#i have all the others saved in a file folder but i bought him used!!!

[songofsunset]

Behold!! My transformers collection!!!!

I reorganized it just now! It might work better with Ultra Magnus in bot mode but uhhh I fully do not remember his transformation sequence lmaooo

My policy is that I try to only buy lady transformers which works great except that the combiner Victorion is ALL LADIES and thus THEORETICALLY COUNTS (they go for like 400 I will not be impulse buying her rip)

[claudiaaaana]

Here me out, secret agent/spy AU where Natsu is a field agent and Lucy is his support, basically feeding him his Intel through a piece in his ear while he's on missions. They rarely ever spend time in person, rather they bond almost entirely through banter while on missions.

Honestly, this reminds me of Healer—a kdrama where the guy was also kind of like a field agent and he had this woman (no ship or anything, this lady was way too older) who was his partner through the ear thing. She would arrange his missions, get the information for him, all through the computer BUT!! They didn’t know each other personally, he didn’t even know how she looked like, only she knew him physically because she would always see him through the computers and everything.

Now lemme drop some headcanons for that:

•Lucy’s office is a mess. Scattered books, manila folder, and files all over the place, a map with red strings pinned to her wall and ceilings, book shelves attached to the wall like a whole fvcking library, the place is always dark as she sits in front of the computer, being the only source of light in the room. She always wears skimpy outfits and likes to chew gum a lot, which drives Natsu insane when he can hear it through the earbud, not to mention he has super sensitive ears. She wears glasses sometimes. She’s one of the youngest in the organization Fairy Tail (lolol, can't think of any other name) because of her hacker skills and her tactician brain, and she gets paid very well, but she doesn’t have a fancy house or anything because she’s just horrible at being responsible with her money. She just buys lots of pink cars, pink motorbikes, and books. And just recently, she purchased different types of whips, and a set of latex. And she doesn't have any idea why she bought them, let alone where and when to use them.

•Anyway, quick background. Basically, Fairy Tail is a home for missions, agents, retired CIA, military or whatsoever. Their main vision is to destroy rings, auction and underground markets that sell women and children for -----graphy and blood rituals. They also take requests from the government, sometimes helping the paramilitary from destroying the terrorist. They also once unraveled the dirty secret of the previous government, some of them funding rings and auction. The previous gov can't overthrow their org since they're worldwide 🤷, and has several co-org like the Sabers, Lamia, and Mermaid. Has several warehouses and hq where they can take care of their saved victims and give them shelter and protection before reuniting them with their families. If they don't have one, FT gladly takes them in. Their org is invisible. The main hq, which is sitting in the middle of the busy city, is a tourist hotel. Some of their hq(globally) are restaurant, boutique, arcade, hotels, resorts, apartment, and etc. It takes any form and names, but they are all in one org, to not look too suspicious in the eyes of rivalry and corrupt gov. With Mira as the receptionist of the main hq, when someone slides a gold coin with intricate insignia of their org on her counter, she knows who they are, what is their position and rank based on the carved symbol on the back of the coin, and she exactly knows what to do with them (just watch John Wick. But the coin in JW is not exactly the way I describe it above) And Lucy is not working in any of their hq, she decided to have her own apartment and make it her own workplace instead. But from time to time, she would pay a visit. Only Mira and the manager (of course, Makarov) knows the faces of their field agents and hackers. While the agents themselves didn't know their support (their hacker partner) faces and identities, their support exactly knows who they are. Some field agents didn't even know that they already bumped their support in the middle of the street.

•Natsu's first meeting with Gray, and they almost killed each other. They didn't know each other, and didn't even know that they're co-field agents of FT. It just happened, you know, bumping into each other's shoulder in a banquet while they were in the middle of their own mission when they started throwing punches. Got them punished by the second arm of the manager, Erza. And finally learning each other's identities, they would still be at each other's throat. But seriously, they started to have a drink in an exclusive club after their tiring mission. They wouldn't admit it to themselves but they became the best of best friends. Still trying to kill each other, tho.)

•Natsu is a mess. Literally, a mess. He could look like Natsu with his hair down (idk, I like him more if his hair is down or wet🤷), but his role as a secret field agent forces him to use a black wig sometimes and other things, which he hates—no, loathes since it reminds him of Gray. He didn't have any other choice. With his unusual hair color, he'll be doomed if someone recognizes his trademark. Have this intricate dragon tattoo in his back. So whenever it's his duty, he needs to cover it with full coverage cream, can't take the chance of the enemy catching a glimpse of his tattoo if he ever ruined his attire, especially if he was wearing a tux.

•One day, he has this very difficult urgent mission and Lucy sends him a box, with a letter neatly folded inside, "Use this attire for tomorrow.” (Sometimes, field agents are obliged to wear a dress code like for example a tux, camouflage, waiter uniform, etc., according to the higher ups orders). So when Natsu opens the box he sees the female clothes: a tight sexy ass dress, heels, blonde wig, some makeup, full coverage cream to cover his tattoo, skin tone silicone gloves, fake silicone boobs and butt, a flash drive, and some special firearms with silencer. Fresh from the bath and with only a towel wrapped around his hips, he curses under his breath and brushes his wet hair back. He picks up the earpiece from his nightstand, and puts it in his ear, ready to wage war with her. It's not like it's her fault, it's the higher ups' order, anyway. Becoming a bait.

•Because she needs to hack the cameras of the building or whatsoever to keep track with him, whenever Lucy sees Natsu fights and manhandle someone, she can't help her mind but to wonder what would it feel like to be manhandle or headlock by him. And Natsu would literally yells at her because she's not answering him.

•They like to troll each other. But Lucy is in different level. She LOVES to troll Natsu as she talks to him through the intel earbud, in the middle of their assignment. When he has to talk to some people to get information, she would sometimes tell him the things he has to say, and sometimes she says random shit like “Fix your uneven eyebrows” or "I fvck with your mom" and since he's obedient as a fvcking dog, he would literally say it. Out loud.

•Like I mentioned before, they have never met personally. Natsu always complains and whines about the fact that she does know how he looks, but he doesn’t. After a mission is over, they *insert romantic ballad from kdramas* have some cute talks at night while Natsu wanders the nights of the city by himself. There are moments when they just stay silent...not really knowing what to say, and Natsu can’t see that Lucy is repressing a smile, and sometimes it’s like “Uhh, uhm…okay, so… I guess we’ll talk tomorrow". And Natsu would be like, “Oh, s-sure, yeah, if I need anything, uh, I’ll call you”. Lucy: "Don’t bother me too much, it’s really annoying having to listen to your whiny voice 24 hours at day. I'm done.” Natsu would snorts, and then she ends the call with a smile sjhsfkhdjghsddgja.

•Natsu smokes sometimes, but he's not a chain smoker. He just smoke to calm his nerves or if he's stressing the fvck out. So whenever Lucy see him through the camera or hear him inhaling the cancer stick, she will raise hell. She will constantly reminds him not to smoke nor litter. And guess what? He will listen, grumbling something under his breath as he crashes the stick in his fist before flicking it right to the trash can. He has this whole pack inside his drawer, and when Lucy got tired of scolding him, she said she hates the smells of it and hates people smoking it. He throws it all away in a heartbeat. Literally, emptying his drawer and throwing away all of his lighter.

•Natsu always tells her that one day he will take her out for dinner or for stargazing because she had mentioned before that she loves staring at the sky covered with twinkling star, and Natsu know some spot perfect for that. Lucy makes fun of him, but at the same time she feels a little bad because for some weird reason, the policy of their org doesn’t allow the field-agent and their support to meet personally? Who knows, but that increases their frustration when they are starting to like each other. Natsu has never seen her, so he literally ends up falling in love with her voice only. Sometimes, he spends time talking to her about how he thinks she looks.

"Brunette?"

"Nu-uh."

“Ginger?”

“Nope.”

“Uh, are you tall?”

“Jeez, are you really expecting me to be a super tall ginger or brunette porn star?”

“What? I wasn’t—!”

“I'm super short, you would probably have to look at the floor to see my face.”

•And he makes fun of her and her height, which ends up of him eating her series of curses and screeches before she cuts the connection.

•One day, he asks her if she has big boobs, big butt and wide hips. Lucy dies in embarrasment and ends the call.

•The fact that they’re constantly talking through an earbud DOESN’T GIVE YOU AN AMAZING NSFW THOUGHTS????👀👀👀👀👀🔥🔥🔥🔥 INTENSE AND MIND FVCKING ORGASMIC PHONESEX!!!!

•Talking about nsfw, imagine how intense their first encounter would be, after talking through a little device for years without being in front of each other…They would probably stay up all night, eating each other out, fighting for dominance, and fvcking each others' brains out. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) idc what anyone says but Mashima's artwork definitely confirmed that they were both sub and dom. You know, that chain thingy.

•Also it’s super bad for Natsu because sometimes Lucy gets into trouble with the organization (Lol, let's reverse the role. She’s a rebel here—Actually, no, they're both rebels. Idc), and they sanction her for days, even weeks, and she’s not allowed to speak to him or any of her co-workers friends out of work, so Natsu feels super worried all the time because she doesn’t get the chance to warn him first. He was given a temporary support, and he hates every minute of someone giving him instructions instead of Lucy. She just disappears and their organization is very dangerous (they’re spies, so they get into trouble with other people quite often) so he’s always scared that something bad might had happened to her. She then returns telling him that she’s fine, that she just got sanctioned for answering back or something. He then gets super mad at her, and she would give her rebuttal, "You're no better than me, idiot! Don't tell me you've already forgotten about the last month issue? YOU GOT SANCTIONED AS WELL! AND WORSE PUNISHED BY HER!!! BY ERZA!!!" And he would be like, "Oh, yeah? Then let me tell you something." And then they stays up late all night bickering and annoying each other. But once they're done and finally cuts the connection, there's a smile on their faces as Lucy laid her head on her pillow, while Natsu blows out a thick icy smoke from the cold as he rest his arms against the bridge railings, and looks up at the dark sky.

•Natsu once picks up a strange blue cat while still in the middle of the mission. Literally holding the poor blue cat close to his chest as he bangs his assailants' head against the table and wall. And he can hear Lucy's little cheer through the ear piece. They become fur-parent for this blue cat (we know who it is).

•Lucy also gets a bit salty when he’s on a mission and he has to flirt with a girl to get information, or when the girl starts flirting with him. Natsu doesn’t know how to flirt, so he’s always asking her to tell him things to say to the girls. As a little revenge, Lucy says “Tell her that her hair smells like spicy chicken salad". And oh boy, Natsu thinks that the smell of spicy chicken salad is really good, he loves that food, but the girl in front of him takes that as an insult and ends up slapping him. Lucy giggles at the other side, even if that will get her into trouble with the organization for not helping Natsu in the mission.

•I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. Lucy gets in trouble one day like one of their enemies storm her work place and abduct her to get information out of her, and Natsu's next mission is to retrieve her.

•Well, you know, the night before the retrieving-Lucy mission as he prepares, he gets anxious. Literally freaking himself out. And itching to inhale his old addiction (after meeting Lucy and becoming his partner, she became his new addiction, tho). And now that she's gone, he can't help but to light the devil. With only a first puff, he immediately regrets it. With the cigarette stick resting in between his lips, he can hear her in his ears. Angry adorable voice scolding him. He grits his teeth, nearly crushing the stick between his lips, before he chuckles softly and forcibly pulls out the stick out of his mouth and throws it away in the river under the bridge. He looks up at the night sky(his usual spot) and whispers, "I'm sorry, I littered again. Please, come back home. It's getting lonely here."

•Just imagine trying to stay calm as he infiltrate the enemy's base. But he can't help but be brutal to them. Silently yet brutally ending them with a bullet, and not giving them any mercy. He will stare at them dead in the eyes, asking them with only one question in his head, "Where is she?" And probably his eyes will be the last thing they see as he sends them off dead when they can't give him the answer.

•Imagine him first time seeing her personally. (well, he has already seen her in the picture before the mission). After an agonizing two weeks without hearing her voice, he finally hear her calling his name. She's here, in the flesh. Her in a not-so-good situation, tied up, black and blue bruise, blood, but she's putting up a fight. And him going in a rampage, sending someone in hell with his death burning glare. Insert dramatic kdrama OST.

[starrygalazy]

Been a while since I posted anything (school started up again 😭) so here are some HC's about some Overwatch members meeting Snowball

- When anyone meets Snowball for the first time he acts a little shy. Usually he'll peek out from behind Mei, then likes to fly around the person he's meeting to get familiar with them. It's hard for Snowball to find someone he doesn't like, and he ends up nuzzling against most people excitedly like a happy puppy. If he doesn't find someone he likes (which is RAREEEE) then he'll go back to hiding behind Mei.

- Tracer and Winston absolutely FELL IN LOVE when they first met Snowball (I mean. Who wouldn't? Look at that face), and he loved them back. I can imagine him and Tracer playing a bit of friendly tag around Gibraltar, and Winston making some special modifications to his charging station so he could charge faster and more comfortably (he's also currently making multiple to place all over Gibraltar in case he runs low in an inconvenient place)

- Brigitte was super amazed at Snowball's ice abilities and asked like a million questions about how he did it, how he stored fuel, etc (cue some inspiration for fuel management for Torb's ice turrets). She reads poems to both Mei and Snowball, and even if he doesn't quite understand the concept of poetry, he audio recorded every single one and has them saved in a folder Mei made. Brigitte also loves giving him headpats- she's used to that because of Mitzi

- Snowball was a little off put by Genji, because he couldn't see his face or know how he was feeling easily. Genji was VERY still, to the point even Mei was a little worried Snowball wouldn't like him. Eventually though Snowball happily chattered and nuzzled against him, which ended up scuffing both of them (since. Metal). But Genji did indeed like Snowball too, and always makes sure Snowball nuzzles him wherever his hoodie covers in order for neither to get scuffed up again.

- Lucio sampled Snowball's chatters for one of his songs, I am SURE of it. He's still working on it, but did ask Snowball to chatter into a mic so he could make something out of it.

- Mei's definitely the sort of person to dress Snowball up in little outfits, ranging from tiny dapper hats to cute bows and more. When she first told Hana this, she was like. "... I got you." Next day, Hana bought a TON of accessories, and Snowball LOVED IT. They spent a whole night playing dress up while Mei worked (she eventually joined at the end)

- Angela and Mei probably work together on some things, and one day Angela was talking about how exhausted managing so many files was even with Athena helping. Mei suggested Snowball could help, since he's good at transferring, storing, and organizing files wherever they need to be. When Snowball helped her out, Angela was amazed at how fast he was able to sort so many files. Mei was just watching with a proud smile on her face. Now, if Angela's having difficulty sorting files, she'll ask Snowball to help and reward him with headpats and a good cleaning.

And that's all I can really think of for now! Hope you like these, and tell me if you have any other ideas.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 127: Fake Dating

"It's just annoying," Draco continued as he and Harry packed up for the night. "Literally every single party or brunch, I am hounded about when I'll start dating someone." He slammed his desk drawer closed, "I'm a bloody auror! I haven't got time to date anyone," he groaned. "And now I have this party tonight and I just know-"

"I'll go with you," Harry offered.

He broke off and stared at the other man. "What?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug, "I'll go and be your pretend boyfriend, it would be easy to fake that we're dating since we already know everything about each other."

"But," he started, tilting his head at the other man, "Then people will think we're dating."

"I thought that was the point?"

He stared at Harry, waiting for it to click. When no click was forthcoming he said "but then people would think you're dating me."

"Am I missing something here?"

He rolled his eyes, "I don't think you quite understand what dating me entails."

"Ah, need to be pampered, darling? Wined and dined? Roses on Tuesday and dinner on Friday nights? I could bring you coffee in the morning-"

"I- What?" Draco spluttered. "No! No. Merlin, that's not what I'm saying, although, yes if we're being honest I want to be absolutely doted upon," he added.

"Obviously."

"Wait," he said, shaking his head to clear it, "You're missing the fucking point."

(Read more below the cut)

"Sorry," Harry said, smirking at him and not looking sorry at all, "What's the point?"

"The point," Draco said, poking him in the chest, "Is that dating me is not a pleasant experience."

"Oh come on," Harry teased, "You're not that bad."

"I am a fucking delight," he replied, exasperated, "I am saying that the press will make your life hell."

"Ah," he said, nodding, "I have no idea what dealing with the press is like."

"The press has been kind to you for at least the past decade because of the whole saving the world nonsense," Draco replied as he opened the door and held it open for Harry.

"Except for the lurid months after I came out and all sorts of lies were spread about me," Harry replied wryly.

He shook his head and headed toward the floos, "Even those were mostly flattering," he added with a lewd glance.

Harry laughed, "Whatever. My point," he said, poking him in the shoulder, "is that I'm not afraid of the press." He bumped his shoulder against Draco's, "Come on. What have you got to lose?"

"Fine," he huffed but his stomach was silently doing back flips while his heart did a complicated tap routine in his chest. "Meet me at the Screaming Goblin at 7:00pm sharp." He stepped toward the floo and turned, "Don't dress like a homeless person," he added before stepping into the floo.

---------------

Harry did not dress like a homeless person. In fact it was quite the opposite.

Harry looked fucking hot.

He was wearing tight dark-wash jeans and a lightweight jumper that hugged his body, making his strong, broad shoulders look even broader and his trim waist even narrowed. He'd done his hair, putting enough product in his curls to make them look artfully tousled and not a mess. And he'd arrived before Draco but instead of waiting, he'd gone in and bought Draco's friends a round and was sitting and yammering away at them.

As Draco approached, Harry turned his head and gave him a wide grin, "Hey, babe," he said, standing up and pulling out Draco's chair for him.

"Hi," he said weakly.

Harry pressed a kiss to his temple and a thrill shot through Draco's body as his brain went pleasantly fuzzy.

And thank Merlin for Harry because Draco hardly answered a question all night, hardly even heard a question all night because he was too busy focusing on the way it felt to have Harry's fingers trailing through the hair at the base of his skull. Harry talked and laughed with Draco's friends like they'd all been friends for ages as he sat with his arm resting on the back of Draco's chair.

When it was time to go, Harry helped Draco into his coat and bid all of the former Slytherins goodbye as he wrapped his arm through Draco's.

The bar wasn't far from Draco's but still Harry murmured, "Can I walk you?"

And Draco found himself charmed into saying yes.

Harry hummed, quiet now that all of Draco's friends were gone, but he still kept his arm looped through Draco's as they walked. When they arrived at Draco's front door Harry asked, "Everything alright?"

Draco's eyes snapped to his and he nodded, "I just can't believe how well they took to you."

He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and grinned up at Draco from the bottom step, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Well, I can be very charming, what can I say?"

"It's a little strange-" Draco started but Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth and every word that Draco knew disappeared.

"Don't overthink it," he said with a wink. Then he turned and started off down the sidewalk calling, "See you tomorrow," over his shoulder.

