he settles with pacing the area, taking in the empty stalls and feeling the time gradually start to slip out from underneath his feet.

He would check his phone every now and then to check the time, blatantly ignoring the other texts and missed calls he has gotten from the other members, knowing that he would get an earful from the boys about his suddenly reckless nature. It's like all of those previous times Yoongi would actually put effort into his thoughts was just adding up for the unfortunate disaster, like a line of consistent thoughts before the storm of reckless abandonment and disregard for everything within reason. Yoongi never thought it would fold out like this, however.

The ten minutes on the clock stares back at him, the time going by much too quickly and much too slowly all at the same time. He wants the security guards to work faster on their promise, or he was going to make a rush for the gate number regardless if the screaming fans were set on tearing him apart limb by limb. He wants the time until your departure to slow down until the blinking of his cell phone is something he no longer has to worry about. He wants everything and nothing and absolutely all those things in between, he wants things to go his way for once, he wants to make things better and right.

But most of all, he just wants you again.

He checks his phone again. Five minutes.

The security guard comes strolling back in as if it's not Yoongi's relationship with the only person who could make him feel grounded is completely at stake. "We're ready now. Which gate is your girlfriend at?"

Yoongi doesn't make a point to try and correct the older man as he says the number set that has practically been burned into his mind and his throat, saying it before he could even stop to think. "It's Gate 42."

The suddenly hesitate look in his eyes doesn't do good things to Yoongi's stomach. "I hear that flight is scheduled for an earlier departure. We better get going."

And so the pair of them depart from the bathroom, Yoongi emerging first and discovering a handful of other airport security either helping clear the area for him to walk through or standing near him for the additional protection. Even though the gesture is rather small, the gravity of it feels like miles of gratuity for Yoongi and he manages the best smile he can muster to the workers as they lead him to gate 42. The screams of fans as they try to poke their head around the guards is almost drowned out by Yoongi's own rushing feet as he paces as quickly as he can down the halls without actually having to run.

He reads the gates in the back of his mind, heart stopping for an earth shattering second when he sees gate 42. He half expects it to be littered with passengers, since there's still another three minutes before the flight is scheduled to leave and of course, last minute passengers should still be boarding. Right?

Instead, he finds the guest area completely devoid of people, not even lingering individuals on their phones or laptops. The sight doesn't do good things to his insides, as he completely freezes in his tracks, letting the panic wash over him like water.

He catches movement of the hostess closing the door leading onto the plane, and feels a burst of movement overcome him as he practically throws himself onto the desk and startles the woman out of her usual closing up routine. "I need to speak to someone on this flight," He says by way of greeting, social norms of proper introduction be damn. This is what happens when he doesn't get the opportunity to rehearse at least the basis of a statement in his mind before letting the words just leave his mouth with no filter whatsoever. "It's important, please."

The hostess gives him a look of complete and utter sympathy. "I'm sorry sir, but the crew inside just finished their final flight check, and are scheduled for an immediate departure. They've already lifted the connecting tube."

"What?" Yoongi inquires, his voice too breathless from the way his heart is suddenly pounding blood excessively through his body, his mind too hazy, his eyes wide, ears trying to strain in order to catch every single word that is leaving the woman's lips. "No, no, no, please, please, it's really important."

Her suddenly sad expression feels like the weight of the entire world has just been dropped clean onto Yoongi's shoulders. "I'm so sorry sir. I would love to help you, but there's nothing I can do right now."

Yoongi opens his mouth to protest again, but what could he say? All the pleading and begging in the world cannot possibly bring you back, cannot generate enough pity for a captain to turn an entire plane around. No one on the flight would appreciate such a gesture either. Everyone has places to go, people to see, countries to visit, jobs to take.

Just like you, and you would leave the soils and the base of Korea thinking that Yoongi did not love you enough or did not care enough or did not need you enough.

The weight of that realization makes it feel as if his heart has been replaced with a stone, as he can physically monitor the sensation of it sinking to the pit of his stomach. He bends his head lower, swallowing thickly, inhaling sharply as his heart beat quickens for reasons beyond running throughout the airport, his face heats up with something other than anger, throat closing up because he missed it. He missed you.

"W-Well," The hostess continues, the sight of seeing Min Yoongi so distraught over missing a flight clearly deepening the knife of guilt further into her chest. "You are more than welcome to watch the plane leave."

It's the last thing Yoongi wants to see, but he appreciates the hostess at least attempting to be kind. He can't muster anything other than a short and simple thank you as he drags himself to the window and presses his hands to the glass just in time to see the plane disembarking from its original standpoint. He gnaws harshly at his bottom lip as he watches the plane direct its way onto the straightaway, picking up speed, dashing down the highway, soaring up and up and up, away from the ground and Yoongi watches with the heaviest heart as it disappears into the sky.