Draco was half way to bed before he realized that there was no one watching when Harry kissed him on his door step.

------------

They spent the next two weeks fake dating and it was the best dating experience Draco had ever had. Harry was sweet and doting, just like Draco had said he wanted and Draco enjoyed that thoroughly.

But what he hadn't expected enjoying as much as he did was being good to Harry in return. While Draco loved to be praised and brought little treats, Harry loved to be touched. He melted when Draco ran his fingers through his hair; when Draco held his hand, he got a huge dopey grin on his face that took hours to disappear; and even a casual touch, fingers trailing over the small of his back when Draco walked by, made his lips twitch up as he leaned into the touch.

Draco was quickly, and disconcertingly, becoming addicted to those smiles.

Smiles were in short supply that day, though. The case they'd worked had been tough. Harry was scowling at the folder splayed out in front of him, his jaw clenched as he filled in paperwork.

"Hey," Draco murmured as he slipped behind him and slowly rubbed Harry's shoulders.

Harry dropped his quill and leaned back into the touch, "Hey," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Alright?" Draco asked.

He nodded, "I just hate the ones with kids."

"They're going to be alright, though," he said.

"Yeah," he agreed, "But it just brings up bad memories." He shook his head and covered Draco's hand with his own. "Want to get out of here?"

"What did you have in mind?" he asked as he combed his fingers through Harry's soft curls.

Harry tipped his head back to look up at Draco, "this is nice," he said softly. "Want to go back to mine and I'll make you dinner? Then I'll lay with my head on your lap and you can stroke my hair?" he asked wistfully and Draco's heart stuttered in his chest.

"That sounds an awful lot like dating."

"Yeah," Harry affirmed.

"But there's no one there-"

Harry pulled away, breaking Draco's contact with him, "You're right," he said, nodding as he stood up and started shoving files into his bag. "Forget it."

"Harry-"

"No, it's fine," he said, giving him a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You're right. I'm just," he shrugged helplessly. "Forget it," he repeated as he grabbed his bag and headed to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"But-" Draco started before realizing it was useless because Harry was gone. He packed up his things and headed home, this was what he should have been worried about; pretending to be dating had been a terrible idea.

When he got home he flooed Pansy and told her everything. "And now I don't know what to do," he finished, imaging Harry at home all alone make dinner.

"You're such an idiot," Pansy groaned.

"Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes. "You do know that we all knew you thought it was fake, don't you."

"What?"

"We all knew. Potter told us that first night when we met up for drinks," she said.

He frowned, "Why? Why would he say that? And why haven't you said anything?"

"Because he asked us not to. He said he was really into you, or whatever," she said flippantly, "And that he thought he could win you over by showing you how great dating him could be. He begged us to play along."

He stared at her, mouth open, "He feels the same?" he breathed.

"Yeah," she said. "Obviously."

"I've got to go," he said, abruptly ending the call so he could floo to Harry's flat.

He stumbled out of the floo and immediately called for the other man, "Harry!" he shouted, heading toward the kitchen. "Harry!"

The other man's head appeared outside of the kitchen doorway, "Draco?" he asked as though he couldn't believe his ears.

Draco took one look at him and then closed the gap between them in three steps before wrapping his arms around him and kissing him.

Harry dropped whatever he'd been holding and it shattered at their feet but Draco didn't care because he was kissing Harry Potter and that was all that mattered at the moment. He poured his heart and soul into the kiss and Harry met him with the same.

"Me too," he gasped when he pulled back.

"What?" Harry asked, looking a bit dazed and Draco could hardly blame him.

"I'm into you too," he said. "Or whatever you said to Pansy that first night."

"I told them I was in love with you," he confessed. "You still want to own that?"

He nodded and threw himself at Harry again, kissing him and wrapping his arms tight around his neck.

The next time they parted Harry asked hopefully, "So, do you want to stay for dinner?"

"How about I stay forever?" he asked, grinning wide at the other man.

He nodded, "Even better."

--------------------

Day 126: Arranged Marriage | Day 128: Snake

[holylulusworld]

Silent

Summary: People think you talk too much so you fall silent.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, self-doubts, the reader used to talk too much and now she’s silent, mentions of torture/imprisonment/experiments, comforting, fluff

“Does she always have to talk so much? I can’t believe someone can hold a speech over pancakes. Is she never tired of hearing her own voice?” Standing in the doorframe of the common room you clasp one hand over your mouth.

You believed Bucky enjoyed your conversations. Since he moved in two months ago you tried to be a friend, a companion he can talk to when Steve is not around.

Never in your worst nightmares would you have imagined Bucky could be annoyed by your small talk.

“Listen, Buck. She likes to talk about a things, maybe explains too much but that’s part of her personality.” Clint chuckles at Sam's words.

“You mean she can chew your ear off about her latest shopping trip.”

“Barton, that’s not funny. Y/N tried to explain how credit cards and electronic article surveillance work to him. Last time he went shopping he got lost, didn’t know how to pay.” Sam throws in. “Maybe it was a long conversation, but Y/N meant well.”

“I know, Sam.” Clint sighs. “Sometimes she just won’t stop. I had to fake to go to the restrooms last time.”

“Guys, seriously. Stop talking shit! Y/N is not talking too much. Only as men tend to only grunt or throw ten words per day at each other doesn’t mean a girl talks too much.”

Natasha slams her fist onto the kitchen counter. “She’s kind, nice, and smart. All Y/N tried was to help Barnes.”

“Exactly.” Wanda purses her lips, glaring at Clint. She’s challenging the archer. Daring him to say another word about you. “Now back to breakfast. Who’s on duty?”

No one recognized you entered and left the room after Wanda started to make breakfast for everyone…

“Did you finish the latest report?” Tony’s question brings you out of your thoughts. He’s looking at you, assuming you will tell him every little detail but all you do is nod before you hand him a manila folder. “No explanations?”

“We were all there, I wrote nothing not everyone witnessed. Report ending.” Steve cocks a brow at your short answer. Usually, you mention details but today, you barely spoke twenty words.

Natasha watches you cautiously while Clint leans back, enjoying you didn’t ask questions or explained things he already knew.

“Okay. Great, Y/N. Next point, our yearly charity gala is due in a week. I hope everyone bought a nice dress and for gents, a nice suit.” All eyes land on you.

Normally you describe your new dress, the shoes, even your hairstyle, but again, you simply nod.

“Got a dress. Mission accomplished.” Now Wanda searches your face but you block her powers, giving her a shake of your head. “If that’s all, I got places to be.”

“Don’t we have another report from you and …” Tony trails off when you get up. “Y/N?”

“Everything you need to know is in the folder. If you have questions, ask Jarvis.” Taken aback Tony nods, glancing at the folder you push against his chest.

“Something wrong, darling?” Giving Tony a cracked smile you shake your head.

He doesn’t need to know what you heard. You know, as the person bringing you into the team, Tony sees you as his little sister and would do anything to make you feel comfortable.

“I am great, Tons, don’t worry. I’ll check on a few files at my office if you need anything.” When you walk toward the door you feel eight pairs of eyes follow you. “I won’t make it to the movie night, though. Have fun.”

You are gone before Tony can ask you again if anything is wrong. “What was that? Usually, she won’t go without explaining every detail.” Tony’s eyes meet Steve’s but he’s as clueless as Tony.

“I don’t know. I was on a mission with Bruce and Maria.” Steve looks around the room, tries to make out if anyone knows anything. “Anyone knows what’s wrong with Y/N?”

“I got no clue, Steve. A few days ago, we talked for hours but over the last days Y/N barely said ten words. Her answers are always short, precise.” Natasha looks at Wanda who tries to avoid eye contact.

“Wanda?” Sam’s brows furrow when the redhead tries to sneak out of the room. “What do you know?”

“I know nothing, I swear. I…I recognized Y/N is different for a few days and tried to look into her…head.” Shrugging Wanda tries to explain why she wanted to break her own rule to never read her teammate's minds.

“She blocked me for the first time during our meeting. All I could see or rather feel was hurting and then she pushed me out.”

“Crap, Cap. Any ideas?” Steve sighs when everyone looks at him.

“Not to rhyme badly would be a start, Sam.” Sam glares at Clint who tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “Sorry, go ahead…”

“I will try to talk to Y/N. Something must be wrong as she’s always bubbly and friendly. Today, Y/N was a different person and I do not like it one bit.” Tony exclaims. “Maybe Barnes could talk to her? She seems to like him.”

“Me?” Bucky coughs, tries to not get involved in anything involving conversations. “Why? I am not good at talking to people. Steve is your man.”

“Buck, she talked to you for hours. Y/N tried to make you feel welcome and help you at the same time. I know she sometimes talks a bit too much but…”

Natasha gasps at Steve’s words. Her eyes meet Wanda’s and they suddenly know why you refuse to talk to your friends.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck, Sam!” Now Sam slams his fist onto the table, glaring at Clint.

“She heard what you said that morning! This is your fucking fault, Barnes!” Raising his hands in surrender Clint tries to stay out of the conflict.

“Don’t act innocently, Barton! You said she talks too much!” Wanda grabs Clint’s ear, tugging harshly. “You’ll apologize, both!”

“You said what and she heard…” Steve clears his throat before he gets up to glare at his friend.

“I know you are not much of a talker Buck, but she tries so hard to talk to you. Y/N only offered her friendship and you just messed everything up.”

“Let me talk to her, Capsicle. I don’t think she wants to see Barton or Barnes for a while. At least around me, she can talk as much as she wants to.” Tony sighs deeply. “Do you know why she’s talking so much?”

“No.” Bucky snaps at Tony. “As she likes to do so?”

“I found her, in a cell during a mission years ago. Our fine government wanted to create a super-soldier like Steve and you. They took blood samples, DNA. All this time, she was not allowed to talk or ask questions. If she did, they hurt her.”

Bucky feels like someone just pushed a knife into his guts.

“They electrocuted her, hit her, did awful things. When I found her, she wouldn’t talk. I thought she’s mute. It took months before I heard the first word leave her lips. I nearly got a heart attack when she called my name.”

“I…” Jumping up, nearly breaking his chair Bucky stumbles toward the door. “I got to talk to her. I need to apologize and all…”

“Doll?” Bucky enters your office. Head hung low, eyes not daring to meet yours he sighs deeply. “’m so sorry, darling.”

“Can I help you with anything, Sergeant?” Your eyes are glued to your monitor when Bucky walks toward your desk.

Normally you would jump up, drag him toward the cozy couch in the corner and tell him about your day, or ask him about his.

“I came to apologize for what I said. I…I am so sorry, Y/N.” When you meet his gaze Bucky can see your red eyes. You must’ve cried the whole time you spend in your office. “You can talk as much as you want to, doll.”

“I will shorten my conversations from now on. It’s unnecessary to tell you about my day, clothes, or stupid cat videos on YouTube. I know that.” Bucky grasps for your hand, kissing it repeatedly.

One moment he kisses the back of your hand and the next he picks you up to carry you toward the couch, making you yelp.

“No…no, doll. I like those videos. That one with the cat hunting the hedgehog was hilarious. That furry guy even tried to jump on the hedgehogs back.”

Giggling you look at Bucky. “Tell me about the next thing I should check on YouTube.”

“Dude, there was this guy, taping his eyebrows and then…” Looking at you in his arms Bucky hums while you tell him about the guy ruining his eyebrows.

“So, that poor guy has no eyebrows. Tragic.” You snicker at Bucky’s words before you hide your face in his chest.

“What about new cat videos or, this is even more important, tell me about the dress you’ll wear to the charity event.”

“It’s a black Chanel dress, backless and I like it. Don’t tell anyone, but it’s second-hand.” Whispering the words, you poke your finger into Bucky’s chest. “Swear to not tell anyone.”

“I’ll swear to not tell anyone if you agree to be my plus one. I need someone to save me from anyone asking me how it was to be the winter soldier.” Your hand gently pats his cheek, caress the scruffy skin before you move closer to press a soft kiss to his chin.

“Doll, if you tried to kiss me, mission failed, but points for trying. Let me show you how it’s done.” Stunned you feel Bucky’s lips on yours.

He swipes his tongue over the roof of your mouth, and you giggle again. “No laughing! That was a perfect kiss!”

“It was an eight, Bucky but we can try again.” He smirks before his lips are back on yours. This time he devours your mouth and you need to break the kiss to breathe.

“Better. I would say eight point five this time. We are getting closer, Barnes. How about we practice some more?”

“Will you forgive me for being a douche? I want you to talk as much as you want to. Maybe we can go to my room and talk some more.” There is a cheeky smile on his lips when you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Only talking, Sergeant Barnes. I am a good girl…”

“Yeah?” His breathing quickens when you look up at him in awe. “I will make it up to you. Every stupid word I said, doll.

How about we have our private movie night at my room and you can tell me anything about the movie before we even watched it.”

“Deal…”

“Please, never be silent again, Y/N. I hate silence when it involves you not talking.”

Snuggled into a warm blanket. Your head resting onto Bucky’s chest you snore lightly. You didn’t make it through the movie before you fell asleep.

The room is silent. You are not talking but right now, Bucky’s heart swells as you repeatedly muttered his name in your sleep.

“Love you too, doll…”

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​​

@shikshinkwon​​

@miraclesoflove​​

@mogaruke​​

@shatteredabby​​

@soryuwifeyxx​​

@letsdisneythings​​

@i-love-superhero​​

@psychicforest​​

@thevelvetseries​​

@deanmonandnegansbitch​​

@sabascio​​

@goodgodimaweirdperson​​

@that-place-called-middle-earth​​

@the-broken-angel-13

@trumpettay​​

@zxph-yr​​

@belovedcherry​​

@matsumama​​​

@rynabarnesrogers-reading​​​

@emoryhemsworth​​​

---------------------------------------------------------

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore​​​

@notyourtypicalrose​​​

@voltage-my2dlove​​​

@officialmarvelwhore​​​

@randomgirlkensy​​​

@juniorhuntersam​​​

@lumar014​​​

@doctorswife221b​​​

@sister-winchesters99​​​

@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​​

@the-soulofdevil​​​

@chonisberonica​​​

@redroomproperty​​​

@natura1phenomenon​​​

@chaoticfiretaconerd​​​

@heartislubbingdubbing​​​

@hhiggs​​​

@sea040561​​​

@midnightsilver16830​​​

@rvgrsbrns​​​

@fandom-princess-forevermore​​​

@amandamdiehl​​​

@grincheveryday​​​

@thelostallycat​​​

@lunaticgurly​​

---------------------------------------------------------

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@rynabarnesrogers​​

@marshyrebelcloud​​​​

@buchanan-lover​​​

@rosalynshields​​

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : What Was

11 - “I love you.” “Then why did you let (her/him/them) get in between us?” 17 - “You win, happy?” 34 - “I would’ve done anything for you.”

Genre: Angst

Warning: Language, Mentions of Cheating, Heartbreak

Word Count: 1,194

* * * * * *

It was the ultimate hurt. The epitome of betrayal. 

She took all that you’d started to have and threw it in the trash, all while ripping your heart out and shoving it in a garbage disposal and flicking the switch. Or at least that’s what it felt like she’d done. 

Why? You don’t know know. And why she’d done it with her of all people was truly lost on you.

The whole thing completely blindsided you. It’s not like there were signs or a reason for her to cheat. You and Natasha were happy and everyone could see it, you could feel it.

You would wake up in each others arms, make breakfast together even though neither of you were good at cooking. Time spent together was cherished and still you’d both made sure to have your alone time.

Perfect is far from what your relationship was but it felt that way. You and Natasha understood each other, cared for each other, loved each other, were loyal to each other. It all fell apart when that last one went away. 

With loyalty went trust and honesty and so on. It left you broken for a while but now you’d been trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey, Pep,” you step into the woman’s office folders in one hand and a child on your hip,“ two deliveries, one more important than the other.” You say with a teasing tone even though you’re serious. 

Gently you set Morgan down and she runs over to her mother, throwing herself into the woman’s arms, and you approach to set the file down. 

Pepper smiles at you gratefully,“ thanks for watching her.” You’d been more than happy to keep an eye on Morgan while Pepper was in her meeting.“ If this is the Pfizer file you’re done for the day.”

“It certainly is,” you nod, then wring your fingers together,“ I was wondering if I’d been granted my two weeks.”

At your words, her smile drops a little.“ Oh, yeah, I approved it. I just- are you sure you want to leave?” 

You sigh,“ you know if I didn’t think it was best I wouldn’t but- throwing myself into my work isn’t exactly healthy and I need to get over-” you stop, eyes flicking to Morgan,“ you know.”

“I understand. I’m just going to miss you. We all are.” She speaks in reference to herself, Morgan, and Tony. 

After Natasha thought it was a good idea to sleep with Wanda despite your eleven month relationship, you couldn’t handle seeing them every day so you went to stay with the Starks, who welcomed you with open arms. 

With a small pout you round the desk with open arms and the three of you hugged briefly. 

Pulling away, you told them you would miss them too, and after a small lunch(burgers courtesy of Happy), Pepper confirms that Tony set the jet and hotel stay up for you and you once again thanked her, saving Tony’s thanks for when you see him. 

Shortly after you leave the new Stark outreach building, Tony had bought the building and started the organization to assist those who needed help after the Snap, you drive back to the compound. 

Even though this was at once your home, you still feel uncomfortable stepping foot into the building after everything with Natasha. 

Luckily you make it to your old room without running into anyone. You make quick work of cleaning the room that you hadn’t occupied in months, hastily putting everything Natasha had left behind in a box(sweaters, jackets, pictures, etc.), and make sure to pack all you need while gone. 

Despite your speed though, you’re pretty much caught.

“Y/n please don’t leave.” Her voice hits your ears and you freeze.“ This is your home-” 

Spinning to face her, you raise a brow,“ my home? Do you really think that this place still feels like that? You fucked OUR best friend in the room across the goddamn hall Natasha.”

A fact that made it a million times worse. Wanda was yours and Natasha’s best friend. She was the one that encouraged the two of you to pursue each other. For her to just turn around and then be half the reason this relationship shattered to pieces hurt like hell. 

“Natasha I don’t think this place will ever be my home again. And if I’m being honest,” you turn away from her piercing green eyes before you finish,“ you were my home first. Since the second I got here it was you.”

It’s so quiet you hear her breath hitch, you hear the small step she takes towards you, and without thinking you step back, legs brushing the side of the bed.

Green teary eyes flicker from the photo sitting a top the box(one Pepper had taken of you both at the opening of the outreach center) and back to you,“ I love you.”

You scoff. The sound was made involuntarily and you know it hurt her but she’d hurt you too.“ If you love me so much why did you let her get in between us?”

“It was a mistake. One I should’ve known better than to make but I wasn’t thinking. I never wanted- I don’t know what I wanted at that moment but-”

“Well if you want to hurt me then you got it. You win, happy?”