He brings his hands back down to his side, shutting his eyes tightly together to block out the tears and the ringing of failure in his ears and the fact that the worst possible scenario he just thought of has actually happened. He thinks of how you must have looked boarding that plane, thinking with all your heart that you were only worth the string of letters and words he could rap in your ear and nothing more, that you were only worth the phrases of his past and not his present and definitely not his future.

You have left, and he honestly cannot say with much certainty as to how things are going to be when you get back. He tries to picture a world in which you’ve allowed the distance to create a wall, an emotional barrier, between the pair of you. He tries to picture a world where you’ll smile at him but not really smile at him, where you’ll hug him stiffly, and tell him of your endeavors with the same application you would bring to a complete stranger.

The thought absolutely crushes him, stresses him beyond belief. He knows how you get when you’re angry. You detach yourself from situations, you leave for a few hours, and you return with the intention of trying to pretend as if nothing had happened—staying away from the vocal art of talking things out that you’ve struggled with for years. But during those incidents, the situations were never so terrible, and you and Yoongi always found ways around those seemingly insignificant issues.

But now it’s of a completely different scale, and it’s not like he has the power to fallback to a nonexistent relationship to ensure that the pair of you could work through these differences.

He’s never felt more devastated about anything, training his eyes back onto the sky as if the plane would merge from behind the clouds. But of course, it doesn’t, leaving little doubt in his mind that he’s failed and he’s failed you and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do anymore.

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It would be another hour before Min Yoongi is allowed to leave the airport. Big Hit is contacted during the frenzy, and they arrive shortly after the plane holding you and Yoongi’s heart has disappeared into the sky. It takes awhile to clear things up with press and publicity as everyone wants a different answer to the exact same question: Why was Min Yoongi at the airport? Who was he chasing? Why was he chasing this individual?

Management hides themselves well, telling everyone with a practiced grace that questions pertaining to Yoongi’s emotional state were strictly forbidden. Yoongi does not bother to help with these questions, electing instead to keep to the corner, hunched over in a chair, the hair over his face and the mental replay of the last few hours leaves him completely numb.

He keeps his mouth shut, refusing to indulge about his reasons for running off so recklessly, even when he is safe in the Big Hit company car and questioned by various members of management. It’s unusual for Yoongi to hold himself so quietly, especially after such an extreme incident, but no one presses the topic. Yoongi doesn’t know what he had been expecting, since he cannot stress just how little thought he had put into his evening, but an earful would have been the kind way out. The fact that no one is saying anything about the situation leaves him to believe that perhaps he looks much worse than he had initially thought—and that’s not a comforting thought to ride in silence with. A part of him longs to say something, to ease the tension in the air, but no one makes a shift of movement, and the car ride back to the dorm is probably one of the most awkward in Yoongi’s entire career with Big Hit.

Yoongi can barely spare a means of thanks or a glance over his shoulder before stepping out of the car. The heaviness in his heart at the loss of his utter defeat feels like weights drifting out throughout the rest of his body, equating to a sluggish movement of his feet as he attempts his way up the stairs.

He is so caught up in the hazy events of what exactly has happened to him, even though it's all beginning to feel like a very strange and deluded dream, that he nearly forgets that there are people waiting for him as soon as he unlocks the door to the dorms.

He starts as soon as the first greeting bombards past his thoughts, piercing into his mind, turning to deliver a wide-eyed glance at the boys are gathered around the table. The six pairs of eyes once pierced on Jungkook have swapped to the boy now standing at the door, all expressing the same emotion of curiosity and wonder and all clearly expecting some positive news after all that hassle. “So?” Taehyung inquires, wide-eyed. “Did you reach Y/N in time? What did she say?”

Yoongi collapses into his seat, the emotional drainage finally starting to catch up to him. “She didn’t say anything,” He discloses, keeping his eyes trained on one of the cracks in the wooden table. Didn’t Seokjin mention something about having to get that fixed up?

Jimin looks confused. “What do you mean she didn’t say anything? You mean she rejected you?”

He curses his reeling mind, his sinking heart, his closing throat for hurting him and betraying him when he needed to be confident in front of the others. “It means,” He speaks with a little more force than necessary, the action causing his voice to crack. “That I didn’t make it in time.”

The silence that follows his unexpected confession rings throughout the room as each of the boy’s process the information. Too afraid to see what kind of looks he’s going to get, Yoongi forces himself to turn his gaze as he gnaws on his lower lip and the walls of defense he’s spent the past hour building up comes burning down in one swift statement.

“You mean…” Jungkook inquires softly. “You missed the plane?”

“Y-Yeah,” Yoongi answers, turning his head as far away from the others and their stares as he can physically manage, blinking the tears before it could start falling down his cheeks. It’s a hard sight to not notice, but he’s thankful none of the boys bring it up or point it up or ask for further details: such as what happened when he got to the airport, why was he held up, or how he had gotten back home. “I missed it.”

Feeling as if he might suffocate on the air around him, Yoongi straightens and dismisses himself from the table with the excuse that he longed for nothing more than to take a shower and curl into bed. The whispers from the other boys seem to follow him out of the kitchen like the plague, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if they start taking sides or forming personal opinions about how Yoongi should carry out the next course of action. All he really cares about now is you. And you’re gone.

The amount of stress that has been eating at him ever since he let himself spill out those horrible, horrible words makes him think he might collapse or vomit or fling himself off a bridge or scream or just do anything. He can’t even count how many times he’s skipped meals or missed the opportunity to catch a few hours of sleep simply because he just laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling. All the self-hatred takes itself out on him, leaving him and sick and tired but providing little opportunities of ways around the problem.

He knows what tomorrow will bring, as he steps into the bathroom and settles with locking the door and just sinking to the floor. Tomorrow will bring questions from Big Hit, questions that he will have to answer, questions regarding truth and reason and most importantly, you. It means admitting his love for you, admitting that evening in Beijing and the words following that changed everything.

Yoongi looks down at his hands, lacing fingers together as he tries to picture the next morning. He pictures sitting in the conference room, everyone staring at him and attempting to draw the answers out as to what exactly drew Yoongi cause so much trouble. Would he do it? Would he come clean with his feelings for you and risk the standing of his career just to express that love?

He swallows thickly when the answer seems to jump out at him. Yes.

Yes, of course he would come clean with his feelings. He would scream about it from the top of his lungs, future scandal rumors from websites and nosy fans be damned. Anything to get you to return with the willingness to listen to him, anything to get you to return and commit to Big Hit again, anything, anything, anything.

He tightens his grip around his jeans, everything around him feel tighter and more constricting and he lowers his head, choking on another sob. He wonders if this is what the weight of missed opportunities feels like, the ‘what-ifs’ brewing in his mind like poison as he knocks the back of his head against the door of the bathroom. For a blinding moment, he hates the airport, he hates the screaming girls, he hates security, he hates you; but most of all, he just hates himself.

It takes him thirty minutes too long to take a shower—or should it be called a shower or more of ‘just standing and letting the hot water run down his back’ type of situation. Either way, it takes way too long and it’s nowhere as satisfying as he had pictured.

The boys are still in the kitchen when Yoongi steps through, a towel in his hair, and the halting conversation leaves little to the imagination of what they all had been previously discussing.

“How do you feel now, hyung?” Jimin asks gently.

Yoongi shrugs, not exactly sure how to categorize the desensitized sensation that almost makes he think he won’t be able to feel his stomach in the morning.

“W-Well,” Jimin continues, watching Yoongi settle back into the chair he had previously occupied. “Y/N should be back after a week, right—?”

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat. “A-Actually, she doesn’t have a confirmed return date.” He hastily continues filling in the blanks on the rest of the statement after catching Yoongi’s look that makes him feel as if he’s just kicked the older boy’s dog. “S-She didn’t know if she would get the job or not. And she told me she might want to explore the city before turning back.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything to that. He simply supplies Jungkook with a side glance, before turning back to scrolling mindlessly through his phone. The action doesn’t sit well with the rest of the boys, who exchange glances like exchanging secrets, before it’s Namjoon who is volunteered to speak next.

“Hyung, maybe you should call her and tell her how you feel over the phone,” Namjoon starts delicately. “It might not bring her back faster, but at least there’ll be an open line of communication—!”

“No,” Yoongi interrupts, straightening up pocketing his phone. He’s still not making complete eye contact with any of the boys, who are all desperately trying to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to burden her right now.”

“But…” Jimin brings up, but a look from Seokjin halts the rest of the conversation, and they all watch as Yoongi drags himself to his bedroom and clicks the door quietly behind him.

.

One week later is met with the blaring of Jungkook’s cellphone and a ringtone that positively echoes throughout the entirety of the dorm. It’s not an ordinary ringtone for an ordinary person, however, it’s one that had been assigned with a certain caller that makes Jungkook spring out of his seat and practically divebomb for the object on the coffee table. “Noona!” He answers at once, and the boys around him halt all their conversations and the video game Hoseok had put on is instantly forgotten.

“Jungkook, hi!” You exclaim on the other side of the line. “How’s it going over there?”

“It’s good,” He answers after a moment, sneaking a glance at Yoongi only to find that the older boy has devoted one hundred and ten percent of unnecessary concentration onto his phone. “How’s it going with you? How did the job interview go?”

“Ah, it went amazing!” You gush at once, all that previous sadness he had left you with relatively gone. “I got the job.”

“Oh wow, congratulations noona!” Jungkook exclaims, sending a nod to Namjoon when the boys ask a question with their eyes. “So they put you to work immediately, huh?”

“Pretty much,” You admit with a sigh. “I meant to call sooner, but I’ve been spending the whole week getting an apartment and getting a work visa, you know all that fun stuff. I don’t actually start working until next week so I’ve just been running around.”

“That does sound pretty exhausting noona,” Jungkook admits, casting another look at Yoongi and electing to stare this time until the older boy returned his gaze. “I’m really happy for you, though.”