Her fingers grip the side of her pants and her jaw clenches and unclenches,“ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-” she stops. She’s given you this speech before and it didn’t work, she’d be a fool to think it would now.

“I know you are,” because you do. It’s clear as day that she truly didn’t mean to hurt you but that doesn’t take away from the fact that she did.

Zipping up the suitcase, you trail your eyes over the fairly empty room, you always spent more time in Natasha’s room so you never really did much with the place, then walk past the red head, leaving the box sitting on the bed.

The silence is awkward and tense in a way it never had been before. Both of you feel the finality of this moment. Whatever is said will be the last of this relationship. How you leave today will set the tone for whatever relationship this may be in the future, if there will be one for that matter.

So in a last ditch attempt to ensure she doesn’t lose you forever, to ensure that you come back to be in her life in any way at all, she speaks.

“I would’ve done anything for you.” Her voice shakes with her words, stopping you at the door,“  I still would.”

Without even looking back you shake your head,“ I’m sure that’s true, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

Knowing you wouldn’t make it through more conversation without bursting into tears, you clutch your suitcase in your hand, and leave. Tony said he’d be waiting for you at the airport and while you aren’t entirely sure what running to Brazil would do, you pray it fixes what’s left of your broken soul. 

[monicashipslokius]

Soulmates, Actually Pt 4

(read part 1/part 2/part 3)

A sharp, shrill alarm blares before the sun has even risen, rousing Loki from a perfect slumber. Loki groans their disgust, but it’s muffled in the meat of Mobius’s shoulder.

“Easy, sunshine,” Mobius says, and the infernal man is actually trying to move.

Loki grumbles louder. Mobius, chuckling, eases Loki away from him and onto the pillow instead. It’s not the same - too soft and not nearly warm enough. Loki clings tighter around Mobius’s waist in retaliation.

“We talked about this,” Mobius says. “I have to go back to work today.”

Loki huffs in frustration as they let Mobius remove their hold and lower their arms to the bed. The pillow is a poor replacement.

For a moment, Mobius brushes Loki’s hair back away from their face. His fingers linger, feather-light, at the edge of Loki’s cheekbone. Too soon, the touch is gone.

“I’ll be back at six pm sharp.”

Loki rolls onto Mobius’s side of the bed and falls asleep again.

When they awaken, the sun is bright and the sheets are cool. Loki’s stomach rumbles. They groan as they pull themself out of bed and finally face the day.

The long, lonely day.

A week has passed since Thor’s departure - a week of Loki and Mobius redecorating and cuddling and learning each other.

They bought six plants of varying sizes, new drapes the color of the ocean, and a soft bedspread to match. Mobius fixed up the broken bathroom door, and Loki hung a few new art pieces and string lights.

The La-Z-Boy they arranged in front of a small boxy television set became a fast favorite.

“What did I tell you?” Mobius said the first time Loki relaxed deeply into the recliner. “It’s the perfect throne.”

Mobius may not understand color palettes, but the man knows comfort.

“It will do for now,” Loki told him, not wanting to give too much away.

Mobius’s smile never wavered. “Mmhm.”

Now, Loki drags themself to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Ten minutes later, they are perched on the recliner, plate on their lap, watching soap operas on television.

Claudio is surprised to find that his fiance Regina’s twin sister Georgina has been behind all of his misfortune, but the plot twist has Loki rolling their eyes.

“Amateurs.” Loki bites into an apple slice.

The hours tick by. Loki watches the anchor-shaped clock that hangs in the kitchen - much of their new decor has an ocean theme. But the more Loki watches the clock, the slower time seems to pass.

Time flew by with Mobius here. But without him...

After the soap operas, the courtroom shows begin. And then the news programs. Loki walks laps around the apartment while listening to the weather forecast for the third time - partly cloudy with a 30% chance of rain. The cost of gasoline is skyrocketing. The local high school football team might make county finals, whatever that means.

At quarter to six, Loki thanks the cosmos. Finally. Mobius will be home and put an end to this monotony.

Loki cleans up a bit, dusting some crumbs off the arms of the recliner. They place the plates in the sink.

Then, because they don’t want to appear too eager, they grab a book and stretch out on the bed.

Six o’clock comes and goes. Mobius does not arrive.

By seven, Loki is annoyed.

By eight, they are angry.

By ten, they are concerned.

Dubuque seems relatively safe. And Mobius has lived here alone for a long time before Loki.

But Loki has enemies. Many, many enemies. All of whom would be more than happy to get their hands on their soulmate.

Mobius is probably fine.

But what if he’s not?

At eleven, they are examining the photo of his office building that Mobius keeps on the dresser. Mobius had taken them to see it in the past week, though they hadn’t gone inside. It wasn’t too far a walk, if they recall. Loki is certain that they could find it again, even in darkness.

So they change into a black suit and hurry out the door. The Dubuque city streets are barren this time of night. Loki encounters no one on their trek to the office - until they barge through the front door and are stopped by a security guard.

Loki promised Mobius that they would not hurt anyone, so instead they create a projection of themself to distract the guard while they themself head toward the elevators. Following the signs for the data analytics department, they ride the elevator to the fourth floor.

They step off the elevator into a darkened field of cubicles. Each is the same - small desk, computer, and chair. All are empty. But Loki isn’t alone here. They follow a light through the cubicle maze and come to one that is occupied.

Mobius has a foot-high pile of files on his desk. He’s tapping at his computer keyboard with the index finger of each hand and peering at the small monitor.

“Mobius?”

Mobius jumps, then clutches his chest. He exhales when he sees Loki standing in the opening of his 3ft x 4ft cell. “Give a guy a warning next time.” He smiles. “But it’s good to see you. How’d you get here? Security let you in?”

Loki only frowns at him. “You said you’d be back at six.”

Mobius’s smile loses some of its brightness. “I have to work a little late. Next time we go out, we’ll get you a phone so I can call and let you know -”

“’A little late?’ Mobius, it’s been hours. I thought you were...” They won’t give name to their truest fears. That Mobius had been kidnapped or killed. Or perhaps that he had finally seen the true darkness in Loki and left of his own free will.

Mobius shakes his head. “Come on, Loki. It hasn’t been that long. It’s only...” He glances at his monitor. “Midnight? That can’t be right.”

“I assure you that is accurate.”

Mobius sits back in his squeaking chair, and rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry...” He releases a drawn out sigh and his whole body droops. “Boss was cheesed that I bailed on the conference. I have a lot of work to make up.”

The stack of folders towers over Mobius’s slouched shoulders.

“Would it helped if I -”

“You can’t kill him,” Mobius says.

Loki closes their mouth. Tries again. “He needn’t be killed. I could simply... frighten him.”

Mobius shoots Loki a flat look.

“Fine,” Loki says, disappointed. “But what is your intention? To stay here all night?”

Mobius side-eyes the folder mountain. “I’m going to have to.”

“No.”

Mobius sighs. “Loki -”

“This is a place of employment, Mobius, not a living space.”

“It’s my own fault. I should have come back sooner.” He rubs at the corner of one eye. “Maybe I should have stayed at the conference.”

The words stab Loki between the ribs.

“Magicking away was not my best idea,” Mobius says. “I shouldn’t have run from my responsibilities. I’ll never catch up on this work.”

More stabs, a thousand tiny cuts.

“So you regret everything,” Loki says, fighting hard to keep the hurt from their voice. They are disappointed by their own surprise, their own pain. They had thought Mobius was different. They should have known.

Thor was wrong when he said no one could hold Loki’s interest. It was the other way around. Loki protected themself by leaving before the other could get bored. They should have done that here.

But they thought...

Mobius is supposed to be their perfect match.

“No, hey,” Mobius jumps from his chair. That’s all it takes to put him in Loki’s space. Loki takes a step back. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t regret everything, just some things.”

“You regret coming with me when we escaped.”

“N-no,” he says, but not without hesitation.

“You could have stayed. They weren’t chasing you. You could have told them I brainwashed you and gone on with your day.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” The bags are heavy under Mobius’s eyes. He’s tired, Loki knows that - but Loki’s tired too. Sitting, waiting, stressing.

The room sparks with tension. Loki’s pain festers under their skin.

And Mobius regrets.

Loki takes a breath, searching for calm. For understanding. For their soulmate. “Come home,” they say, “And we can continue talking in the morning.”

Mobius exhales again, too sharp. He places his hands on his hips and looks at that damned pile of folders again. “I can’t go anywhere.”

“Mobius -”

“This is my life, Loki,” Mobius tells him. “Data analysis is my life. You have to understand that.”

Something dark in Loki’s chest snaps clean in half. “This is your life. This.” They wave a hand around. “This tiny box in a sea of tiny boxes. Where everyone else has left you here in the dark. Where your employer buries you under papers so deep that you cannot find your way out of them. Is all this extra work truly because you left the conference? How often would you work late before I arrived?”

Mobius looks away, and Loki knows they’re right. The answer, too often.

“Are you at least receiving additional benefits for all this extra time spent here?”

Mobius still won’t look at them.

“They are taking advantage of you, of your loyalty, and you are letting them.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mobius snaps, the sharpest he’s ever spoken to Loki.

Loki stands taller. They’re used to anger, to cutting words, to pain - more than they were ever used to kindness.

“I am trying to protect you,” Loki says.

“I don’t need protection from my job.”

For one wild moment, Loki thinks of grabbing those folders and tossing them across the room. They dream of throwing Mobius over their shoulder and saving them from this drab place and its tan carpet and eggshell walls.

Instead, they insist, “No, you do. You owned three photos when I first met you: one of your parents, one of a jetski, and one of this office. Can you not see how depressing that is?”

Mobius face hardens.

“You are meant for better things than this. When was the last time you even rode a jetski? Or had fun of any kind?”

“I’m an adult. I don’t need fun.”

“That is absurd.”

Mobius’s brows draw together. “Listen, not all of us could be born into royalty, and just go around doing whatever we want all the time.”

Born into royalty. A fresh sting, not one Mobius could know would hit so hard. But it does all the same. Loki steps backward from the force of it.

Mobius unhooks his arms. “Loki -”

Loki shakes their head. Mobius watches them, confusion replacing frustration, followed quickly by concern. He lifts his hand, but Loki steps back again, further out of reach.

“It’s fine,” Loki says, lying. “Stay as long as you like.” They bury the pain down deep. It’s familiar, an old, hated friend. “I wouldn’t dare dream of treading on your unhappiness.”

Mobius drops his hand. “I am happy. I am perfectly happy.”

“Good,” Loki says.

“Great,” Mobius says.

“Wonderful.”

“Fantastic.”

They stare hard at each other. Loki refuses to look away first.

When Mobius finally does, turning back to his cubicle and his chair and the stack of folders, disappointment floods through Loki.

They don’t wait to be dismissed, they turn and leave on their own.

*

Loki does not return to the apartment. Instead, they walk and they walk and they walk. They almost hope to be accosted by vagrants, so as to release some restless energy in a fight, but they see no one. They reach a river and follow it into a forest.

They sit along the riverbank and watch the sunlight crest over the trees.

Maybe they shouldn’t have surrendered the scepter. With the tesseract, they could have traveled anywhere. Now they are limited to the distance of their own two legs. Not that they would know where to go anyway.

The only place they want to be is back at the apartment with Mobius.

It’s evening when they eventually make their way back there. Their stomach growls, and they’re thirsty and tired. With some food and a good night’s rest, perhaps they could leave again with a plan this time. Hire a taxi to an airport and take a plane. Find a city of decadence and lose themself for a few decades.

They don’t expect Mobius to be home. It’s only shortly after seven, far too early for his beloved late nights. Yet as they place the key into the lock and start to turn, they barely have time to remove it before being yanked forward into the apartment and into a crushing embrace.

“Don’t leave me,” Mobius says. His arms are sure around Loki’s waist. His nose is buried in the crook of Loki’s neck and shoulder. His words are muffled by Loki’s forest-dirty suit coat. “I’m not happy. I haven’t been in a long time. Not until you. And not without you.”

Loki sags into his arms, and he holds tighter, keeping Loki upright. Keeping them safe. They close their eyes and let the warmth of Mobius’s body chase away the chill of the Iowa evening air.

“You scared the hell outta me,” Mobius says, voice shaky. “I looked for you everywhere, but I kept checking here. I kept hoping you’d come back. I’m so sorry.” Mobius leans back. He reaches up and cups Loki’s face between his palms. Gently, he rubs his thumbs over Loki’s cheekbones. “I want to be good for you.”

“How could you think you’re not?”

Regret shines in Mobius’s eyes now, more than it ever did during their argument. “I hurt you. I don’t want to ever do that again.”

Loki places their hand over one of Mobius’s on their face. “I hurt you, too, I suspect.”

“No, everything you said was right.” He swallows. “Work’s all I had for so long, and when I was back there, and they started piling it on... Everyone else in that office has always had someone, so before I would take on the extra work myself. It was better than coming home alone. It’s a hard habit to break. Loki, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to do this.” But Loki still wants to hear it. Each of Mobius’s words are a balm over their pain. Mobius keeps going. He doesn’t even stop for breath.

“I lashed out at you, and I only did that because you were right. And I didn’t want to hear it. But then you were gone.”

“I’m here,” Loki says. “I’m here now.”

“I am a lousy soulmate.” Mobius smiles, but it’s too soft, too sad. “After so long alone, I don’t think that I know how to be with somebody. But I want to learn. I want to deserve this, with you.”

“Mobius,” Loki says, and their mending heart threatens to break again. “I am no great prize.”

Mobius starts to laugh. “I’m trying to be serious, Loki.”

“I am too,” Loki says, and whatever Mobius sees on their face stops the laughter. Loki studies the softness in Mobius’s gaze, the adoration, the great care, memorizing as much as they can, in case this is the last time they see it. “I’m a monster.”

Mobius, voice flat and unamused, says, “Be serious.”

“I was not born to royalty. Not like you think,” Loki says and waits. Dread rolls over them in waves, but Mobius does not react more than a slight cant of his head. “I’m not...” It would be easier to show him, but Loki can’t. If they do, Mobius will change all of his sweet words. He won’t stand to share this small apartment with them any longer, and Loki will be back on that riverside. “How you see me is not... how I am.”

Mobius is patient. Mobius waits. Maybe Loki wasn’t wrong about Mobius after all. Maybe Mobius, like them, is imperfect and a little afraid but trying.

Slowly, Loki pulls Mobius’s hands from their face so as not to burn him with the cold of their skin as they lift the glamour that hides their Jotunn form.

They want to look away, to hide from the horror they are sure to see on Mobius’s face, but simultaneously are too desperate to see any and every reaction.

Mobius’s eyes grow wide. His lips part. He blinks a few times.

“Loki,” Mobius says, and Loki braces for fresh heartache. But then he smiles, real and true and bright, a lighthouse in a lifetime of hurt. “Blue like the ocean.” The adoration never dims from his eyes. “You are beautiful.”

*

Mobius insists he doesn’t care, but Loki only feels comfortable again with their glamour restored.

“Either way,” Mobius says, and sends Loki off to the bathroom to shower and change. “I’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re done.”

When Loki leaves the tiny bathroom in their silk pajamas, they find the small two-person table lit by candlelight. Mobius stands beside it, wearing one of the dark suits Loki picked out for him at the store, with a deep green tie that’s slightly askew.

“What’s all this?” Loki asks.

“I know we’re soulmates, and our fates are destined and everything,” Mobius says, tugging at his collar. A bit of pink dusts his cheeks. “But some things should be done the old fashioned way. I want to win your heart, so I thought...” He clears his throat. “I want to wine and dine you. Properly.”

“Ah.” Loki slides further into the room, heart lighter than it’s been in the past forty-eight hours. All the lingering hurts are mended. And Mobius looks delectable in that suit, just as Loki thought he would. Loki strides right up to him, reaches out, and adjusts his tie. “You are attempting to seduce me.”

Mobius’s cheeks redden. He glances away for the briefest of moments before his eyes return to Loki’s face.

“You are everything a guy could want,” Mobius says. “More than I ever dreamed.”

Loki finishes fixing Mobius’s tie, but leaves their hands flat on Mobius’s chest. Mobius takes one and brings it to his mouth. He places a kiss to Loki’s palm.

Loki shivers, but not from any cold.

“Loki,” Mobius says, giving so much weight to the name - things unspoken, maybe not ready to be said, but are known - so known, and ready to be shown.

Mobius leans, and Loki stays very still, waiting, wanting but so, so afraid.

Mobius stops just out of reach. His breath hot on Loki’s lips, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Loki swallows all their fear and whispers, “Please.”

Mobius closes the distance and presses their lips together.

Fireworks ignite in Loki’s chest. Their heart thunders. Their hands itch for more, so they grab Mobius by the shoulders and hold, clinging, ruining the new suit and not caring at all.

Mobius cups Loki’s jawline, guiding them closer, tilting gently, positioning Loki just as he wants them. Loki goes willingly, opening their mouth as Mobius licks his way inside.

They should have done this long ago. They should do this all the time. This should never, ever stop.

Loki moans as Mobius’s fingers comb into their hair. Mobius breaks for air, tilts his head, and comes back for more. Loki holds Mobius so close, they are certain their heart beats straight into Mobius’s chest.

It’s perfect, passion incarnate, and Loki wants so much that they -

Loki’s stomach growls. Loudly.

Mobius smiles against Loki’s lips.

Loki groans as Mobius plants one more soft kiss and pulls away.

“Wining and dining time,” he says with a wink.

Loki is both endeared and annoyed. “I will have more of this.” His stomach grumbles again. “After dinner.”

Loki doesn’t miss the flush of Mobius’s cheeks, even as his easy smile returns. “It would be my absolute pleasure, and I mean that.”

[papergirllife]

Chapter 3

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem​ ,  @caratzennie  , @johnnysuhnflower  ,  @euphoricchannie  ,  @yeollieseo  ,  @jjhmk  , @sherzess , @wonderfulkoreanpop​

(lmk if you wanna be on the list)

You’ve been seeing Mr Suh, correction, Johnny, his first name, as per requested by Johnny himself.

“Mr Suh makes me feel older than I already am, you make me feel like a teenager all over again, so you have to call me Johnny. Let me relive my days when I was still a college kid.”

You didn’t mind, things aren’t as awkward between the two of you anymore, Johnny’s been spending time with you, although the two of you never established any sort of labelling towards what this relationship is. You and Johnny only hung out and had meals together, trying out different cuisines, watching movies, even going as far as skipping a day at work to go to the amusement park. He even bought you to an arcade when you told him you haven’t had the chance to venture to one since you were in grade school.

“Why haven’t you ever been to one for so long?” Johnny asked when he finished a round of pinball.

“They said it was a waste of time and that I should spend more time studying,” you said, wondering why Johnny would ask that, isn’t it the same for all the kids?

Whenever you mention your confining life to Johnny, he’d have a faraway look in his eyes, jaw locked in silent rebuke, he doesn’t say anything, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He would be quite for almost half an hour before he goes back to regular cheerful Johnny, telling you lame jokes that you would surprisingly find funny.

You didn’t have a phone, since your parents forbid you to have one, the only means of communicating is through your email account on your laptop, and even that you must always bear in mind to delete his mails right after, and take further precaution, you didn’t allow him to initiate the sending.

Johnny wanted to buy you one, but you rejected him promptly, you didn’t want him to spend so much money on you, he already spends lots on taking you out to eat. You gave him the excuse that it was too dangerous, and the consequences of getting caught are severe.

You often questioned your relationship with Johnny, you aren’t dumb, you’ve googled him and saw gossip news portals uploading photos of him and some model going out and about in hotels, but those headlines were months ago, the latest news about him was from his interview with Times magazine.

You never had the guts to ask him, you don’t know what you mean to him. What right do you have to question his whereabouts and what he does? He’ll probably be bored of you after he’s known all of you.

You know you shouldn’t think of Johnny that way, it is mean to assume what he’s thinking, especially how well he’s treating you, but seeing those headlines gives you a sense of insecurity, you keep telling yourself that this won’t last, but the thought of not seeing him again made your hair stand. He’s making you happy, a distraction towards the negativity you face in that house you live in, but for how long?

House. You never called it a home, unless you were telling your boss you were leaving, to prevent anyone from questioning your odd way of describing it. It was never a home to you. To you, a home is a place where you feel happy, safe, and most importantly, loved. The closest you’ve ever felt to having these feelings were your grandma and Joh... No, you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you. What were you thinking?

You pushed those thoughts away as you opened your laptop to double check the files that you’ve typed out for your parent’s next important meeting that was supposed to be taking place first thing tomorrow. But when you went through your folders, the files were nowhere to be seen. It’s then you realised that the notification that keeps urging you to update the laptop was gone, it wasn’t the first time you updated the laptop and found out some files were missing, so you would never update the laptop at such a crucial time.

You took the laptop out to your father who was watching some news on his phone in the dining area to ask him if he had updated the software without alerting you.

“Yes, I did. What about it?” he asked, annoyance on his face due to the sudden disturbance.

“The files are missing because of the update,” you informed him.

“What files?” 

“The files for tomorrow’s meeting, they’re missing,” you told him as you mentally prepared yourself for what’s to come.

“What do you mean missing?! I bet it was because you saved it wrongly again! Your retarded brain never works does it?! Do you know how important those files are?! You always work on them late at night blurry eyed, of course you didn’t save them properly! You could’ve worked on them in the morning before work. but no... You want to ‘exercise’! What a waste of time!” You’re not pretty anyways, what are you doing them for huh?!” Your father shouted, his eyes blazing in rage, his fist slamming onto the glass.

While your father was shouting, your mother was checking the laptop as she complains about how clueless you are. It was like your brain couldn’t take the amount of hurtful words piercing into your mind like daggers, you let out a high pitched scream as tears threatened to fall, your hands covering your ears as your eyes were a blur.

When you could see properly again, you could make up words which sounded like ‘how dare you’ from your father, next thing you registered were the fury in his eyes as he advances on you, hand above his head, ready to hit you. You didn’t know what came over you, but the first thing you did was kicking him away. That’s when a full on fight broke out.

You were filled with rage, your mind wasn’t registering what you were doing. You went into a flight or fight stance and started thrashing and kicking as his hands were holding painfully tight on your wrists after you tried punching him.

Your mom urges the both of you not to fight, her voice barely registering in your head as she sits still on the high chair by the kitchen island, not bothered to even try to cease the fight.

When you finally pushed him away, you ran into your room and locked it. Your chest was heaving from the panic attack that just started, you tried your best to calm yourself down, reminding yourself to breathe, it was suffocating, controlling your breathing as more tears made its way out of your eyes.

When it all stopped, your body succumbed into mental exhaustion, passing out on your bed as the tears finally ceased.

You only woke up for dinner last night, and proceeded to sleep again. Yesterday’s events made you feel numb, other than the pain from the bruises on your arms.

There was a big ugly one on your left upper arm, its colour an ugly shade of green and purple.  A few other less serious ones scattered around your lower arms. In other words, you look like a wreck.

You wore a jacket to run even though you were sweating from your previous cardio work outs, feeling a little better after the endorphins in your body kicked in. When you got back, you quickly showered and ate a toast. When you asked for your mother’s phone to remind your boss you were going to take the day off, she told you that weren’t needed at the meeting anymore and that she finished everything last night.

“Just call to say that you’ll be going to work,” she said, not even looking in your direction when she handed you her phone.

But when you called to inform your boss, he told you that he had another part time coming in, and that it was too short of a notice. You said thank you and hung up, but said that you’ll be at work on time today before handing it back to your mother.

You really needed to escape for the day.

You opened the laptop and sent an email to Johnny.

I’m free today. Wanna go out?

You sat on your bed staring at the ceiling as you were sure it was going to be a bit before he replied, but just as you closed your eyes, you heard a distant chime from your laptop.

I’m rushing some stuff at the office today. I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Can I stay in your office? I really wanna get out of the house.

You sounded like a spoiled kid begging for attention, but you really wanted to see him today.

Sure. But you might get bored :) .

I’m leaving the house now :) .

For a 26 year old businessman, he sure loves to use emoticons.

You got changed into jeans and a jacket, you don’t usually wear one if you were going to a secluded area with Johnny, but you had to hide all the marks from last night. You just noticed that they hurt after you accidentally knocked your wrist against something.

You took the bus to the address Johnny wrote down on your diary, it was after one of your dinners together, and he jokingly said that you could always swing by if you wanted, you didn’t know you were going to actually do that.

The bus station wasn’t too far of a walk from his office, since it was just downtown Seoul where the Korea’s financial hub was located.

As you were nearing the office buildings, you stood out like a sore thumb, given the way you were dressed and your age. The people kept giving you stink eyes and sideway glances.

Suh Capital Partners. That was it.

You walked in the rotating doors, only to be greeted by masses of people walking around with smart pads, files, talking on the phone while the assistants take notes. Johnny didn’t mention his company being this big.

You admired the facade of the lobby, it displayed the latest news on a large monitor while futuristic lights hung from the high ceiling, the walls were a perfect balance of steel and wood with a wall of plants filled the wall behind the reception area. 

You realised that the people stopped what they were doing before and started looking at you curiously when one of the nicely dressed women from the reception walked up to you.

“Excuse me, miss. May I ask who are you looking for?” the woman asked, her eyes scanning you from top to toe.

You froze at your spot from how cold she sounded, like she didn’t want you around to ruin the aesthetic of the company. You reminded yourself that you weren’t going to see her anytime soon after this and that if you did make a fool of yourself then so be it.

“I’m looking for Mr Suh,” you told her.

She looked taken aback from your answer, but gave you the ugliest sneer when she recovered.

“Miss, this isn’t a school, you can’t just walk in here and demand to see someone without an appointment. Mr Suh is the head of this company, not someone you can just meet without an agreement from him. Please leave this instance,” she said, her tone high pitched enough to gather everyone’s attention, you swore you heard someone laughing a few feet away.

“But...

“That’s my guest, Ms Park.”

You whipped your head back to see Johnny standing behind you. But instead of his usual warm honey eyes, his eyes were a cold and staring daggers into the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Suh. I’ll get back to my work now,” the woman bowed apologetically, going as far as doing it numerous times.

“I’m going to need a key card for her, Ms Park. Send it up to me when you’re done,” Johnny said, but his eyes were scanning the crowd, his employees immediately went back to what they were doing, the large lobby void of any sound other than people rushing to the lift lobby to escape the scene.

Johnny placed a hand behind your back and guided you to the lift lobby after most of the people have taken the ride up to their respective floors.

“I’m sorry,” you said after the coast was clear.

Johnny’s intimidating stance broke as confusion takes over his face.

“What are you sorry for?” Johnny asked, he should be the one saying sorry.

“I’m such an embarrassment, coming here in my jeans and jacket with a canvas bag, looking like a kid,” you said, fingers nervously tugging the straps of your old bag.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nothing’s wrong with being young and dressing your age. They’re just grumpy from all the work. Don’t take their words into account, and you look great. Perfection as always,” Johnny said reassuringly, hands placed on your shoulder, the warmth of his palms calming you slightly.

“No....

You buried your face into your hands as he patted your head, you sneakily glanced up to see him smiling at you with a toothy grin. But you quickly regained posture as you saw an elevator door open with many pairs of legs.

Johnny wasn’t going in even though the lift was going up, that’s when people in the lift realised it was him, and quickly came out of the lift, saying sorry and greeting Johnny.

Johnny guided you in after the lift was cleared empty. His staff looking at you curiously, you weren’t used to having so many pairs of eyes on you, their curious eyes burning holes into you.

Johnny could sense your anxiousness from the way you were hiding behind his tall figure as the two of you walked into his office, there weren’t many people at that time, given the fact that only direct reports of his business partners came up to hand in documents.

You only felt yourself loosen up a bit after you took a seat on Johnny’s armchair in his huge office, overlooking Seoul’s skyline and the cars that were buzzing about on the roads. The view made you calm down a bit from the journey coming up here.

You felt the chair dip as Johnny took a seat on its armrest, his hands coming up to give your shoulders a nice massage. Johnny smiled at the way your eyes lit up from his comforting touch as you looked back to smile at him, he felt a warm feeling deep in his belly as he takes in your beautiful features and the warmth of your shoulders on his fingertips. But as he puts more pressure onto your shoulders, you wince slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Did your boss at work make you lift heavy stuff again?” Johnny asked, his hands ceased all movements, fearing that he would hurt you again.

You automatically thought of your fight with your father last night, it might be because of the force exerted from when he had pushed you.

“N-no, I just didn’t sleep well last night. I watched a horror movie and had a nightmare,” you lied, not knowing how he would react if you told him the truth.

“Be careful when watching these movies, Y/N. If you went to work and your boss really made you move heavy things today, then you would’ve strain your muscles,” Johnny said, going back to massaging your shoulders, but this time gently applying pressure on that spot, rubbing it in clockwise circles to ease the pain.

“I’m fine, Johnny. Didn’t you have work to rush? I don’t want to keep you away from important matters. And my shoulders feel much better now,” you said, moving away from his hands even though you could’ve let him do that forever, it felt so comforting, borderline addictive.

“Okay, I’ll tend to your shoulders again later.” Johnny said as he lays his head on top of yours, a gesture that he had came up with whenever he wanted to show affection to you without crossing uncharted territories, your heart sped up whenever he does that.

You were just sitting on the couch reading one of your old books when you looked up and saw Johnny frowning at his laptop, you placed your book down and made your way to Johnny.

“Don’t frown like that, you’ll get frown lines when you’ll get older, it’ll spoil your handsome face,” you joked.

Your hands reach out to smooth the creases on his forehead, a smile coming back to Johnny’s face.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your busy hand into his, lightly tracing the area between your thumb and your index finger.

“What’s bothering you?” you asked, unbeknownst to you, your lips were unconsciously set in a pout.

“There’s some documents that are supposed to be sent to my office in Chicago, but the English that’s written here isn’t up to standards, I’m worried the staff there won’t understand what the document is stating. I don’t mind correcting it, but I have other things to tend to as well,” Johnny explained to you.

“Can I take a look at it? I had Cambridge classes for 8 years. Guess it’s finally coming in handy. I mean only if you think I’m capable, I don’t want you to think I’m boasting or anything, I just really wanna help...

“Y/N, sweet, I trust you. Just let me get you a laptop,” he said before dialling to his secretary.

Once Johnny sent the files to that laptop, you started correcting some grammatical errors and replaced some terms that weren’t as professional, when Johnny was done with his meeting, you were done with the documents as well.

“Here, take a look. There might be mistakes,” you said after sending him the files back.

“You were reading ‘me before you’, I think you’re fine, Y/N,” Johnny deadpanned.

“Just take a look, just in case,” you pleaded, doe eyes capturing his heart. Nodding, Johnny smiles, doing as you said.

Johnny scanned through the documents, his eyes lighting up brighter after each sentence, a proud smile making way on his face. When he was done, he pulled you close by the waist, and gave you a warm hug, his head nuzzling into your sweater.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I thought I needed to work overtime because of this,” he said, his voice was slightly muffled by the cotton.

“You’re welcome. You can always send me these files when I’m not here, I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” you offered.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Wanna grab lunch? I can hear your stomach rumbling,” Johnny asked after pulling away, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, as you hit Johnny’s shoulders lightly for his teasing, a smile creeping up your face.

“No, I’m not...

“Come on, I know this really nice French restaurant around the corner...

“Johnny I have the file you were...

Doyoung stops in his tracks as he sees you and Johnny being so close to each other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest,” Doyoung apologises, but his eyes were still wide in disbelief.

“Doyoung. This is Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung is one of my business partners, his dad was my dad’s business partner so now it’s his turn,” Johnny introduces his friend to you, telling you a bit of his background.

You gave Doyoung a tiny bow and soft hello, nerves wrecking up at meeting someone you often see on telly whenever their company has a press conference. You could sense an air of discomfort as Doyoung gives you a questioning look.

“You can just put the files on my desk Doyoung. I’ll take a look at them after my lunch break.”

When the evening rolled in, Johnny had to drive you home before your mom questioned your whereabouts.

“I really enjoyed having you by my side today, Y/N,” Johnny said sincerely after pulling up outside the gated area.

“I should be the one thanking you, I can’t believe those snails cost so much, yet you won’t let me pay you back whenever we have meals together,” you retorted, recalling how your eyes almost flew out of their sockets when you stole a glance at the bill.

“Money is not an issue, Y/N. I told you that many times before,” Johnny reminded you.

“I’ll see you on Saturday?” you asked, changing the subject before he offers to buy you a house or something.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, chuckling at how you diverted his attention.

Johnny unlocked the doors of his car, but right before you pulled onto the handle, Johnny pulled your arm, the place where one of the bigger bruises were located at, making you wince at the unexpected pain.

“Y/N I wanted to ask, wait. Are you in pain? Are you hurt? Did I accidentally hurt you?” Johnny asked his eyes wide in worry.

Before you could protest, Johnny pushed up the sleeves of your sweater, revealing the big ugly bruise on your upper arm, and several others that went downwards until your wrist.

You looked up at Johnny, scanning his face that was frozen in shock, eyes not believing what he’s seeing. His fingers gently tracing every bruise, his other hand rotating your arm gently, to see if there’s more.

“Y/N... Who did this to you?” Johnny questioned, but deep down in his gut, he’s sure it’s who he thinks it is.

“No one, Johnny. I just fell down when I woke up,” you said, lying through your teeth, you didn’t want to, but that was your survival instinct whenever someone asks about your parents.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N, it’s them isn’t it? They hit you. Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny demanded, he questions why you don’t trust him, was he not worthy in your eyes?

“It’s nothing, Johnny. Goodnight,” you said in a breath before turning away.

You quickly got out of his car and ran to your lift lobby, Johnny was following behind you. But before he could step into the premise, you shut the glass door which could only be opened with a security card on him, mouthing the words sorry before you made your way into a lift.

Johnny banged at the door, shouting for you to come back, before the security guards asked him to leave. He could feel a prickle in his heart as he sees the bruises in his head, the image fresh. He felt red hot anger boiling in his heart, he was going to get you out of that horrible place, no matter what it takes.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Taste Of Your Own Medicine ~ PJM [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2.4K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy, angst? Savage Reader finally takes a stand, the y/n I want to be

↬↬↬Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

↬↬↬A/N: Hope this Is okay for you my love!

What was supposed to be a relaxing honeymoon turned into a stressed-filled weekend away with Jimin and his girlfriend who hated you, she hated you because you were married to Jimin and not her.

"You said whatever I want I get," You heard her whine as you flicked over the pages of the report in your hand, the weekend was supposed to be spent relaxing in the huge hotel but instead you were working since you weren't having a real honeymoon. Yourself and Jimin were married because of family arrangements, Park Industries and Kim Industries were going into business together and that why you had been married. It had been arranged that way since the day of your 16th birthday so you knew the time had been coming where you would have to marry someone you did not love. Myung stomped her foot down like an immature child who couldn't get their own way and in return, you rolled your eyes, Jimin glanced over at you and then back to Myung as he handed her some more money.

"She's going to run you into the ground Jimin," You stated once she left the hotel room you'd been hiding out in for the last day and a half, luckily you would get to go home soon. That 10 bedroom mansion was looking really good to you right now, plenty of places to hide away from Myung and her high pitched squeaky voice.

"Shut up, I have enough money to spoil her if I want to." You nodded sarcastically and shut the folder you'd been working from, you weren't going to be able to concentrate on anything with either of them around.

"Whatever, but when she finally makes you broke don't come crying to me. We had an agreement." The agreement. He could date whoever he wanted as long as he kept it out of the press and kept it quiet, any of the girls he dated had to sign an NDA to make sure they couldn't talk about anything between themselves and Jimin. You didn't want his player like behaviour coming back and making your company take a hit. You were doing this for a reason and you weren't just going to let him throw it away over some pussy.

"I know we do. You're just jealous it's not you that I'm buying everything for," You scoffed rolling your eyes so hard you thought they might roll out of your head and in front of Jimin but he scoffed back at you,

"Trust me Jimin, if I really wanted something I could go out and buy it for myself since I'm not a gold-digging girl who's never worked a day in her life," You hit him on the shoulder with your folder and walked into the joint bedroom that was in the room, sliding your work into your side bag and looking for your swimming costume.

"She's has a job!" He defended barging into your room as he watched you hunting around for something, he was always doing this. Trying so hard to defend her against you but you didn't care, you never had. As long as she stayed out of your way you wouldn't care.

"Please Jimin, fucking you on your desk at work doesn't count as a job...Unless you've started paying her for that like the last one," You smirked at yourself knowing you were winding him up, it was one of your favourite things to do to him while he was mad about something,

"Just because you wouldn't know real love if it hit you in the face!" He yelled right as you walked out of the hotel room door carrying a small bag with you as you walked away, he was right though. You'd never done the whole falling in love thing because you never had time. You'd studied for most of your life and when you turned 16 your love-life was mapped out for you and marriage was presented to you with a pretty pink bow on top. Not that it was anything like your mother described it to be. It was a living nightmare and you'd only been married a week.

Months began to pass into your marriage and the longer Jimin stayed with Myung the more you began to think he might actually love her,

"Boss?" You frowned turning to your attention back to Jungkook who was waving his hands in front of your face, he was holding up papers that you were supposed to be signing.