“Thank you Jungkook.”

He smiles at the genuine earnesty behind your voice, how truly happy you are and how truly oblivious you are to what you’ve left behind. Jungkook bites his lip. “N-Noona,” He starts a little nervously. “I know now may not be the best time but… I feel like there’s something you need to know.”

He can physically feel the tension in the air start to rise, as if everyone can sense the direction the conversation is heading in. Even Yoongi jerks his head up, the first sharp movement he’s produced since you left Korea. “Jungkook,” Yoongi cuts in sharply. “Don’t.”

“What?” You inquire from the other end of the line. “Jungkook, you’re scaring me. What happened? Is everyone okay?”

“It’s about what happened the night you left,” He continues.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi repeats. “Stay out of it.”

For a moment, Jungkook can hear your voice lowering on the other end of the line. “Is that Yoongi?” You ask, voice quietening considerably.

“Y-Yeah, he’s here,” Jungkook says, leaning back when it looks like Yoongi’s about to blow off his top and manhandle Jungkook off a cliff. Given that the past week has been filled with nothing but vacant stares and curling underneath the covers of his bed until noon, the sight of seeing Yoongi suddenly filled with aggression and negative energy is both an interesting yet terrifying sight to witness. “Noona, you should know. The night you left, I went back to the dorms and—hey!”

Jungkook throws an incredulous look at Yoongi as the older boy practically springs out of his seat and confronts the maknae with all the force of a bullet train. With a strength no one could have seen coming, Yoongi pries the phone out of Jungkook’s hands and hangs up with a forceful jab to the end call button.

All the boys are giving Yoongi a wide-eyed look at the violent gesture of the older boy as Yoongi stands above Jungkook, cell phone clenched tightly in Yoongi’s hand. “H-Hyung…” Jungkook is the first to speak, not having expected the movement.

Yoongi’s glare at Jungkook could scare away small children. “I told you to drop it Jungkook,” He says, voice low. However, even with the angry disposition, it’s easy to see that underneath the layer of aggression is just a version of Yoongi who is too small and too afraid and too desperate to look beyond into a future without you. Underneath all that is just Yoongi trying to hide away from the emotional despair in favor trying to make sure the ‘what-ifs’ would stop haunting him like ghosts of the past. Yoongi emits a sigh when the worried looks of his friends would not let up. “Look, I’ll call her when I’m ready, but you don’t need to fight my battles for me, okay? I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”

He offers the phone back to Jungkook, and Jungkook takes it without another word.

.

Bangtan makes a mutual agreement not to bring up the phone call, mainly out of respect for Yoongi’s own time and willingness to indulge in the subject manner, but also out of fear that slipping out one word involving you would evoke another spark of volcanic eruption on Yoongi’s part.

However, it cannot be helped that the question slips out once or twice—mainly on Namjoon or Jungkook’s part, light-hearted attempts to monitor Yoongi’s emotional state to make sure he wouldn’t do anything too stupid or jump too far off the spectrum. Yoongi typically answers the same way he always does: a glare, a quiet “not yet” or “soon”, and a drop of the conversation entirely.

They all almost think that Yoongi would never give you a call, or never bring you up again, or hide his emotions so deeply underneath the surface until it would come flooding out of him like a dam, until one afternoon when the boy returning back from his afternoon session at the studio. The boy seems surprisingly more upbeat than per usual, a shift in the emotional gear that is immediately taken note of by Jungkook.

“Hey Hyung,” Jungkook greets as he gently pushes forward the bag of chips he had been eating as a casual offering to the older boy. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Yoongi answers with a shrug of one shoulder. “I called Y/N today.”

Jungkook straightens in his seat, as does the others within the vicinity. “Did you really?”

He smiles a little, a gesture that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s so much better than the harsh glares that the household has witnessed over the past few weeks that nobody pays any attention to that.

“C’mon hyung, what did she say?” Jimin inquires brightly, poking his head into the kitchen after making sure to put a pause on the video game he had been indulging with Taehyung.

“We didn’t really talk much,” Yoongi replies vaguely, running his fingers across the patterns of the table. “I just… uh, apologized again for what I said. And she forgave me.”

“That’s great hyung!” Jungkook exclaims.

“Y-Yeah.” Yoongi still isn’t looking at anyone. “She, uh, said that she had a lot of time to think about… us while in America and thought that hooking up had been a little reckless for us too. There was a bit more talking, but she said that we could talk about it when she comes back to Korea.”

“So you guys are going to talk about it?” Jimin inquires, brightening as the words seem to sink into his mind. “Hyung, that’s awesome! I’m glad you guys were able to clear the air up.”

Yoongi produces forth a tight smile that no one else seems to notice, given that they’re probably too caught up in their little excitement over the fact that Yoongi finally seemed to mend the bridge that initially appeared too burned down to care for properly. He does one more nod before excusing himself to his bedroom, where he shuts the door and slides down to the floor. Yoongi doesn’t do anything for the quick flicker of a second, merely settling with staring up at the ceiling, before he fishes out his phone from his back pocket.