"Sorry Jungkook, I'm away with the fairies today." You laughed softly trying to make a joke rather than to tell him what was really bothering you, Jimin had been spending a lot more time with Myung lately and you were beginning to think that he might blow the whole marriage thing for her - it wouldn't be a bad thing but your parents needed this marriage to be able to work.

"Can you call my mother and my lawyer for me, I need to speak with them about something right away," Jungkook wasn't an idiot he knew about the arrangement between you and Jimin, everyone in your office building did since whenever he came to see you he brought her along with him.

"I'll get right on it, you have a meeting this morning though with Namjoon and Jin, Taehyung can't make it." Your adoptive brothers who were also all in on the arranged marriages and had their own to deal with. Maybe you could go to them to get some advice on what to do with Jimin.

"As more time passes the more expensive these gifts are getting for her, I know he's not using my money but he's going to make himself poor." You said to Jin as he plated you up some food, you were having a lunch meeting in the conference room of your building.

"You can't do anything though...Can she?" Jin directed his question to Namjoon who was reading through the marriage contracts that you and Jimin had both signed. His eyebrows were knitted together as he tried to make sense of everything that was written there, it was nearly impossible since it seemed like a 3-year-old could have written out a better contract.

"You both signed a prenup, right?" You nodded as you poured everyone a drink sitting down and picking up your chopsticks, you had no idea what Namjoon was trying to suggest. The divorce wasn't allowed to happen unless there was a clear reason,

"He's with someone else, you could file for adultery?" You shook your head as you pushed food into your mouth,

"We said he could date whoever-"

"It's not in the contract," He smirked as he cut you off sliding the contract over to you as he began to eat his own food, you skimmed through everything on the pages and it was true. Filing for divorce would be great right now but what would happen if he didn't sign the papers?

"Think you can trick him into signing them somehow?" Jin asked right before he shoved a bunch of food into his mouth and began groaning about how good it tasted, it was like living with pigs.

"No, that wouldn't hold up in court either since it's fraud!" You yelled at him playfully shaking your head and trying to come up with a way that you could do this properly.

Later that night you were sitting in your office reading over everything you could about divorce, your mother had come to see you telling you that it was better to stick the marriage out - even though you weren't happy and never could be. Your lawyer, on the other hand, seemed to think it would be best to file for a divorce and then wait to serve him the documents yourself, Hoseok always had a flair for the dramatics so it was no surprise that he wanted to do it that way.

"Mrs Park." You cringed at the way Jungkook called you that, you'd asked him so many times to just call you Y/n instead but he never did it.

"Yes, Jungkook?" You mumbled tearing your eyes away from the pages to see him standing there holding your coat and an umbrella,

"It's late, you should be going home." You sighed turning to look out of the window, you hadn't even realised it was past midnight until you realised the only places open were the 24-hour supermarkets and a couple of bars.

"I think I'm going to stay here for the night, Jimin and Myung are getting on rather well lately. I don't want to be at home for that." Jungkook walked further into the room shaking his head at you he hated that you tortured yourself this way but that was when he spotted the divorce papers, you'd circled adultery for Jimin and left yours blank.

"You never went to anyone else?" Frowning you looked down at the papers he was staring at and you shook your head,

"Nope, I'm too busy to try and find someone to like me back." You laughed softly trying to cover up the papers but Jungkook insisted on talking about it.

"You'd find someone I'm sure of it boss, you're an amazing woman who isn't afraid to stick up for herself. Men like that." You smiled sweetly at him, he'd always been sweet like this with you and you knew deep down it was because he had a crush on you but you would never do something like that in the workplace. It would be all kinds of wrong.

"I'll go home Jungkook, do you want a ride home? Saves you catching the train?" He nodded and thanked you while he held out your coat for you to slip into.

Jimin was flat out broke, he'd run his money into the ground a few months after you'd spoken to the lawyer about divorcing him. The papers were ready and were just waiting for Jimin to sign it all.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Jungkook said as he watched Jimin walking towards your office, you had glass doors that overlooked everything inside of the building on your floor which meant you could see how upset Jimin was right now.

"Have you seen Myung?"

"Not since last night, why?" She'd been up late in the night with you talking about how she had big plans for her and Jimin to go away together on her new private jet. The third one that Jimin had bought her this month alone, the one thing that sent his money running away from him.

"She's gone, left me some stupid note telling me how she was leaving with someone else." You stared at him and nodded your head, you felt no sympathy for him. For the last three years, you'd warned him that she would do this to him, even before you were married you told him she'd leave him as soon as the money dried up.

"You're broke right?" He nodded his head not seeing what any of if it had to do with Myung,

"I told you she was only after your money." You stood up from the desk and took the papers that Jungkook had in his folder.

"Please sign it, give it to your lawyer to look over in case anything is wrong." Jimin's mouth fell open as he took the papers into his hands to see what it was,

"Divorce papers, you can't do this to me. It's an arranged marriage," You smiled at him sarcastically, you didn't care if the Queen of England had arranged the marriage herself there was no way you were going to stay with him.

"She left with all my money and now you're leaving me?"

"Park Industries is being shut down, we have no obligations to one another anymore." You stated plainly picking up your handbag and going towards your office door but Jimin took hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving him there alone,

"Y/n- We're married, you can't just leave me. She left me! You were right okay! But you don't have to do this to me, please don't leave me with nothing." You stared down at him your heart aching as he yelled at you to help him through this bad time but you looked away from him.

"I'll never do it again, I'll stay with you! That's what you want, isn't it? Me to stay with you?"

"No Jimin! That's not what I want at all, I want a chance at true love with someone that isn't forced to stay with me." You snapped at him scoffing as he started laughing at you, even now he was arrogant and condescending.

"You won't get that, people like us don't get true love, we get people that use us for our money." Your hand locked with Jungkook's as you stared at Jimin,

"I see." He laughed loudly causing people to turn around and look at you as you and Jungkook tried to walk away but he continued to follow you shouting out abuse as he walked.

"I filed for adultery on both parts Jimin, don't scream at me when you did this." You mumbled to him shoving the papers back into his chest, he held onto your hand as you did so and stared into your eyes.

"We're supposed to stick together-"

"Just like you stuck with me when Myung was in your life? Or is that different because you were the one in love?!" You called him out on his bullshit and he took a step back from you as you stood up for yourself, you weren't about to let him away with all of the shit he'd done. Running to you whenever he and Myung would have an argument or he needed a little extra cash to tide him over from another payday. You were done playing those games with him.

"How does it feel to have a taste of your own medicine." You scoffed getting into the elevator and closing the doors before Jimin could say a word back to you. Jungkook squeezed your hand before raising it to his lips and giving you a small kiss to let you know he was proud of you. You felt alive and in power for once while Jimin was staring down at the papers, security escorting him off the premises as he tried to think of a way to explain all of this to his family.

Tagline: @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Read here on AO3!

When it comes to his children, Bruce has very few regrets. He loves them completely, scars and all. He wouldn’t want to change a single part of them.

But he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t regret the timing with which each of these beautiful souls entered his life. Bruce has six children, but he’s never had a baby, and isn’t that wrong? Isn’t that a pity? He missed so much of their lives—so many milestones that every parent wants to remember forever but that he’s not even had glimpses of. He wasn’t there for the first steps or the lost teeth or learning how to ride a bike. He missed all of his children learning to talk, missed watching Sesame Street with them in the morning and making soapy mohawks in the bathtub. Bruce missed everything. He missed moments that he can’t get back, no matter how hard he yearns for a rewind. Take him back. Return to him the moments he lost without even knowing it until they’d already slipped through his fingers. Bruce has a few mementos to get him by, but they only grant him glimpses of the years he missed. Dick has a bin of old tapes from the Flying Graysons’ best performances that he likes to watch on bad days. Occasionally he’ll let Bruce watch with him. There’s something magical about watching the young boy in the tapes swing on the trapeze and pull gravity-defying moves, all the while knowing what a strong man that boy will one day become. Jason came to the manor with very little, having to travel light while on the streets. There’s a shoebox under the bed in his old room salvaged from his mother’s things, containing a handful of photos from Jason’s toddler years, a stuffed animal or two, some loose possessions. Bruce used to go through them after Jason’s death, just to give himself something to hold on to. Tim had more than Dick and Jason combined: plenty of photos, report cards, baby teeth, and coloring books all saved in storage. But as much as there was, Bruce still only had glimpses of the real Tim. Every family photo was stiff, like an assortment of plastic dolls. The papers and drawings that have been collected are too crisp, like they were shoved into a childhood folder and forgotten about without a second glance, not even making it to the refrigerator. All Bruce has of Cass’ childhood are videotapes of training sessions. He refuses to watch them, for both her sake and his own. Duke has a photo album he keeps in his bedroom, compiling plenty of baby pictures and family vacations. He’s only shown it to Bruce once. Otherwise, he keeps it in his bookshelf, untouched but for the handful of times he’s visited his parents, showing them old memories in case it will miraculously jog something and put the shards of them back together. The longer it doesn’t work, the less he’s willing to tell. The League of Assassins has an entire storage room of files on Damian’s development. Bruce has seen it. It’s like every move the boy made was monitored and catalogued, detailed without so much as a lick of emotion to remind anyone that this was a child being discussed. There were no shiny milestones to celebrate, only completed stages. No one commemorated his first word or first time seeing a butterfly, but his first time using a wakizashi sword earned five entire pages. If Bruce could go back in time, he would snatch up every one of his children and give them the lives they deserve, right from the start. No pain. No dead parents. No neglect, no heartache, no scavenging on the streets just to survive the night. He would wipe their slates clean if it meant he could stave off their suffering, just for a little while longer. He would do anything to go back.

Back when Bruce was a child and tragedy hadn’t yet torn his family to bloody shreds, there was one Fourth of July on which his parents took him to the circus. Alfred had an open invitation to accompany them, but, being a Brit, he politely declined from the day’s festivities. “I’ll have you know, young sir, that I served as a spy for the British forces and mentored Alexander Hamilton during his teenage years.” Bruce was ninety-nine percent sure that Alfred wasn’t alive during the American Revolution. That day was the first time Bruce had been to the circus. It was a local one, small with very few extravagant spectacles, but his father bought him peanuts and afterward the three of them watched the fireworks in Gotham Park. It was a day that imprinted itself on Bruce’s memory, sticking with him long after they were gone. So when he sees a flyer announcing that Haly’s International Traveling Circus is visiting Metropolis on the same day Bruce has an interview with Lois Lane for some column on America’s wealthiest men, how can he turn the opportunity down? The air is warmed by summer rays, the entire field radiating Metropolis’ natural brightness. The scent of peanuts and popcorn wafts from all sides and the classic tinkling circus music fills his ears. The show doesn’t start for another half hour, so Bruce settles on walking around, unsure of what to do with himself. He should get some photos to bring home for Alfred. He’s always had a fascination with jugglers. After some perusing, Bruce pulls up under a tree, shaded against the thick trunk. He’s just pressed send on the pictures to Alfred when he hears a voice from above. “Hey, mister.” Bruce looks up to discover a boy perched on a tree branch two feet above his head. The kid looks around six years old with black hair that curls around his ears. He’s wearing a bright red and green costume—obviously one of the performers. How a child his age came to be part of the circus, Bruce can’t begin to guess. He’s missing his front teeth and his skin, tan with a honey glow, makes his nationality hard to place. Bruce blinks up at the boy. “Hello.” The kid drops down and catches on the branch with his hands, dangling with his bare feet kicking in the air. “Whatcha doing here?” Now that he’s paying attention, Bruce can detect the slightest accent. Romani, perhaps? “Why does anyone come to the circus?” The boy laughs. “You don’t look like the kind of person who goes to the circus.” “Then what kind of person do I look like?” The boy thinks, swinging back and forth like a cartoon monkey. How his hands aren’t scraped raw from gripping the rough bark, Bruce doesn’t know. “A lawyer, maybe. Or a president.” The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifts. “I’m neither of those things, unfortunately.” “Well, I’m an acrobat.” “I can see that.” “But I do other stuff too,” the kid tells him, “like I know how to juggle and how to walk on stilts and how to throw knives at targets. I’m getting real good at that.” “Are you sure a kid your age should be playing with knives?” The boy laughs. “You think knives are scary? You should see it when they let me play with the tigers.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You play with tigers?” That can’t be safe. Maybe he should have a talk with the ringmaster and make sure someone is ensuring that no little boy heads are getting bitten off by mighty jaws. “Oh yeah, the tigers are the best.” The kid swings his body upward, letting go of the branch and pulling a heart-stopping somersault midair as he falls. He lands on his feet without a wobble. “I know all of their names and they’re huge, like they’re this big”—he stretches out his arms as far as they will go, which makes the tigers a whopping two and a half feet tall—”and sometimes I’m even allowed to ride them!” Bruce leans back against the tree trunk, crossing his arms with a smile. “Is that right?” “Yeah!” The kid then launches into a string of chatter, so fast that it takes all of Bruce’s focus to keep up. He tells Bruce all about the circus’ tigers: what breed they are, how many they have, what they eat, what their names are (their actual names and the names the kid gave them; Marshmallow is his favorite), and how his dad once gave him permission to hold a hoop while a tiger leapt through it. The entire time, Bruce can’t help but wonder, is this what childhood is supposed to be like? Swinging on tree branches and giving oral reports about your favorite animals to complete strangers? Is this what growing up is like for normal children? Bruce doesn’t know whether to be envious of this little boy or concerned. He’s so innocent; it bleeds from every grin. There’s nothing weighing this kid down—literally and figuratively—and Bruce finds himself silently praying to a being he doesn’t believe in that it never changes. Let this kid stay pure, untouched by the evils of the world. Let him go his whole life swinging on branches and talking about tigers without a single setback. After a good ten minutes when the boy’s tumbled into a handstand and has moved on to tell Bruce about his favorite elephant Zitka, a feminine voice rings, “There you are, Dick. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A beautiful woman approaches the pair, wearing an identical red and green leotard. She’s got matching black hair and blue eyes—too spitting of an image to be anyone but his mother. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re supposed to be backstage.” “Sorry, Mom,” Dick says, turning right-side up, but he hasn’t lost his grin. Now that he thinks of it, Bruce doesn’t recall it waning once in the entire time they’ve been talking. She takes in Bruce, suit and all, and plasters on a stage smile, sticking out her hand. “Mary Grayson. You’ll have to forgive my son, he gets excited easily. He’ll talk your ear off for hours if you let him.” But the glimmer in her eye gives Bruce an inclination that she has no problem being an audience for her son’s happy rants. Bruce shakes her hand. “Bruce. I take it you’re the Flying Graysons I’ve been hearing so much about?” “The very same. I hope you’ll be seeing our show tonight.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He winks at the littlest Grayson, who beams. Mary ruffles Dick’s hair. “Well, this little robin and I should be getting ready now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Bruce.” “Likewise.” He leans down and shakes Dick’s small hand. “And if you ever come to Gotham, maybe you can tell me more about those tigers, eh?” Dick looks like he contains the sun itself. He’s sunshine incarnate. “Definitely!” He drags his feet when his mom starts leading him away, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Bye, Mr. Bruce!” He waves his hand like a windmill of its hinges, and Bruce can’t help but return it. Bruce hasn’t felt this content in a long time to the point where he has to stop in wonderment of it. It’s unlikely that Haly’s will end up coming to a place like Gotham anytime soon, but Bruce hopes for it anyway. After all, Gotham could use some sunshine.

Here’s the rest of it on AO3 because I don’t feel like formatting all 7,000 words on here lmao.

[zz-chikorita]

Unless it somehow gives spoilers for upcoming content in Jolly Rogers, could you tell us if your Leon and Guzma, or other characters, have an odd little hobby? Like does Leon secretly collect Pokemon cards, and Guzma is a pro shadow-puppet master or something like that?

Leon definitely collects Official Galar League Cards. When he was really little, his dad bought him a pack at the corner store and that's how he first became introduced to the concept of professional battling (since they didn't have a TV at that point). Leon was able to see his very first league battle because one of the cards had the Hammerlocke stadium in the background and it looked so cool he begged his father to take him there. It took a few months, but his dad saved up enough to pay for the train fare and stadium tickets.

In his adolescence, Leon's favorite card was one from Kabu's first few years as a gym leader. The picture was of Kabu post-workout wearing no shirt, his gym shorts, shoes/socks, and a towel on his neck. Leon just couldn't figure out why that card was his favorite.... or why he couldn't stop staring at it... maybe the lighting? Sure. We'll go with that.

And of course, Leon's big hobbies are running and playing piano. It's not really a spoiler because I've alluded to it, but Leon also likes going over to Piers' house to jam with him.

Guzma, just in general, loves music. He enjoys listening to it, finding new (and usually obscure) songs/artists online, sharing and discussing music with others... He even enjoys singing and he's actually not half bad.

(More under cut)

Anyone who's lived in the shady house will be able to tell you whether Guzma's in a good mood or not, cuz, if he is, he'll be humming or mumbling some little tune to himself, or drumming out a beat softly with his fingers or toes. It's the days the boss is still and silent that everyone knows to give him a wide berth.

He doesn't really do it anymore but, definitely as a kid, Guzma collected rocks (and shells, fossils, shark sharpedo teeth, a little bit of sea glass.... basically anything cool that might wind up on the beach). He still has a box of them somewhere... probably at his parents' house. There were a few from his collection he was always particularly attached to. There was one stone he carried on his person almost all the time as a good luck charm and because fidgeting with it/rubbing it's smooth outside was very soothing for him whenever he got stressed. He carried it everywhere until.... giving it Moon. He doesn't regret his choice.

And then, his other main hobbies, like discussed in the fic, are finding and reading scientific articles about bug Pokemon (although occasionally he branches out), swimming, and surfing.

Guzma's laptop is very old and runs very slowly, mostly to do the absurd amount of data he has stored in there in the form of PDFs. Not many people know this about Guzma, and he tries to keep it that way (mostly because of his own head game that he needs to keep up his reputation as this hard-ass punk so he can't be into no "nerd shit"). For this reason, the folder he stores all of these files in is titled "PORN"

Also, if one of the grunts walks in on him and he doesn't wanna stop reading he'll just say "get the hell out, I'm looking at porn" and technically he isn't lying.

I know you were probably joking, but the idea of Guzma making shadow puppets with the kids is absolutely adorable and I can definitely see them doing that at some point when they run out of power just to pass the time. Thus, I am absolutely making that a canon thing he does in this universe, I just wouldn't say he's a master of it 😂

[auswriteforyou]

Undeserving. (Ethan Choi, Chicago Med)

It was burned into her brain. Medically speaking, she knew that was impossible. She knew memories were less medical and more mental. Maybe she should schedule an appointment with Dr. Charles. Maybe he could get the memory of her husband having sex with April in an exam room on the 4th floor while she was doing life-saving surgery down the hall out of her head.

She understood the location choice. It was rarely used, the only time they made it up there was when no other bay was available. She had left the room feeling incredible. It was a difficult situation, one that required far too much attention and far too little preparation was given but it had come out with the best possible outcome. She wanted to find Ethan immediately, tell him what she’d accomplished and about the patient she’d grown close to in this process. She didn’t expect to find him in the exam room she heard a crash come from.

She had figured it was just a patient having wondered from their room but no. It was such a nightmare that she had no reaction to it at all. The scramble of them untangling, the sound of scrubs being pulled on and apologies falling on empty ears.

She filed the divorce papers the next day. She put in her transfer request that afternoon. He refused to sign them. Imagine that. He was unfaithful for months, treated her like a stranger for months, literally had sex with her best friend and now he won’t sign the damn paperwork. And here she was, almost a year later of talking only through an attorney from her very expensive law firm in New York because she didn’t even want to hear his voice.

But she was tired of wasting money and her efforts on getting someone as stubborn as him to do anything without getting what he wanted first. She pulled on her big girl pants this morning and decided that today was a good day for a whole lot of baggage. She boarded her plane, she landed, she came straight to the hospital and she was Pissed. The week long vacation she had been planning to Bermuda had been interrupted for this.

“No way.” Will Halstead greeted her at the door, eyes bright and smile shiny. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Do I look that bad?” She smiled, knowing damn well she looked like a four course meal. She’d used this year to become someone she was proud to recognize, to grow the pain and assert herself in ways she never dreamed she would. She was a chairwoman on more boards than she could count. Lead cardiologist in the most sought after position in the most sought after hospital in the world. She knew who she was, she was sure of it.

“Honestly, you’re smoking hot.” He knew how to make a girl feel special. “Do I wanna know why you’re here? You looked like you were about to walk through the walls.”

She held up the file folder, a grimace on her face and he didn’t need any more context clues. They’d all heard the stories, how the papers got served to him in the middle of a surgery and the refusal to sign or send them back on his part. It was annoying honestly.

“Help a girl out, where might I find him?”

“Surgery Room 1.” Oh, good. He wouldn’t be able to run away.

The gallery was almost full, apparently a good surgery in their books. Thankfully, she’d timed it just right that they were beginning to close. She greeted her old coworkers, offering quick hellos and we’ll catch ups because she was always a business first kind of lady.

Ethan stepped more into view and that flutter she remembered from the first time they met flew into her chest. Had he managed to get more attractive? Her finger pressed the intercom. She cleared her throat.

“Ethan, if you don’t sign these papers you’re going to be the one who needs to be sewn up.” His head snapped at the speed of light to her in the gallery. She could tell it took him a minute to recognize her, or to make sure she was actually there. Could have been a mixture of both.

“Darling?” She rolled her eyes, waving the papers at him.

“Meet me at my car when you’re done. Bring a pen.”

He did not, in fact, bring a pen. He barely found her because he wasn’t expecting the Lamborghini rental car. He climbed into the passenger seat, eyes  never leaving her face. It was kind of creepy.

“How have you been?” She snorted.

“A year of putting me through the political ringer and that’s what you start with?” She tossed the papers in his lap, trying not to let him see the hurt she still had lingering in her eyes. “Sign these. Please.”

“Talk to me.” He was quick to rebuttal. “Please. Let’s just have one conversation. I’ve spoken to no one but your lawyer for months.”

“Exactly Ethan,” He cringed at the lack of nickname, “I didn’t think I had to spell it out how much I didn’t want to talk with you.”

“Please.” He knew he had no right to ask her for anything but she was here on a mission. She wasn’t leaving without a resolution. “How have you been?”

“I’m head of Cardiology in New York, I have a dog, I bought a new car and recently found out I am allergic to fish. How’s April?” That was a low blow. She knew it, he knew it but she traveled far too many miles to not get her little jabs in.

“She moved away, I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her since that day.” At least he was honest. She used to pride herself on being able to tell when he was lying but after all that, she didn’t know what she knew.

“Awesome, glad to know it was all for nothing. Now that we’re all caught up, sign them.”

“No.”

“Ethan, the next option is to have it annulled by the court in which they give me half of everything you have.”

“You were the only thing I had that ever mattered.” She felt her mouth drop open, felt like he had slapped her in the face.

“You’re kidding right? That’s how you treat the most important thing in your life then? I’d hate to be the things you hate. Honestly, fuck that.”

“I fucked up, I take full responsibility. I won’t gaslight, I won’t say you did anything wrong because you didn’t. I was weak, I was the one who sought out something new because I was afraid of my own insecurities as a man, as a husband. I thought I would never be good enough for you and I set out to prove it. It’s not that you made me feel that way or made me feel like I should be more, I just convinced myself I wasn’t.”

It was silent for a long moment, the damage between them beginning to sew itself back up because, for once, he was opening up to her.

“I fought tooth and nail for us, from dating to engagement to marriage. I fought for you when your brain fought against you. I fought for you when you couldn’t fight for yourself. And at the first sign of me healing myself, of me choosing myself for once, you ran off with my best friend because you both felt insecure about things out of anyone’s control.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. That’s the worst part. It’s the worst part because I took all the respect, all the trust, love, compassion you gave me and stomped on it. I treated you with such disregard and disrespect that it makes me sick and darling,” She looked at him for the first time since they decided to open up, “I am truly sorry.”

She stared at him for a long moment, the anger from earlier finding a lighter lull in her chest as she searched for any sign of a lie. She’d reinvented herself, made herself stronger through becoming who she had always wanted to be. He had reinvented himself by realizing where his mistakes were and how to better himself to be who he wanted, needed to be. She wondered for a moment if he was coming to the same realization as her. They weren’t the same people they had been. They had grown, sprouted leaves and vines and built themselves up from the roots.

“I forgive you.” Out of all the things to come out of her mouth, neither of them expected that.

“What does that mean?” His voice was almost a whisper, his fingers that had saved many lives toying with the edges of the file folder.

“It means we talk,” She took the folder from him, tossing it into the backseat without care. “And we figure out what this means, we don’t lie to each other and we try. Both of us this time. I can’t float this relationship, whatever it is or is not, we have to be on the same page.”

He looked at her like she’d put the stars in the sky, sewn him up with the tidal waves and took them to the moon. She wondered if he’d keep looking at her like that. It didn’t scare her to think that he would. They didn’t kiss, they didn’t jump into each others arms and scream at the top of their lungs about love and happiness. They let their pinkies brush over the console, their hearts and minds race at the thought of whats to be built and allowed themselves to begin to grow, with each other.

--

it’s been a hot minute but my fingers started tapping and that was that! This was a request from an Anon that I was happy to fill. I hope you enjoy, I apologize for the wait. It’s also been a LOOOOOOng time since watching the show, I don’t have any plot lines. I don’t even know who is still on it, hopefully I was vague enough to not deviate too far off script. (also I didn’t get to proofread this, I'm sorry). Thank you for requesting and happy new year!

[3pirouette]

Fic: Six Dates, Times, and Places (1/1)

Title: Six Dates, Times, and Places By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: Endgame Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 3488 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: The night before Steve leaves to return the stones, Bucky gives him one last mission.

A/N: Check out THIS POST for links to a guy on Tik Tok who says it about Steve and Bucky better than I ever could. This was inspired by his posts, and this satisfies the “Bucky Barnes” square on my Steggy Bingo Bash card.

~*~ The Night Before

Bucky sat across from him, quiet. Steve was waiting him out, and Bucky was thankful, for the millionth time, for his best friend. He scratched his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I just… I don’t know how to say it, exactly.”

Steve kicked his feet up on the coffee table between them, “If it’s about me going tomorrow- it’ll be quick. Five seconds for you, not even.” Steve smiled and laughed lightly, trying to reassure his friend. “Doubt you could even finish taking a piss in the time I’m gone.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, his eyes still shut tight. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“I’m not worried. We did it before…” Bucky opened his eyes, watching Steve cross his arms. Bucky knew his friend was harboring at least a little anxiety even if he didn’t want to admit it. He could see it in the set of his shoulders.

Bucky couldn’t keep the smile off his face, but it was more from nerves and the gnawing feeling in his stomach that what he was about to do would somehow screw it all up. “Yeah, see, that’s the thing. It won’t be ten seconds for you.”

“A few hours—”

“Years.”

Steve tilted his head at Bucky’s correction, but didn’t say anything.

“You see, I thought I was going nuts, when they first got all that programming out of me. When Shuri insisted I could trust my memories, because they were…” Bucky stopped shaking his head. He’d told Steve some of it. His best friend knew what nightmares haunted him.

“But there were a few times…” he started again, leaning forward and running his hand through his hair, “There was this one memory that I just could not get to make any sense. And now?” He laughed, lightly at first, but it grew. It grew until he was actually smiling and he looked up at Steve with joy in his eyes. “Now I know it’s real, because time travel is fucking real.”

Bucky’s grin was contagious, and Steve couldn’t help but smile a little. “I don’t understand.”

Bucky nodded, his voice still light and anxious. “I know you don’t. But I don’t know if I should tell you, either. Won’t it like- mess up the space-time continuum or something?”

Steve shrugged. “Bruce and Strange say anything we do- did- in the past will be fixed when I put the stones back.” He leaned forward, kicking his feet back down and placing his elbows on his knees. “I don’t claim to really understand it, but Strange assured me that it will work out. That the things that have happened, that will happen, are supposed to and…” Steve spayed his hands, shaking his head. “I gotta trust these guys know more about it than I do.”

Bucky sat quietly for a minute, his hands interlaced, his flesh fingers playing over the ridges in his vibranium hand. He stood, pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Steve. He didn’t let the man take it, though, just held his hand in both of his, the paper between them, and looked down at him. His voice was low when he finally spoke, serious. Melodious Russian fell from his lips. “Now you,” he nodded down at Steve.

Steve was confused, but he tried to repeat it back, stumbling over the sounds.

Bucky pursed his lips and shook his head, still holding Steve’s hand tight. “You have to say it exactly as I say it, and you have to promise me you’re never going to forget it, ok?”

“Buck- what—”

Bucky’s dark look stopped Steve’s words. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” Steve’s reply was without hesitation.

They repeated the call and response a dozen times until Steve’s words sounded exactly like Bucky’s.

Bucky let go of Steve’s hand, satisfied. Steve unfurled the small folded paper, his brows furrowing as he looked back up. Bucky’s shoulders slumped, a memory he wasn’t ready to share taking over. “You’ll know,” he mumbled as he walked away, “you’ll know.”

~*~ 1948

Steve tried to keep a low profile as he moved down the path. It was a long and winding path along the riverfront, and he didn’t know what he was looking for, which made things worse.

Date, time, place. Six neat rows in Bucky’s blocky handwriting on a scrap of paper. He didn’t know for sure what they were, but he had guesses.

He knew the nightmares that haunted Bucky. He knew about some of the things he’d done. Steve wanted to help, he did, but he only had enough Pym Particles for one more trip. He picked the earliest date on the list and prayed he could find Bucky and stop him, find a way to save him, before anything else happened.

He prayed he figured it out this time, because in his heart he knew he’d use those particles to go to the next date on the list if he didn’t, and end up taking the long way back to his friends.

He wasn’t abandoning Bucky, not when he’d so clearly asked him for help.

It was the only thing that had made sense. Steve couldn’t quite tease out why the Russian phrase was so important, but he’d spent the night awake, lying in bed, repeating it over and over. Buck had asked for help without saying it, had given him the choice and the opportunity, knowing they were giving him a few more Pym Particles than he needed, just in case. He was going to overpower Bucky and… and help him. It was the only option he had.

He knew he couldn’t take Bucky back with him for multiple reasons, but maybe he could get him to someone that could help. It would be too early for Fury, but Howard, maybe, or Phillips…

The walk along the Potomac was buzzing with people, the crisp Spring air of ’48 a draw, the cherry trees in full bloom around them. It would have been a nice night for a stroll if he wasn’t so anxious. The cheap windbreaker he bought only barely covered the shape of the shield on his back, but it kept the chill of the wind off the water away. It would have been a beautiful place for a walk if he wasn’t so intently looking for any sign of the Winter Soldier…

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued across the way. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

There she was, just sitting under one of the cherry trees in a little nook away from the water, legs crossed, a cup of coffee in one hand and eyes on the folder in her other hand.

He watched for what felt like forever, his eyes glued to the way she sipped the coffee, the attention she was giving the file, the way she bounced her top leg and wiggled her toes to keep her shoe on just right.

He’d been afraid of this.

He’d been afraid of coming here and seeing her.

Peggy Carter. Alive. Breathing. Young and beautiful and within a few yards of him.

He almost hadn’t made it out of Lehigh last time. Tony never knew he’d seen her, never knew that he almost gave it all up for a chance to hear her voice say his name again.

He’d asked Tony to put it all on the line, and he’d been ready to throw the future of the masses away just to hear his name on her lips.

She was so much younger here. Still in the SSR. Still making a name for herself. Still working to build Shield.

Still two years away from a marriage to a man whose name he didn’t know, and didn’t think he wanted to know. He’d never asked her, and she’d never said. He was happy she moved on. Proud that she’d been able to do so much professionally and personally.

But as he stood, the cherry blossom petals falling around her, making her look like a princess out of some fantasy movie, he wanted nothing more than to march up to her and fall to his knees and tell her everything.

He wanted to rest his weary head in her lap and feel her red nails scrape through his hair and lull him to calm.

He wanted to hear the soft English accent tell him that he was alright. That he’d made the right choices.

He wanted her to know that he loved her, deeply, and he had never and would never stop loving her even seventy years from now.

His heart was pounding in his chest, the effort to keep his feet where they were monumental when he saw it: the tiniest reflection of light along her shoulder.

His stomach clenched and his mind raced. He knew that glint, he’d seen it far too often on the battlefield a lifetime ago. He’d never forget the way the light reflected off Bucky’s sharpshooter rifle as he adjusted it to get his man in his sights. He’d seen it too many times.

Steve was yelling and moving before he could think.

She looked up at him, already wide eyes growing comically wider as she saw him, but listened as he shouted for her to hit the ground. Her papers scattered as she dove to the concrete, tucking and rolling with him as he covered her and pulled her behind the bench as two silenced bullets put holes in the concrete in front of them.

He pulled her to her knees behind the bench. He shed the jacket he was wearing and pulled out the shield from his back, hiding her behind it. Her breaths were shaky, jaw bouncing as she looked at him, unable to form words. She reached up, a hand going to his cheek, disbelieving.

She was about to speak when another bullet ricocheted off the vibranium, the sound telling them both the shooter was closer than they’d thought. She scrambled, pulling up the side of her skirt and pulling a gun from her garter. “I expect answers,” she told him shakily as she turned towards the bench.

He nodded, refocusing. “Stay here I’ll—”

“Bloody unlikely!”

Another shot against the shield startled them, this one even closer. Steve didn’t give her a choice as he stood. “Cover me!”

He jumped over the concrete bench and dropped the shield just in time to raise it again and ward off another shot. He tried to stay calm, tried to think of him as the Winter Soldier, but all he could see was Bucky in his full tactical gear, face covered, mentally broken and twisted and aiming at Peggy with a chilling, myopic gaze.

Steve threw himself forward, knocking Bucky off his feet. The men grappled on the concrete as the people around them scattered, yelling. He could hear Peggy behind him, but he tried his best to keep his focus. Bucky had always been good in a fight, but Hydra and the Russians had trained him well. Steve managed to get the gun out of his hands, kicking it away toward Peggy for safe keeping as Bucky managed to get to his feet and ran at him again, this time a knife in his hand.

It was like deja vu, the way Bucky fought. The blows and parries were almost identical to the fight he put up years ago when Steve met Bucky as the Winter Soldier for the first time, fighting under the interstate. Steve was on the defensive as soon as they were up on their feet again, thankful for the shield he was able to keep between them. The crack of a gunshot filled the air and Bucky’s right knee collapsed for a moment, enough for him to lose focus as he looked back at Peggy.

Steve took the opening. He managed a spin, taking Bucky off guard and knocking him to the pavement, already off balance from the bullet wound. The victory was momentary: Bucky kicked himself back to his feet and pounced at Steve, despite the limp in his step.

After a frenzied moment of pushing, pulling and punching, Steve growled, pushed hard, and hit Bucky in the side of the head with his shield. “Bucky, stop!”

Bucky stepped back, pulling a small handgun from the back of his belt as he shook his head. His eyes cleared for a moment before the cloud of the Winter Soldier took them back over. “You are not my mission,” he growled out in English, the mask over his face slurring the words as he lifted the gun and leveled it over Steve’s shoulder.

“Steve, I don’t have a shot!” Peggy shouted from behind him.

It felt like time was standing still. Like he could step out of his body and see it all. In that moment, he understood exactly what Bucky had wanted, what Bucky had been trying to tell him.

Years, Bucky had said. But he’d said it with a smile.

Six dates, times, and places.

Not times and places where Steve could stop him.

Six times and places where Steve already did stop him.

Six dates, times, and places where the Winter Soldier would try to assassinate the head of Shield, Margaret Carter.  

He charged forward, jumping and catching Bucky around the waist with his legs, forcing his shot to go wild up in the air as he dropped the shield and locked his arms around Bucky’s neck. They both groaned, hard, as they hit the ground, but Steve didn’t let up his hold. He waited just long enough for him to slow his struggle, and he said it. Loud and clear, Steve repeated the Russian phrase Bucky had taught him, and the Winter Soldier went limp in his arms.

Bucky stopped struggling, his eyes clouded and unfocused. Slowly, Steve untangled himself, letting the man stand. He grabbed his shield as Peggy slowly got closer, gun drawn high. The Winter Soldier looked at them both, looked around, and without a word disappeared back in to the outcrop of bushes he’d come from.

Steve and Peggy followed wordlessly, but by the time they’d beat their way through the underbrush to the edge of the river, he was gone. Not a footprint, not a broken branch, nothing to give them a hint of the direction he went.

Peggy stopped a few feet away from Steve, staring at him in the setting sun, her gun still in her hand and only a second from being expertly aimed at him if need be. “That man was sent to kill me.”

Steve nodded, shield hanging limply from his hand, heart pounding. “Yes.”

He could see the shake starting in her hands. “And you stopped it.”

“Yes,” he nodded again, afraid to step closer.

She closed the distance, jaw clenched tight, stopping only inches from him. Her eyes roamed his face, looking for something that he didn’t know how to give. “Are you working for them, now?” Peggy asked cautiously.

“Them?” He tried to slow down his breathing, but found it was near impossible now that he could smell her perfume.

“The Russians,” she supplied, pursing her lips tight as she inched closer. “What you said to him…” She took a deep breath, “Though I suppose if I have to tell you…” Her smile was tentative. “You never were a good liar.”

He slipped the shield on his back slowly, never taking his eyes from hers, his voice soft but stern. “I’m not working with the Russians.”