He opens up his phone app, scrolling through the call history button, thumb lingering over and eyes trained hard on the fact that his most recent call had been to Seokjin. One week ago. You are nowhere on his call history and have not been on his call history for the past two years.

He thinks back to his story with the boys—how their eyes had been coated with excitement and relief, how they seemed to have rid themselves of the sympathetic look in their gaze that seemed to be permanently etched everytime one of them looked at Yoongi. To say he grew tired of their worries, as reasonable as it truly is, would be an understatement.

And besides, it may have been a lie—but it’s not like they would find out the truth, and it’s not like you were coming back soon, and even if you did he would reach you before the boys before his lie could unravel. Min Yoongi knows what he’s doing. He’s just trying to get through the next few months of his life.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | epilogue

[imagine-the-universe]

Museum Heist

Summary: The reader is very unlucky, but thankfully Spider-Man is always around to save the day

Characters: Spider-Man

Word Count: 2,122

Author’s Note: My New Year’s resolution is to write more. And therefore, there will probably be a second part to this, depending on how well it goes over.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Field trips were the absolute best. At least that was what you had thought BEFORE you and your classmates had gotten caught up in the middle of an attempted museum heist. And who was the lucky one who had accidentally tripped and caused the contents of the woman's bag to go spilling across the floor? You were. And who was the one who had caused the alarm to go off because she fell too close to something expensive? Yes, it was you, once again.

So now the security guard was facedown on the floor and you were cowering in the corner behind an 18th century vase that had to be worth more than your entire apartment complex, hoping that you would just be left alone. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the reactions of your classmates. Your art teacher was surrounded by a few students, one of whom was clinging to his leg with an expression of abject horror. You swore you saw Flash Thompson crying as he used one of his friends as a human shield.  Most others, however, were in between the mix of utter shock and complete terror. You yourself were trying to calm your fluttering heart by doing deep breathing yoga from the DVDs your mom made you watch over Thanksgiving break. And you were trying not to think about the fact that you really had to pee.

There were only two would-be thieves— a man and a woman, both of whom revealed themselves to be enhanced individuals. His scream left everyone in the room dropping anything they were holding and covering their ears, and with a single flick of her wrist, the guard's gun was flying into her hands and the doors slammed shut. While their plan worked to keep the police out, it also was pretty efficient in keeping them in.

The woman clicked something on the gun. "Alright me and my partner are getting out of here, WITH what we intended to grab. Any ideas?"

There was no noise save for from the opposite side of the door.

"Okay, I guess people would rather I begin shooting this gun, and I'm telling you now, I have terrible aim." She clicked something on the gun. "Now does anyone want to talk?"

You could see her partner's concerned glance, but he said nothing.

Still, the room was silent and the woman sighed dramatically. "Fine. I guess we're doing it the hard way." There was another click as she tossed the gun towards her partner. "Alright Mason, grab a hostage and let's get this shit show on the road."

You could cut the tension with a knife. You held your breath as the guy looked back and forth between the gun and the woman before finally spitting out a sentence. "Jesus, Shay. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Your breath escaped and you started breathing again, slightly comforted by the fact that at least of them was not inclined to violence.

'Shay' stomped her foot and rolled her eyes, "Oh grow up. Do you want to go back to jail?" There was a shout and a thud--  you jolted and hit your head on the pot you were hiding behind. The guard had tried to take advantage of their distracted state and knock the woman over the head, but she had moved quickly, and sent him flying across the room.

A painting of a farmhouse bore the brunt of his weight, and you could see your teacher physically flinch as it clattered to the floor. Shouting started from behind the door and an older woman who was taking shelter behind a golden statue shrieked and began muttering in Spanish.  Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo...

There was an echoing BANG! More shouting and screams left you holding your head and shrinking even further behind the vase. You weren’t entirely sure what had happened, but with the context, you had to guess that the gun had been fired (hopefully not at someone). But you didn’t even let yourself go down that train of thought.

You squeezed your eyes tightly together and hoped that the police had somehow broken down the door.

But then the woman with the powers shouted, “Shut up!” and you knew that they hadn’t.

“Now where’s the little brat that tripped me?”

Your heart stopped. The blood roared in your ears, drowning out any responses that may have occurred, but you could see Flash not hesitate in throwing a quivering finger in your direction.  

There were footsteps that seemed greatly exaggerated in the dead silence of the room and they only seemed to grow louder, and louder, and louder, until there was a shadow cast over your little corner. It was like someone had reached into your stomach and was tying knots into your intestines and then pulling on them. The bagel and cream cheese that you had eaten quickly on the bus was starting to force its way back up. Maybe if you threw up they would be too disgusted to be mad anymore.

Someone latched onto your upper arm and drug you out from your hiding spot. You swallowed and mustered up enough courage to look up.