Peggy’s hand reached out, slowly coming to rest on his chest. Her smile grew as she felt him, firm and real, under her fingers. “Where have you been, Steve? I thought you were dead.”

His hand covered hers, gently. “It’s…” He faltered. He’d never imagined actually talking to her, actually being forced to say all that had happened, all that would happen. He didn’t know how to get her to believe him, to trust him. He swallowed, hard, and took Peggy’s hand in both of his. “It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you as much as you’re willing to listen to.” He cleared his throat, emotion welling up. “First, I think I should apologize for missing our date.”

Her hand tightened her hold on his, but her eyes stayed sharp. “Copacabana Club at 9 in the evening.”

Steve smiled and shook his head, knowing she’d need to hear it from his lips. “Stork Club. Eight on the dot. I was gonna have them play something slow.”

“So you won’t step on my…” She let the sentence fall away and nodded, satisfied. Her smile was blinding, even though tears were welling in her eyes. “You’re late.”

He let his hand fall over her cheek and pushed the hair away from her face. “I won’t be ever again. I promise.”

~*~ Immediately After

Bucky waited until Sam stepped back, bag with the shield in it slung over his shoulder, to approach him. “Was I right or was I right?”

Bucky saw Steve’s shoulders shake with laughter. He wanted to say he looked frail, but he could tell despite the wrinkles around his eyes and the larger clothes designed to hide his frame that he was still strong and sharp.

Steve looked up at Bucky, smiling as he sat next to him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Thought I might mess things up.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, hands still stuffed in his pockets. “Wasn’t sure if I was supposed to or not, or even if my own brain was fucking with me, so I figured a few hints and your smart ass would figure it out.”

Steve nodded, his eyes tearing over. “We tried, Buck.”

Bucky lifted his right hand, pressing it to Steve’s shoulder. “I know you did.” He looked his friend in the eyes, and could see past the wrinkles and the grey hair to his best friend that he shared sleepovers with in the floor of his Brooklyn bedroom. “You guys tried really hard to get me out of it. And I’m convinced, now more than ever, it’s all gone exactly the way it was supposed to go.”

Steve nodded, looking away over the horizon. “I’m still sorry about it.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky moved his hand back to his lap, lacing his flesh fingers with his vibranium ones. “You got me out eventually. You stopped me when it counted.”

Steve’s jaw clenched, “Not every time.”

“Enough times.” Bucky was adamant, his voice sharp and brokering no arguments. “You know that if I had—" Bucky couldn’t say it, didn’t want to say it. Howard’s death was already heavy on his conscious, but if he’d managed to kill Peggy, too? He didn’t know how he’d be looking Steve in the eyes right now.

Steve softened, “I know.”

The comfortable silence between them was filled by the sound of a flock of birds taking flight, and he and Steve watched for long moments until the birds were gone and it was quiet again.

Bucky asked a question he’d been waiting years to know the answer to, “Who was that guy in ’86?”

Steve chuckled. “The one that kicked your ass?” Bucky nodded, amused by Steve’s mirth. “That was our son.”

“No shit!” Bucky smiled, clapping Steve on the back. “I guess we have a lot to catch up on.”

Steve nodded, reaching a hand out. “Help an old man up.” Bucky stood and pulled him up, and Steve finally asked what he wanted to know for so long. “What did those words do?”

“You never found out?” Bucky asked, his brow furrowed. He could See Sam and Bruce starting to come closer. He knew their time alone was drawing to an end, at least for now. Steve shook his head, and Bucky licked his lips, looking away. “Random string of words that formed a deactivation code. A failsafe one of my earliest handlers built into whatever they did to my brain. It effectively erased the last mission and sent me back to my handler. Always managed to screw me up so bad they had to scrap whatever they were doing. It was meant to keep them safe if I ever went off on them.”

Steve looked at him, eyes sad. “Did it?”

Bucky looked away, not wanting Steve to see the darkness in him. “I never gave them enough time to say it.” He looked back, shaking his head. “There was always some part of me that knew you, though. That gave you enough time to get it out.”

Steve reached out and hugged his friend, and Bucky let himself melt into the embrace. Steve had saved him, more times than he could count now, and he knew that those memories he thought had to be hallucinations were real.

Six dates, times, and places where Captain America had stopped the Winter Soldier, and six dates, times, and places where Steve Rogers gave Bucky Barnes hope.

~*~

A/N- So, this was conceived as a singular story, but now that I’ve written it I KNOW that if I were a reader I’d want to know about those other 5 dates. I don’t have anything planned for them AT THIS TIME, but I will leave this open to potentially being a series, and I’ll fill in those dates as I come up with compelling ideas.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 31

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 31

"Stop staring. It's not like I can run away." Lin Yan couldn't help muttering.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He grabbed Xiao Yu's wrist. Hadn't they buried the hatchet?

"I said I wouldn't drive you away."

Xiao Yu turned his head and looked out the window like he couldn't hear him. For some reason, Lin Yan felt that his demeanour made him look sad, like the shadow standing alone under a street lamp on a rainy night, waiting for him quietly outside the car window for the day that he opened the door.

However, there had been some strange developments during this period. Lin Yan found that when he was concentrating, he could close his eyes and perceive a greenish-black shadow in Xiao Yu's direction. The butterfly orchid on the windowsill had a warm, pale yellow glow floating around it, but it was much fainter than the one he had seen around the little Daoist priest on the mountain. Lin Yan found an explanation for this in a journal devoted to Daoism. All living creatures in the world have yang energy. When ghosts pretend to be human, looking at their aura of yin-yang energy can usually break the illusion.

In ancient times, this ability was called "Opening the Third Eye." It usually took a long time to practice and it was extremely rare to acquire it accidentally like Lin Yan had. He sighed as he stared at the dream-repellent talisman on the paper and thought that this was a good thing. The next time he came across a strange person, he'd be able to tell whether they were alive or dead, meaning he wouldn't get tricked by the little girl again.

Since the little girl had shown up Lin Yan and Xiao Yu were basically inseparable, which really made him feel embarrassed. He wasn't sure why but Xiao Yu’s presence seemed to have completely aroused his hidden desires. Lin Yan couldn't remember ever having these kinds of urges before. Now, he was taunted by the slender figure in front of him, and he had to rush to the washroom for the third time to relieve his uncomfortable situation.

After a steamy dream, the habits he had abandoned during his adolescence suddenly made a resurgence. Lin Yan locked the bathroom door, pressing himself against the door and wrapped his fingers around his shaft. He slowly reached moved to the tip, pressing it, rubbing it; the whole thing feeling like it was on fire. Lin Yan bit his fist and muffled a groan, impatiently adding more pressure. When he stroked the underside, the top pulsed painfully. When he stroked the topside, the emptiness underneath him made it so uncomfortable he could cry. Nothing he did was enough to satisfy him. He held onto the sink to catch his breath and roughly splashed his face with cold water to extinguish the heat in his belly. "You pervert," Lin Yan scolded himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Fortunately, Xiao Yu didn't stick to him like he did before. He even took the initiative to stay by his side a few times and he never moved to avoid him. Lin Yan wiped his hands with a towel and suddenly remembered what time it was, making him slightly aggravated.

Professor File Folder's secretary had called him a few days later than planned while Lin Yan was in the middle of being constantly tortured. When he heard the sweet female voice on the phone, a shock of fear ran through him. Since the girl in red had appeared, he was instinctively wary of any female stranger. The female secretary said somewhat apologetically that the team had just returned from a business trip with the feng shui master, and was finishing the roster of the Ming tomb archaeology artifacts.

"It's a bit late today. Are you free tomorrow or the day after tomorrow? You can come directly to the institute to see the materials you need."

"Let's do it tomorrow." Lin Yan casually drew a talisman on the paper, a charm meant for deception. "I can come at 10 o'clock if that works for you."

"That works." The female secretary paused: "Umm. . . can you not tell the professor that I'm just calling you now? I've only been here for a short while, it'd be embarrassing if he found out."

Lin Yan hung up the phone and saved the secretary's number on his phone. When he looked up again, Xiao Yu was still sitting in the same posture, as if he didn't care about that discussion at all. He threw the pen into the sofa and rubbed his forehead against Xiao Yu's shoulder. He murmured: "I found something that might explain your situation. Come with me tomorrow?"

Xiao Yu's eyes went cold. Lin Yan guessed that he would react that way. He sighed and said: "I know you don't like it, but I think this whole thing started when I entered your tomb. The two of us are connected, and now even Second Immortal Gu's spirit is being dragged into it. As the saying goes, it is better to take the initiative than wait around for death to show up. Maybe the person who brought me to your tomb will know something."

"It's dangerous." Xiao Yu frowned.

"I know." Lin Yan dragged his pillow into his arms. He thought for a second: "I still have you. Really, you make me feel much safer."

Xiao Yu didn't deny it. He gently touched Lin Yan's hair, with something he couldn't read hidden in his deep eyes. Lin Yan grew anxious and subconsciously grabbed Xiao Yu's wrist. He asked: "You'll come with me, right?"

Xiao Yu remained silent for a while and then nodded.

---------

When he brought A-Yan some dinner, Lin Yan mentioned how he was being forced by Xiao Yu to learn Daoism at home. The little Daoist priest was so excited that he didn't even touch his dinner, instead pestering him to share more details. The books made Daoism out to be much simpler than it truly was. Each spell required a focused mindset in order for it to work. The most talented people only tracing out the symbol might get a measly tenth of the intended effect, but most would only get a scrap of useless paper.

"I-I'll teach you when I get out of the hospital." The little Daoist's pale face flushed with excitement and his eyes were gleamed brightly: "It won't be as good as my master's lessons, but it should be fine for a beginner."

Lin Yan didn't know how to react. He lay down on the next hospital bed with his head resting on his arms, staring at the ceiling of the room in a daze. He said that he was unlucky enough. Not long ago, he was sitting in his classroom and talking about his archaeological experience with the shy girls in the class, freaking them out whenever he mentioned the corpse. The youngest man in the dormitory pointed to the little Daoist sitting in the corner and told Lin Yan to glance over at him and that he should be careful. There were rumours that people who offended him in their freshman year said they saw ghosts. He squinted his eyes and made faces, making everyone laugh.

But now he was being targeted by a ghost. He was worried about things that he didn't know how to fix. He had even bought a can of cinnabar to learn how to exorcise ghosts from the little Daoist priest. Lin Yan sighed and lamented: "I want to learn, but I don't want to be forced to do it."

"He's been weird recently. He has a lot on his mind, but he won't tell me what he's thinking." Lin Yan rubbed his face. "A-Yan, what do you think ghosts think about all day long?"

The little Daoist was silent for a while, and answered the wrong question: "You care about him very much."

Lin Yan turned to face A-Yan, subconsciously playing with the sheets with his fingers. He helplessly said: "Obviously I care. We're stuck together 24/7. Even my girlfriend wouldn't get this kind of treatment." He glanced at the phone and frowned, pushing himself up on the bed: "I have to go. It's Weiwei's birthday. I promised I'd be there and I shouldn't be late."

"Weiwei?"

"The one who upgraded our tickets for us during the lecture." Lin Yan glanced sheepishly at Xiao Yu.

A-Yan tore off a loose thread from the blanket. The little Daoist priest twisted the cotton thread around his fingers loosely. He gestured his sharp chin towards Xiao Yu, and inquired: "He's letting you go?"

Lin Yan was going to just nod his head but suddenly clued into what the Daoist had said. He threw the pillow towards the little Daoist priest, and said happily, "There's nothing to let go of. Even people being stalked by ghosts have basic human rights, don't they?"

The little Daoist put his chin on the pillow. He shook his head: "I-I can see that he likes you."

Lin Yan stiffened. His tone was somewhat unnatural: "Stop talking nonsense. What does it matter who he likes." Lin Yan packed the dinner containers and hurriedly changed the subject: "What do you want to eat tomorrow? I have ribs at home. I could make soup for you?"

A-Yan stared at him for a long time. His skin was very pale but his eyes were very dark. His pupils were more dilated than usual. In addition, he was covered with a sheen of sweat. At first glance, he looked a bit like a reptile. After staring at Lin Yan, his whole body was covered in a cold sweat. A-Yan's mouth twitched. A trace of coldness flashed in his eyes and he said softly: "Ghosts are very possessive about what they want. Don't mess with them."

Lin Yan's hands stopped moving. After A-Yan spoke, he suddenly felt that the room had grown too quiet and he panicked. His eyes fell from Xiao Yu's back and moved all the way down to his black boots standing on a small section of floor tile. Lin Yan barely squeezed out a smile: "Don't worry, I know. We're just strangers, really. I want to live a normal life again."

Lin Yan had always tried to avoid going to the same events as Weiwei, but he couldn't really avoid it this time. On one hand, he promised he'd go. On the other hand, he was getting sick of staying looked up in his apartment recently and was bored. Just looking at the talismans and spells plastered all over his house, the thread-bound books on the table, sofa, and his bed, Lin Yan felt like he had become an old witch in a fairy tale. All he was missing was a broomstick to fly out of his twelfth-floor apartment. He just wanted to hear another human voice. Lin Yan sighed. Any human voice other than Xiao Yu, A-Yan or Yin Zhou.

But, in the end, once Lin Yan showed up at the address, he was regretting it. Weiwei always loved to have a good time. He didn't make it in time for dinner and was dragged directly to Houhai for the second stop of the night when he showed up at the restaurant he was supposed to meet them at. The summer night was warm and humid, with bars lining the lake's shoreline. The evening breeze was filled with the light scent of lotus flowers. The atmosphere reminded Lin Yan about the old days. After dinner, he and Weiwei would walk along the lake with a street lamp casting their shadows on the ground. When the jazz musician took off his hat and whistled at the two of them, Weiwei unceremoniously blew kisses back, and Lin Yan smiled warmly at her side.

In all fairness, his past with Weiwei was pretty good. It wasn't perfect, but it was simple and heartfelt.

At that time, he also seriously thought about proposing to Weiwei. He had thought out a future that he could see her being a part of.

So what happened?

The background music of the bar was wild, the strong drum beats hitting his eardrums, and even his heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the music. Lin Yan was bored out of his mind. He sat in the corner with a cup of Chivas whiskey infused with black tea. Men and women embraced in the dark, twisting their bodies between the small gaps between the tables, like a frenzy of madness. The amount of tea in his cup was slowly going down and the whiskey burned his throat. When he drank it all, Lin Yan felt that the world was spinning. He dizzily lay across the table, whispering a name over and over again.

. . . Xiao Yu, Xiao Yu.

His brain was muddled from the alcohol and it didn't have a filter anymore. It took Lin Yan a long time to understand what he was saying. "You're a fucking pervert." He smacked himself.

[tinyshinysylveon]

i suddenly got this idea where izuku is an anonymous famous editor for youtubers who hire him to edit their videos because he’s a professional at doing it, and katsuki is an upcoming youtube vlogger who travels around the world and yet doesn’t know how to edit his own videos to save his life, so no matter what he does, he always seem to mess up even the basics of editing (part 1/??)

“i think you need professional help” kirishima says as he watches katsuki trying to drag an edited cut on to his video for the umpteenth time that day “shut up, shitty hair just give me a minute-” an error popup. “did you just.. deleted the video?” “....”

katsuki keeps trying, he even watched tutorials on youtube (while skipping important segments ofc because he can totally do that all on his own!) but his patience is wearing thin until kirishima recommended him to someone who’s known in the youtube community for their famous editing skills 

“..deku?” katsuki stares at his screen showing a youtube profile with the name deku as their username and an icon of all might with edited-in sunglasses “okay look, he may seem suspicious to you, but i gotta tell you bakugou, he’s legit, i’ve seen his videos and they look awesome!” well katsuki will be the judge of that despite this deku having 5 mil+ subscribers than him!

the blonde spent the whole day watching deku’s videos which mostly consists of amvs (anime music videos) and games, especially the ones that required a lot of effort to make, plus he even made tutorials! so he gotta give him credit for that, but alas, katsuki is still somehow having trouble following directions and gave up on the latest tutorial video on how to add an easy transition 

when kirishima came to check in with katsuki, all he heard were multiple clicks and grumbled noises, he let out an exasperated sigh “i can’t believe you’re still trying..” “what the fuck do you want me to do kirishima?” katsuki was trying not to flip his table at this point. “hire him obviously!” the red head yells out as if that’s the answer to their problems “..and how do you suppose i do that?” 

it actually took a lot of convincing in kirishima’s part, but katsuki finally threw away his pride and decided to send a message to deku’s business email that was left under his about page on youtube 

“..i want you to become my editor and help me in becoming the #1 youtube travel vlogger in the community” kirishima reads the message out loud that’s displayed on the screen, “you sure you want to send it like this?” “i don’t see anything wrong with it?” “but don’t you think it’s too.. blunt? no formalities or anything like, hello i’ve seen your videos and i would be honored to have you as my editor, you know?” katsuki just shrugged, “it’s too late, i already sent it to him”

about half a day later, deku replied back, “Good afternoon Mr.Explosionmurder, I appreciate that you requested me to become your editor and would like to discuss further details about our agreement via discord. You can contact me by adding my username, deku#2463. I look forward to hearing from you.” to this day, kirishima still can’t believe his eyes when he read the message

“oi shitty hair, what’s a discord?” 

it wasn’t katsuki’s fault that the majority of time he spent in high school was doing his best to stay on top of assignments and projects, plus being in the A honor roll, he didn’t really get to decide on his career until after he graduated, thanks to the courtesy of his parents owning their own modeling industry, he put the money he saved up to good use in traveling around the world and vlogging it for people to see with kirishima as his traveling partner

he explained all of this and his reasonings to deku on discord once he reached out to him and figured out how to use the platform, but katsuki was still suspicious regarding his video editing skills and wanted to see it firsthand on how his videos would look like as a finished product

deku: fair enough, send me your videos and i’ll see what i can do, until then, if you deem it satisfactory, which i’m confident that you will, i request a 50/50 payment on your revenue. take it or leave it. 

for some reason, katsuki agreed to it without a second thought due to the challenging tone from the message; “i can’t believe you! i told you to trust him! why do you have to doubt him?! haven’t you already seen his videos?!” kirishima was full on panicking at this point, how were they going to make money?! “shut up, i know what i’m doing! i know what’s best for my videos!” it was a good chance too since they’re currently in hong kong and planning to shoot the top 10 tourist spots to visit as claimed by an article he found online

a few days later, katsuki finally got all the videos piled up in one folder and sent them all in a google drive to share with deku just as he requested, he even mentioned to him thru discord message to follow the cues he was giving him on his videos such as when he and kirishima took a stroll and tried foods in the temple street night market; “hey deku, i want you to do a close up of kirishima eating the curry fish ball with erotic music playing in the background” he smirks while focusing the camera on the red head eating without a care in the world and not noticing katsuki making the comment, “mmm dude, mmm you gotta try this, it’s so freakin’ good- wait bro, how long have you been pointing the camera at me?” 