"Today's your unlucky day, kiddo." Shay was staring down at you with a crazed look in her eyes. You had seen that kind of look before in the cats that lived in the alley beside your apartment. It usually indicated some kind of ferality, and you knew to stay far away. In humans it was much scarier. The bagel came back up.

There was a collective groan. "Disgusting," Shay muttered. "I hate kids." You were hardly a kid, but who were you to correct a crazy woman with a gun. "Mason, help me with this."

You whipped your head over to her accomplice who was steadily turning a shade of white that Frosty the Snowman would be envious of. "I didn't sign up for all this. I thought we were just going to grab the goods and get out."

"Well, plans have changed, thanks to this one." She pulled your wrist and dragged you closer to her. "Do what you want, but I'm getting out of here, one way or another." You had just enough time to register her words before the doors crashed open and cops flooded through.

Several more screams were accompanied by shouts of "get on the ground!" And "drop it". You were jostled and pushed around, but when something cold and metallic rested against your temple, you froze. Based on the terrified looks of everyone else in the room, you knew exactly what was happening.

"Everyone freeze!" Her voice was way too calm to be attached to someone who was currently holding a gun against your head. No one moved. "Great. Now we're going to leave. I'm taking what I came for, and you're not going to follow me, otherwise you're going to have this brat's blood on your hands." She kept the gun firmly pressed to your skull and took several steps backwards, dragging you alongside her. With several clanks, her knapsack flew towards you, and by her command, you held it tightly. "And Mason? Screw you."

From his position under a policeman, Mason narrowed his eyes and mouthed a word that would have made your great-grandmother say a prayer for his soul. Shay laughed and continued stepping backwards until you were both out of the view of everyone in the room.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to hold onto you and my stuff until we're out of here. And if you vomit again, I will shoot." You jerked your head up and down. And then your feet were no longer touching the ground. Instead, they dangled as you grappled for some sort of grip. But then you were on solid ground again, this time several stories above the street. As you struggled to catch your breath, you felt her release you and snatch her bag from your hands.

With great apprehension, you watched as she examined the contents. Apparently satisfied, Shay strode to the edge of the roof and looked over it. "Those idiots," she muttered. "Why does no one ever look up?"

"I do!"

Your head snapped up quick enough to catch a glimpse of a red and blue blur fly overhead and land in between you and Shay. The Spider-Man? Yes. He was shorter than you imagined him to be, and skinnier too, but his suit was unmistakable. There was a flurry of movement and something shiny flew over the edge of the roof.

"You won't be needing that!" He flipped backwards and she stumbled forwards. You could see now that he had encased Shay's hands in webs causing her to nearly fall on her face, but she was able to dig in her heels and send a glass bottle flying in his direction. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Spider-Man to lose his focus and for Shay to free herself.

She sent a fleet of wooden crates in your direction with a wild gesture. The thought of dropping to your stomach briefly crossed your mind, but you had no chance to act. Spider-Man launched himself in front of you, kicked through one of the crates, and launched his webs at another pair. You ducked and covered your head as splintered wood rained down around you.

"Hey, that's not yours!" You dared to look up, just in time for you to see Spider-Man yanking Shay's bag out of her hands.

She shoved both hands downwards and launched herself into the air overtop of his head. "Mind your own business, Spider-kid." Now in between you and your safety, you scooted backwards using the heels of your hands, not minding the broken glass and wood that stabbed into your flesh. "Hand it over and she won't get hurt." You managed to dodge her first lunge, but she quickly forced you over to her. Spider-Man shouted as you were held by the front of your shirt over the edge of the roof.

You could feel gravity working against you.

Shay was stronger than she looked, as she somehow kept your feet from completely slipping off the ledge while your arms waved wildly. You hoped that your shirt was strong enough to hold your entire weight. Below, there were shouts and screams and you knew that you had been spotted. If you were going to die in front of a crowd of people, why did it have to be in such an embarrassing way? Why couldn't it be after saving a baby from being hit by a car? Or stopping a mugging?

You tried not to look down, but the curiosity was too great.

From your blurred vision, you could see a crowd of people gathered below, growing larger by the moment. You assumed that some of them were your classmates and groaned— if you lived, Flash was dead.

You presumed that Spider-Man and Shay were having some sort of stand-off that you weren't privvy to. The wind was just strong enough to limit your hearing (or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your body). But then there was no longer a hand gripping your shirt and your vision tunneled.  You could feel gravity taking over and there was nothing you could do from preventing yourself from falling over the edge.

What was probably a few seconds felt like an eternity of falling. You must have blacked out, because the next thing you knew, you were swinging gracefully through the air instead of going splat against the sidewalk. When you felt something solid beneath your feet again, you managed to open your eyes just the slightest.

“Are you okay?” Spider-Man tilted his head and stared at you with what you could only imagine was concern.  You stared at him mutely. “Are you hurt?” There was another silent moment as you swallowed dryly. Remembering your now-stinging hands, you looked down at them and shrugged. You would live. Now, at least, thanks to him.