in less than a week, deku sent a reply back with the link to the fully edited video; deku: hmm, not gonna lie, but your cues were actually helpful and dare I say, creative? katsuki took it as a compliment and opened the link to the video file, it was about a few GB so it shouldn’t take a long time to upload on youtube, but.. was it ready? he called in kirishima to watch it with him and was actually prepared for it to look horrible despite deku’s obvious talent except.. it was actually pretty good?? better even?! “what did i tell ya katsuki? i told you he was legit,” his partner boasted, just earlier he was embarrassed when the part about him eating the curry fish ball with the “let’s get it on” music in the background showed up while the blonde just rolled his eyes. 

explosionmurder: thanks, and i just saw it, consider yourself hired deku: happy to be of service! i’m looking forward to working with you, mr.explosionmurder! it would be helpful again if you provided the cues during your journey! :)  explosionmurder: don’t mention it and also don’t call me that, call me katsuki  deku: okay, mr.katsuki! [all might emoji]

kastuki found it odd that he became really eager during the exchange but thought nothing of it

a couple of months flew by and katsuki with kirishima in tow have already travelled in 4 other different countries, he even received about 500k+ subscribers, he’s almost to 1 million! as per agreement, he gives half of his revenue to deku which was okay with him since he still has a lot of saved up money in the bank including kirishima’s since they’re sharing it anyway, most of the time, his communication with deku have been entirely professional with a few emojis in between (usually deku’s part), until today that is 

deku: it must be nice to travel 0:  explosionmurder: pfft, what are you talking about? you now have over 7 mil+ subscribers in your channel since i met you, you can go traveling whenever or wherever you want  deku: i can’t  explosionmurder: what do you mean you can’t?

no reply

since then, katsuki didn’t want to think too much on what deku said and focused mostly on traveling, those videos won’t work themselves! after he finished, he sent over the videos of his recent trip from india over to deku and as usual, deku delivered it back beautifully edited along with a message 

deku: that’s so cool! you guys went to india? *o* [link to video edit] explosionmurder: yeah, you should’ve seen shitty hair when he tried that really spicy curry, which reminds me, you did what i asked right? deku: of course mr. katsuki! as always, i’ve paid attention to every cue you asked for! [saluting pepe emoji] explosionmurder: good good, i didn’t just hire you to sit on your ass all day  deku: haha you’re not my only contractor you know ^^”  explosionmurder: is that what you meant when you said you couldn’t travel because you’ve been busy? way to be blunt katsuki, he mentally berated himself, but at least deku answered this time, although reluctantly deku: ...let’s just say im stuck at home  in that very moment, is when everything changed between them explosionmurder: alright nerd, you sound depressed as hell so i’m going to give you the decision to decide on where we’re going to travel to next, think of it as a reward for all you’ve done for us  deku: asdkjflas that’s too much! T_T are you sure mr. katsuki??? explosionmurder: i’m waiting, you got 3 seconds starting now, 3  deku: america! i’ve been wanting to go to america...

katsuki told kirishima his plans, then the spiky red head gave him a pat on the back and a thumbs up, “so you do have a sentimental bone in your body!” kirishima was almost close to being dead that very same day 

when they arrived to america, he asked deku the list of things he wanted to see and most of them were, “all might amusement park, all might cafe, all might- is there anything else the nerd likes besides all might and superheroes?” katsuki says while viewing the list in the hotel they’re staying at. “give him a break, you said so yourself that he couldn’t leave his house, so this is the least we can do for him and for all the hard work he put in our videos,” kirishima reasoned with him

on the last day of their trip, katsuki did his routine in piling the videos together and sending them to deku with the attached message, “i actually bought you a souvenir if you want it, looked like the type of shit you would like, you’ll see what it is in the videos i’ve sent you” they’ve known each other long enough so he thought why the hell not, it’s just a matter of getting his PO address, and the response to this was immediate, “AAA I SAW IT! THANK YOU THANK YOU!” <3<3 <(^w^<)

it was an all might limited edition figurine only available in the US 

for the first time, deku took two days longer to finish than katsuki expected him to since they’ve started because he always goes through them pretty quickly, maybe he’s too busy making them look up-to-par? whatever the case was, when katsuki received the video, it already had a title for it, “MY AWESOME TRIP TO AMERICA PLUS ULTRA!” kirishima just laughed and told him to keep it in honor of deku so he left it like that, “this better give me some views,” he grumbled and uploaded it the night before they went to bed, he wasn’t really worried in checking it out either because he has faith in deku’s abilities  

the morning after was hectic, katsuki has been receiving notifications upon notifications on the “travel bros” (courtesy of kirishima) twitter since last night, one in particular caught his eye, “i can’t believe deku and katsuki are dating! who would’ve thought!” what?

a short video appeared underneath that came from the video he uploaded, and regretfully never took a look at, showing katsuki saying to the camera as he held the AM figurine, “deku, you should’ve been here, look at what i got you, nerd,” at first glance, it was supposed to look normal (from the original video!) except hearts and sparkles began appearing around katsuki as he smirks up at the camera, what the fuck? besides, deku was suppose to edit that all out! for every cue in every part where he says deku’s name, he was expected to delete them like he usually does! even though it was no secret that deku was his video editor, he distinctly remembers mentioning about him in a video they took way back when they first started out their contract agreement

meanwhile, kirishima was having a field day, he finally saw their video while katsuki kept on seeing other short videos of him on twitter from different segments of the trip in which he either had sparkles or hearts around him, especially when he mentions deku’s name; “bro you won’t believe this, our subscribers grew up to over 1 million last night!” kirishima yells enthusiastically, but when he noticed katsuki not paying attention to him, he looked over his shoulder to check what he was looking at. “oh that, you know those aren’t fanmade videos, right?” katsuki unblinkingly turned to look at him, “you mean..?” kirishima gave him a toothy grin, “yep!” 

a video call from discord, “dekuuuu, what is the meaning of this?” a squeaky voice, “i-I’m so sorry i got carried away and i couldn’t help it! all might was too beautiful including you and-!” “..what did you just say?”

TBC maybe?

[untaemedqueen]

The Bird Cage

Mafia!Jimin x Reader

Chapter 12.

Warnings: (In This Chapter) Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Death, Defiling of Dead Bodies

 Eventual Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Smoking (Cigarettes)

Tag-List: @imaforeigner​, @q1st1na​, @gensneverland​, @autumnnflowers​, @toddsgirl27​, @yaniposts22​, @babyboytae1​, @dearlydreadful​, @vivpurple7, @kthfeed​

"I was born in Busan. Do you know where that is Y/N?" Jimin taps his fingers on the arm of his chair. You sit up straighter and nod. 

"I was born and bred in Busan. Was born to a family that lived simply. I had a brother, I had a mother and I had a father. We had a dog, named Money. We lived in a two bedroom apartment. We lived by the ocean, I would go swim in the sea and dig my toes into the sand. Simple." Jimin stares into his whisky glass before clearing his throat. 

"I went to school, I was good in school. Did my homework, did extra studying like they say to do to be sure to get into college. But then one day, I came home and my father wasn't there. And he was always home before me, he was a watchmaker. He made fucking watches so he was always home before seven. He was a good person." Jimin's voice begins to get strained and he takes a sip of whisky. You don't dare utter even a sigh, Jimin seems as if he's devolving into some sort of animal. 

"One day, he wasn't home. So I asked my mom, 'Where's Dad?' And she told me he was gone. He left. He had business to take care of in Seoul. And I thought to myself, what kind of business would a watchmaker have in Seoul? Hours away from his own home. A week passed, two weeks passed. He didn't come back. I had assumed he had gone on the class bread run, y'know? Like in the movies, he had just abandoned us. So I stopped going to extra studying after class. Stopped meeting with friends from school, on weekends I would take the train into Seoul to try and find my dad but I could never find him. People at school would make fun of me, always used to tell me my dad wasn't coming home because his watch broke and he was stuck in time. Used to bully my little brother, too. They beat him over the head with rocks and threw him in puddles and fountains because without my dad we were poor and we couldn't even after good clean clothes." Your chest tightens as you see his rage build, his eyes darting back and forth between his whisky glass and the knocked over king piece. 

"I met Jeongguk, he helped my brother out when he was bullied so I liked him. I started to hang out with him, forgetting that my father even existed and if someone brought him up. A fire would ignite inside me, burn through my veins like butane. And I would beat them, beat them until their eyes were swollen and they couldn't see. Beat them till their lips were split open, scalps cracked nice and bloody. It felt good, I would make them eat their words. So me and Jeongguk decided that we would become a brotherhood. People around me started to call me a lion. Because I roared as fierce as one and I would hunt you down and make you bloody." Jimin scoffs before sipping his whisky, his hand shaking as he sets the glass down on the table. 

"But, once I beat up a kid named Kim Youngju. And his dad was a mafia boss. Nobody touched Youngju until I came along and heard him muttering under his breath about my dad. So I beat him till he was in a coma. He was on a feeding tube, couldn't breath on his own, they told me. So his dad, Kim Shin-" You take a deep inhale putting your hand over your mouth, "-told me I was something special. Something like a caged bird, I needed to open the cage door and fly free."

"So I started working for Kim Shin. I brought Jeongguk with me, Shin gave me money and guns and knives and names. And then those names wouldn't exist anymore. They would disappear. I got an apartment, just me and Guk in Daegu. Just the two of us, like a little sinners den we were living out our days drunk and killing people. Murdering them how we saw fit, didn't even need names anymore. You looked at me the wrong way you were gone." Jimin runs his hands through his hair before looking at you.

"Then I get a phone call. From my little brother, my dad came back. After six years the watchmaker came back. My brother, he tells me that dad came back. And, he was rich! And I said to my brother, 'How? How is dad rich? He's a watchmaker.' And my little brother over the phone goes, 'He said a lion brought him some money.'' You close your eyes as you hear Jimin rabble off his story. 

"So my dad was Kim Shin's watch maker. He made him beautiful little watches that could rival a Rolex. And Kim Shin told him that if he was to leave me, he would turn me into an exemplary case of poor to rich. So me and Jeongguk got on a train home to Busan, but not before meeting Taehyung and Yoongi. Two other fucking delinquents that had sob stories like mine, I told them I would protect them. I would make sure they exact their revenge against whoever fucked their brains up. Because that's what I was, fucked up in the brain. So I get on a train, take my sorry ass back to Busan. And I see my father after six years. He was wearing an Italian suit, nice haircut, beautiful leather shoes and I was going to fucking murder him. Hmm? Murder him for leaving me, letting me turn into some mongrel, for money no less."

"But, then I saw my mother. She was wearing a Chanel dress, had a nice haircut too. Pretty Louboutin heels. And, I couldn't kill him. Because he gave my mother pretty things, she was the only woman in the world that I have ever loved. Until my last breath I will love my mother. My dad gave my brother nice clothes, too. Wanted to send him off to a good school. So I told my parents we would move. Go to the countryside, I would stop all this killing, all the blood and murder on my hands. I would wash it away like I was John the Baptist in the river." You take a sip of your whisky, your heart beating in your ears. Jimin stands up quickly.

"Excuse me, I don't do this very often." He says before opening up his bureau drawer and taking out a pack of cigarettes. He pulls out a cigarette before grabbing a lighter out of the same drawer. You couldn't say anything, this story is a big deal for him. He also pulls a file out of his drawer before throwing it on to the chair opposite him as he sits back down. He pulls from the cigarette, his eyebrows furrowing before he continues on with his story. 

"So we moved here, hmm? We moved to this beautiful house. I saved up money when Guk and I were living in our little den so I could buy a maid for my mother. So she didn't have to do anything ever again. I got rid of everything from Busan, bought new stuff. I tried to get rid of the evil in this house but there were two evils. Me and my father." 

"I was out with Jeongguk one day. Seven years ago, we were shopping for a dress for Guk's girlfriend. Her name was Lee. Just Lee. Lee Lee. Isn't that funny?" Jimin snorts before pulling from his cigarette, "We get home, silence. Mirae doesn't meet us at the door, I call out to my parents. Silence." You begin to shiver, wrapping the comforter around your body tighter. The moon began to illuminate on Jimin's face, the moon was going down. The sun would soon rise. 

"So I run upstairs with Guk, he's calling Lee. I'm calling out for my parents. Nothing. And then I get up to the third floor and I see little drops of blood all over the floor." 

"Jesus." You whisper bowing your head. 

"No, Jesus was not with me that day. So I'm panicking calling out for my fucking parents because now something is wrong, right? There's blood on the fucking floor. I get to my parents bedroom. I open the door, and..." Jimin stops his eyes wide as he stares at his bedroom door. 

"And my parents are dead. Just fucking dismembered, all of their body parts laying in their bed. I remember the first thing I did was I threw up. Just fucking vomited all over the goddamn floor. I cried, and then I saw a note on the bedside table. Hmm?" Jimin stands up opening the folder he pulled out before walking over and handing you the laminated note.

You don't get to leave when there is work to be done. This is a reminder that Lions do not out run Cheetahs. - KS

You feel queasy, your stomach rolling and your palms get sweat as you throw the laminated paper down before wiping your hands on the bed sheets. 

"Then Gukkie screams, hysterically. And I know they killed Lee. There was cum all over my parents bodies. They fucking jacked off over my parents fucking limbs. Then I ran to my brother's room. And he’s fucking nailed to the wall like Jesus Christ himself. They cut his eyes out and put them in his mouth." Jimin takes a pause before watching the cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

"Now, I didn't see what they did to Lee, Jeongguk wouldn't let me see but she was pretty so I'm sure it was fucking disgraceful. So I got mad, I got furious. I became a monster. I didn't laugh, or smile. I made deals with men that would shake your little soul to the ground. I fucked women for good standing so they would give me their men to help me. Because Kim Shin was not going to fuck me over. I got my other brothers, my Jin, my Namjoon, my fucking Hoseok. I made Taehyung and Yoongi move in here. Because a lion does not back down from a hunt. I started fucking an older woman named Jaeyun. Not for fun, but for resources, she was a nasty bitch that liked to leave me tied up for 6 hours all for the price of one gun. By the end of that I had hundreds of guns. Because, you can't start business without a fucking sacrifice and if I had to sacrifice my body like my parents did, then so be it. It took me a long time, a long time to build up my business. So, after a while, I made my business and I was going to parley with Kim Shin. You know what parley is, Kitten?" You shake your head at him as he sits back down away from you. 

"It's a business meeting. I sat down, at a business meeting with fucking Kim Shin. Because, he was not going to fucking walk all over me. It took such strength to sit there across the table from that blue eyed fucker. To sit there and parley without shooting that fuck in between the eyes and watching his blood traipse down his skin. Y'know fucking blur his eyes and taste his own iron, it was difficult to not do that. So, we sat down. Talked business, talked whores all that shit." Jimin spits on the floor angrily before inhaling more smoke. 

"With Jeongguk there, with me there we made a pact with Kim Shin, that he would not give loans or promises of money to ANYONE after what he did to our families. He respected my opinion because I built myself up. He knew how vicious I am, he knew I would do anything to get my way so he took the deal. He spit in his hand and I spit in mine and we fucking shook on it. We went our separate ways, I made more money. Brought my business to what it is now, killed many men to make my own way. Then last week, I saw you and I got this." Jimin holds up the folder from the chair. 

"What is it?" You find yourself asking as Jimin stands up. He burns his cigarette out in the vase of roses on his bureau before walking over to you and handing you the file. 

"That's you. Everything about you, where you were born, why you're in Korea, who your parents are, everything." You open up the folder peaking through the pictures of you from when you were little, your school report cards and even your family's finances. 

"You did a background check on me?" The question drifts off into the air as Jimin sips his whisky before nodding. 

"Of course I did, you think I would just let anyone in my house?" You begin to feel small as you find pictures of your first boyfriend, your first vacation as an adult. You throw the folder aside before folding your arms. 

"Yeah, okay. So, you saw my folder and?" Jimin runs his fingers through his hair before putting his head back. 

"In that folder is the contract between Kim Shin and your parents for the loan. A blood contract. But, what did I just say not to long ago, Kitten?" Jimin looks at you widening his eyes. You clear your throat before sipping your whisky. 

"That Kim Shin shook on never giving loans again." Jimin points at you before smiling.

"Bingo, baby. So now, he's going to fucking die. You don't fuck over a lion. Especially when I shake on it." You both go silent for a little while. The both of you staring at each other in the large bedroom. 

"Kim Shin doesn't know what's coming for him. Lions hunt their prey in silence, and then they spring on them and rip their carotid artery out. We're going to do that to him." You hum in agreement before picking up your folder again. 

"So he betrayed me, and he preyed on your family. Now that you're mine, it only makes the pay back more enjoyable. I tried so hard to make my pain from my family go away but it still eats at my brain. I've pushed it back countless times in order for business to carry on. But, not anymore. Now, Kim Shin is getting war." Jimin looks off into the distance, his eyes glazing over as he sighs. You look through your folder once more before scoffing. 

"Really? My clothes sizes? My fucking ob/gyn check up?" You hold up the papers, Jimin doesn't answer you as he finishes his whisky. 

"You heard my story, will you come with me to the ball or not?" The sun begins to rise, a dark night's sky beginning to turn salmon and orange. You shake the papers.

"My ob/gyn fucking check ups Jimin!" He leans forward in his chair. 

"I wanted to know if you were fertile. You might just carry my fucking legacy one day, alright? I fucking care about you. So yes, I got your fucking doctors records." You roll your eyes before putting the papers back in the folder and standing up. Jimin watches how your night gown ripples down to the floor. Your bare feet padding towards him quietly as you hand him back the folder. 

"Why would you think I wouldn't go with you if you told me your story?" You sit down across from him as he places the folder in his lap. 

"Because I'm a monster, Y/N. And you haven't even seen it yet. I can tell you I murder people and I run guns but you haven't SEEN it yet. That changes a person, seeing someone drop. When you kill someone, you open up a door in your mind and all the demons come in." You hum at his poetic speech.

"I stabbed a man not to long ago, and I told you how good it felt." 

"But, then you stayed awake all night thinking about it, you couldn't sleep. And, when you did you talked in your sleep. Begging for forgiveness." You begin to blush, you weren't aware that you spoke while sleeping. You sit up straighter before putting your hand on Jimin's knee. His eyes looking straight at you as he cracks his neck. 

"I said I'm not going anywhere, and I meant it. I keep promises." Jimin closes his eyes before grabbing your hand. 

"I hope that's true, baby. Because, when you see me turn into a lion, you'll be very disappointed you chose me." Jimin stands up as you click your teeth with an eye roll. He picks you up bridal style before walking over to the bed and laying you down. He props himself in between your legs before bending down and kissing you. His hand caressing your cheek as he puts his forehead to yours. "Will you come with me tomorrow?" 

"Yes."