“Uhm, yeah, sorry about that, I wasn’t expecting her to go after you.” He shifted his weight and rubbed at his arm. “Guess she really wanted this.” Spider-Man held up Shay’s bag. Somehow he had had time to grab it AND stop you from coming to an untimely death.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You finally found your voice.

“I-” he was cut off by some shouts of ‘she’s over here!’. “And that’s my cue to leave. See you around!” He tossed Shay’s bag to you, (which you almost dropped), and by the time you managed to recover, Spider-Man was gone, leaving only webbing in his place.

[beepbeeprichiellc]

Part 1. Part 2.

His breath was fogging up the glass, his fingers leaving smudges along the smooth surface. The housekeeper was going to have a fit when she saw what he had done, he knew this and yet all he could focus on was the two standing on the front lawn. The thing about Beverly was that she was the perfect wing man-woman-whatever. She always knew the exact way to flaunt what he had as to weed out those suitable for her friends. It was how Richie almost always got laid, excluding for drunken one nighters he occasionally ended up in. When he answered her call he hadn’t expected her to show, knowing that she was recovering from her late night fly in so when she walked onto his property with those short shorts and tank top he knew she was out to kill. Although the look on the pool boy’s face when she advanced told him that he wasn’t falling for her tricks and Richie was afraid he would see right though the shamble.

The truck with chipped paint pulled from the curb, carrying with it his new pool boy. Richie watched it leave, discreetly using the sheer drapes to keep himself hidden. Once the tail lights were around the corner he sighed, banging his head loudly on the glass. There was a gnawing in his stomach, an unimaginable feeling that he wished to just go away. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been laid in over three months, or maybe it was because just the sight the boy made him a blubbering mess but he felt restless.

There was a bang from the back door and Richie nearly ran over to where Beverly stood, her cheeks flushed from the heat. Stopping short of jumping in to his arms he leaned against the countertop, biting his bottom lip nervously. “So?” He sang, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“He’s gay.” She answered, knowing the question without verbal confirmation. “Didn’t even bat an eye when I asked for his number.”

“Hot damn!” Richie nearly yelled in excitement. “Thank god for the little things.”

“Honestly, I don’t think you two would work.” Beverly admitted softly, pulling her sunglasses from her nose and burying them into her hair. There was a twinkle in her eye, like something was brewing in her head. “I mean, he’s just here for the summer and-”

“Well so am I. I’m not looking for a relationship Bevvy, just someone to get dirty with while I’m home.” Richie rolled his eyes, a sly grin stretching from ear to ear. “Don’t dangle him in my face and expect me not to bite.”

“I’m not danling anything in your face.” She nipped, snapping her fingers in his direction. “I just think he isn’t your type. He was all worried about your dad, about his job. He’s a straight shooter and I don’t think you’ll be able to bend him like you want.”

“Okay first off.” He muttered, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he looked at his friend amusingly, “He’s gay, so he isn’t a ‘straight’ shooter. Secondly, I’m not gonna bend him unless that’s the way he likes it. I mean I’d like to bend him over a lot of things like that chair or the counter or-”

“Okay fine!” She barked, rubbing the space between her eyes. “Fine, just stop putting that very vivid image in my head.” Glancing back up to her friend she smiled, sighing with contentment as she leaned into the door frame with her hip leading. “You can be so disgusting sometimes, remind me why we are friends again?”

“Because we are the black sheep in our families and that causes us to gravitate towards each other.” He mouthed back quickly, pursing his lips and blowing a very suggestive kiss. “Now tell me, what is that cutie’s name?”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie.” He whispered, the name making his lips tingle. It tasted sour, not the type of sourness that made you cringe but rather the sourness that left your mouth watering, making you beg for more. Richie smiled, running his long nimble fingers through the rats nest he called hair, wincing when he caught a few knots. “Even his name is sexy as hell.”

Beverly scoffed, pushing herself upward and strolling past him with a slight push. “Get dressed.” She commanded, not looking back at him as she began her rampage through his parents fridge. “And hurry up because we have to pick up Bill along the way.”

“Where are we going?” He asked, shamelessly watching his best friend bend over to reach a soda from the bottom self. There was no spark, no need when he looked at her backside but rather a respectable appreciation of its glory.

Slamming the fridge door she replied, “To the beach.”

------------------

Eddie laid his back on his board, looking up at the clouded sky with fondness. Things began to cool as the storm rolled in, the blueness becoming overpowered by the grey puffs of condensation. He wondered what it would be like to be caught in a storm, really caught under the sheets of rain. There had been glory stories told about surfing during a summer storm and anyone who was everyone knew that it was the best time for such a thing. Stan had done it once, Mike twice but he still had yet to live through the glory. He was afraid, just like he always was, tucking tail and running before the real masterpiece touched down.

Maybe someday.

But not today.

“Well this turned out to be a shitty day.” Stan’s stoic voice came from across the still water. “I skipped my hot yoga class for this?”

“Remind me why you take hot yoga again?” Mike jeered, laughter following his question. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“It’s freeing.” He nipped, splashing water over to where Mike was currently floating. “And like you are one to talk, you are majoring in history! Who fucking does that!”

Eddie smiled, enjoying the banter that followed. It had only been a few days and yet he felt more free here than he would have back at home. When Mike had brought up the idea of the three of them heading to the coast at the end of semester, he had been against it. Too many people, to many unpredictable variables. It took one very long, uncomfortable phone call from his mother to change his mind and even then he had only done it out of spite. Now he was floating in the Pacific Ocean with his two best friends without a care in the world.

“I think we should head in.” Mike’s reassuring voice suggested, making Eddie cringe. “The storm is going to hit soon and the last thing I need is another concussion from surfing.”

“Yeah, and I don’t feel like saving you guys when you drown.” Stan added, turning his board back to the mainland. “I say we head back to the house and order some paper view, maybe some pizza in the process.”

“Both of those things involve money, which mind you, we do not have.”

With a sigh Eddie sat up, looking at his friends with a frown. “You know it’s Stan’s job to be a downer right Mikey?” He joked, starting the long ride in. This made his friend laugh, muttering under his breath that he was just a realist. Once the touched sand Eddie’s stomach sank, the fleeting opportunity passing by him. He dug his feet in, wiggling his toes one last time before stepping out of the salty water. Looking once more to the sky he muttered, “Do you think it’s really gonna rain?”

“Na.” Stan replied, walking ahead towards the parking lot. “I think this place is fucking with us. Our first time out on the water and it’s gonna trick us back to shore.”

“Huh.” Eddie thought it seemed likely, even more so as the so as the sun peered through a storm cloud. “Well that sucks.”

“Life sucks my man.” Mike said, throwing his board on top of his truck. “Don’t worry, we can try tomorrow once you get off.”

This made Eddie shrug, half assuming that he would be fired by tomorrow anyways so why even care about it. The three of them had strapped their things in, taking time to adjust as needed so that the truck would actually make it back home. Eddie had been so busy that he hadn’t noticed the company he had gained, or the eyes that followed him with each move. It was Stan who noticed her, scowling as she approached. “Eddie, I think you've attracted a stray.” He groaned.

“Wha-”

“Eddie!” Beverly’s excitable voice called, her smile widening as she and two others moved closer. “Fancy meeting you here!”

Eddie froze, his body refusing to react as she pulled him into a awkward, one sided hug. Shimmying he was able to drop her hold, forcing a laugh. “Uh hI Beverly. What are you doing here.” He glanced behind her, noticing the Tozier boy who now wore a pair of khaki shorts, a god awful hawaiian shirt and-jesus christ-a pair of bright pink sandals. It seemed that Richie was more confident in person, his eyes bright and exuberant as he watched the exchange. There was also a normal looking boy with soft brown hair and a soft smile, being almost the exact opposite of his friend that stood beside him. “Are you following me?”

“What? No!” She pushed against his shoulder playfully, “The beach sounded like a good place to be so I decided to come down here with some of my friends, same as you.”

He was being stalked, Eddie just knew it.

“Hi, I’m Mike.” The kind hearted boy muttered, breaking the tension and extending his hand out to the rich girl. “And this is Stan.” He gestured to the unamused boy. “How do you know Eddie?”

Beverly smiled, taking hold of Mike’s hand and shaking it. “We met this morning, he was working on Richie’s lawn when I came over.”

“Ah, leave it to Eddie to make new friends on the first day in town.” Mike jokes, laughing at his friends expense. “So you’re Beverly, who are these two?”

“Oh! This is Bill.” She motioned to the calmer of the two, “And Richie himself.” The jumpy kid waved, a cheeky smile crossing his face instantly. “So you guys are new in town huh? Where are you staying?”

“Oh in my parents old beach house down the street. It’s not much but it’s a roof over our heads.” Eddie frowned, he liked the cozy home. It felt safe, and warm to him. More so than his own home back in Derry. “What are you guys from the upper east side or something?”

“Yep.” Beverly replied, “Hey since you guys are new why don’t we show you around. You have no idea where the good hanging spots are yet and there is a bar a few blacks down that has the best mixed drinks. What do you say? First round on me.” Eddie could not have been shaking his head any more, his ears ringing painfully as Mike replied for all of them with a genuine smile.

“Sounds fun.”

Pool Boy Eddie Tag:

@softuris @snooxyspazz @ihavesympathyforthedevil @reddieornox @addimagination @tozierbinch @loadsofgayy @helfeatencupquakes @pankoozie @moved-to-some-raging-fangirl @strangerl0ser @letsgetreddietorumble @oh-mayfield @superbcoffeekid @iamworried7 @ephemeral-elipisis @stan-tozier-denbrough @im-alover @tapetayloe